Devoted To You || Gilbert Blythe

XXI

~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Sexual Assault. A noun. nonconsensual touching of one person for the sexual gratification of another, including rape, fondling, molestation, or other unwanted contact with the genitals, anus, buttocks, groin, or breasts of either party.
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I awaken on the cold ground, the rustling leaves and gentle wind signaling the open space of the outdoors. The throbbing pain in my head persists, and as I slowly sit up, I take in my surroundings. The moonlight bathes the familiar trees and foliage in an ethereal glow.

I look down at my dress. I can't help but feel nasty, knowing what he did to me. I'm no longer in the clutches of Nate. A wave of relief washes over me, tempered by the aching pain in my head. I survey the area, reassured by the absence of his menacing presence.

Slowly, I manage to stand, steadying myself against a nearby tree. The forest, once a source of solace, now harbors the haunting memories of the night. I take a tentative step forward, my senses alert to any movement or sound. The rustling leaves underfoot amplify the eerie silence that envelops the woods.

In the distance, I glimpse the faint glow of lights from the house. The prospect of safety propels me forward, each step a testament to the resilience forged in the face of danger. The night air is cool, and I wrap my arms around myself, seeking warmth and comfort.

As I emerge from the shadowy forest into the clearing, the moon illuminates the path ahead. The house stands as a beacon, and I quicken my pace, the fear gradually giving way to a growing determination.

I make it inside and all I can do is cry.

How is it that a man I barely know managed to charm, deceive, and strip me of everything in the span of two days.

In the midst of the tears, a desperate need for familiarity pulls me toward Gilbert's room. I haven't ventured in there much since my arrival, but tonight, in the aftermath of the ordeal, I yearn to see something familiar, something untouched.

I push open the door to Gilbert's room, and the subtle scent of familiarity envelopes me. The room is a haven of comfort, a refuge from the chaos outside. The soft glow from the candle in my hand casts a warm hue, and my eyes linger on the details that make this space uniquely his.

In the dim light of Gilbert's room, I find myself drawn to the familiarity of his bed. The softness of the sheets, still lingering with the scent of him, envelops me as I crawl beneath the covers. The room becomes a sanctuary, and the bittersweet aroma intensifies the stark contrast between the safety within and the turmoil outside.

I bury my face in the pillow, inhaling deeply, as tears blur my vision. The sheets cradle me, carrying traces of laughter and shared moments that now feel like distant echoes. The scent evokes a flood of emotions, and the realization that he's not here intensifies the ache in my heart.

The waves of grief wash over me, and the solitude of the room amplifies the loneliness. I long for his reassuring presence, the warmth of his embrace that once made everything feel okay. The sheets become a tangible link to the person I miss, a poignant reminder of the comfort that seems so out of reach in the wake of the night's ordeal.

As I lay there, enveloped in the bittersweet scent of his bed, the tears flow freely. The room becomes a cocoon of both solace and longing, and in that moment, I allow myself to grieve not just for the recent trauma but for the absence of the person who had made Avonlea feel like home.

National Sexual Assault Hotline
1-800-656-4673

I know this is a very heavy topic. But trust me I wouldn't be writing about it if I hadn't experienced it first hand. If you are facing something similar
YOU ARE NOT ALONE!