Inside my mind; Under my skin sequel

Chapter 9 - Twisted thoughts

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Chapter 9

*Ivy's POV*

Harry lay beside me, motionless. The only noise I could hear were his gentle breaths as he slept, and they were deafening.

Harry had just raped me.

I don't know how it had happened; I had tried to protest, I even tried to kick him off me, but then something took over my body. Some sort of fear, and I was paralysed. I couldn't make a sound, I couldn't move. I had trusted Harry, had forgiven him...

The tears wouldn't stop coming, but I didn't know what to do. Should I tell someone, should I leave...

I felt empty, violated, and vulnerable – there was a huge pain in my chest that wouldn't subside. I felt like I was minutes away from a heart attack, but I was just in shock. I couldn't bear to think about what might happen if I woke Harry up. Moving at an incredibly glacial pace, I slid off the bed, and silently took some clothes out of my wardrobe. Thanking the Lord Almighty that Harry had not stirred, I quickly dressed and left the room, taking care not to let the door squeak.

I walked to the bathroom next to the kitchen and rinsed my face. I wished I could shower the filth of me, but I couldn't risk anyone hearing me. What can I do?

I stared at my face in the mirror for what seemed like an eternity. The face that stared back was unrecognizable. The girl looking at me looked incredibly sick, and pale. I don't know understand how Harry was the first one to find out I used to cut, and now he's also the first to find out I'm trying to lose a little... extra weight.

And both times he's taken advantage of that knowledge.

My mind racing, I sank to the floor, and sat back against the closed bathroom door. I should tell Niall. He would know what to do, how to protect me from the monster that Harry has become.

But I can't tell him. I can't trust him anymore, now that he's lying blatantly to me. And besides, even if I did tell someone, than what? The band would fall apart, with Harry's secret nature exposed. The fans would send even more hate to me...

No, I have to keep this to myself. But I can't stay here, right now.

Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, I headed to the front door and put my runners on. All I wanted to do was feel the cold air on my face, and maybe then I would have the energy to form some sort of idea what I should do.

Sprinting as fast as I could away from the house, I headed to my favourite park, about 10 minutes away. Panting, I stopped to catch my breath and drink some water, and walked the rest of the way. As I slowed my pace, memories of Harry on top of me, against me, sprang back to my mind. The tears started again, and I let myself cry. It didn't help. I felt ugly and used, like a dirty rag.

What if I told Louis?

But no, that wouldn't work. Just like if I told Niall, the band would not be able to stay together once Harry was exposed.

Another realisation hit me like a bomb – I was still dating Niall. I hadn't said anything to him about ending the relationship, or expressed any of my feelings about him lying to me.

Maybe Harry had a point. Maybe I am a slut. A slut who has just had sex with someone who isn't her boyfriend. Okay, I told Harry no, but I was wearing racy underwear, what else was he supposed to think.

The more I thought about it, my twisted logic started to make sense. I had led Harry on, and I deserved what I got. Now I just have to fix the situation by telling Niall it was over between us. Then I wouldn't be a slut anymore, and I could explain to Harry that he shouldn't have done it, and that it can't happen again.

My tears started to stop, and I felt the pain in my chest lift. Something twisted in my stomach, but I ignored it and decided that the course of action I had thought of would be what I would do. That way I've made things right with everyone, because if I really think about it, this is all my fault. I should have broken things off with Niall earlier, and that way Harry wouldn't have called me a slut, and then he wouldn't have raped me when he came to apologise for calling me a slut.

Jogging back, I was determined to fix things by the morning.