Will You Still Love Me After This Mistake?

Sam Brooks

Chapter 12

***WARNING⚠***

READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINSCUTTING, SELF HARM, DRUG INTAKE AND RAPE. PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ ABOUT THIS.

***WARNING⚠***

Justin Carter

"Hey Pattie!" I yell to Pattie who is on the other side of the hallway. Some kids look up from their books or from their lockers. I shoot them a grin and heads towards Patricia.

"Justin! Hey!" She pulls me into an embrace. "What's up?"

I pull put my phone and show her the screen.

Patricia's face drops instantly. "How many people have seen that?" she whispers, looking around her.

I look down to my phone. "1219 likes and 2989 comments," I pause. "Wait, no. Now it's 2990 comments"

"Oh no." Patricia curses under her breath.

"So I can't believe Sammie's pregnant? Like what a slut," I laugh, but stop myself. I had forgotten that Sammie and Pattie are best friends.

"She is not a slut! Enrique forced her into having sex with him! Sammie is not a slut!" she shrieks. Everybody lifts their heads again and observes us. All of a sudden, everyone bursts into conversation about Sammie and her belly.

"Look I'm sorry.. I didn't-" I start.

"Mean it? Yeah, I think you did." She slams her locker shut and storms away. I watch her go, every instinct in my body telling me to run after her. I shake my head.

I have to let her breath and think it over.

. . .

Sam Brooks

I walk down the hallway towards my locker. Every pair of eyes locked onto my back as I walk by. As soon as I pass, I hear rushed whispers. I bet everybody in the whole school saw that post. Yesterday, after Pattie showed me, there were a few comments. Those comments made me realize what people thought of me.

"It was only a matter of time!"

"What a slut!"

"Can you have sex when you're pregnant? Sam, text me!"

"Pay her a dollar, she'd be happy to have sex with you!!"

I close my eyes and breath in sharply.

"Sam! You are the school's biggest slut right now. So can I have your number?" A hand yanks me backwards. I curse silently but turn around anyway.

"No," I say as evenly as possible.

"Come on, Baby! You know you want mine!" His hand reaches down to my waist.

I push his hand off roughly. "I don't even know you. Why would I want your number?"

He reaches to grab my waist, but aims a bit lower. "I'm Corey. Nice to meet you. Now we know each other. Give me your number."

A guy behind him smiles. "Yeah, I would like your number as well!" He steps forward and grabs my boob.

"Hey!!" I protest and try to back up, but there is another guy behind me. He grabs my butt.

"Stop!" I shriek, but only get more guy's attention. More guys step forward and start touching all over my body.

"Please stop," I whimper, tears threatening to spill at any second.

My mouth is covered by some guy's soggy lips. He pushes his wet tongue down my throat and grabs my boob from under my shirt. Some guys realize and start going under my clothes as well. I try to scream for help, but the guy who is shoving his tongue in my mouth stops me. People walk by and pretend to not even notice. They're probably scared to be pulled into this and be touched too. I don't blame them but I wish they could pretend to care and get help.

. . .

Patricia Kelly

"What!?" I yell after what Sammie just told me. She had been crying in the washroom after lunch. I had walked in and heard some sniffling, then I figured out it was Sammie. "Why didn't you try to stop them? How did no one realize?"

"The guys pulled me into the janitor's closet, that's why. Every one pretended not to notice. The guys, after having me in the janitor's closet, began to rip my clothes off and continued to touch me everywhere. Then one of the guys started to suck on my boobs. The others thought it was a good idea and began to lick me. One of them even began licking my vagina. Some of them then started to take their pants off. Then one by one, they took turns, began to shove their dick into my vagina. It felt good, yes, but it's rape! I tried to scream as loud as I can, but then one of them shoved their dick down my throat so I just stopped screaming and stopped squirming and let them do whatever they wanted, because this wasn't going to end until all of them had their fun. And I was right, because an hour later, they started to leave."

My eyes widen as she finishes. "How could you let them rape you?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Her phone vibrates, which had been vibrating since she started telling me her rape story. She sighs and takes a look. Her eyes show pain for a second, before she bursts into tears. I rip the phone from her grasp and look what's on her screen.

"Hey that was fun. Let's do it again some other time? ;)"

"This is a text from one of them that did it? We have to tell the principle!"

Sammie instantly rips the phone from my grasp and shakes her head violently. "No. We're going to pretend this didn't happen. Got it?"

I didn't like the idea, but I nod anyway.

For the next few days, Sammie continues to get raped, but she insists on not telling anyone. She doesn't want me near her anymore, in fear of me getting raped at the same time as her. I want to tell Enrique or Justin, but I don't want to lose Sammie's precious friendship. So I just keep my mouth shut and continue to go to the washroom after lunch, where she always is after she's raped. One day, after more than a week, I start to find blood on her wrists and her thighs. I ask her what it is but she dismisses it and continues to talk how girls have been pushing her into lockers and give her dirty looks and talk behind her back. After a few more days, the cuts and scars on her wrists and thighs are more visible and more deep. I ask her if she's cutting but she immediately denies it, so I believe her. One day, I don't find her in the washroom. I look everywhere, then I see her. She's outside with the smokers and drug dealers of our school. They hand her a cigarette, which she accepts immediately. The others smile proudly like a mother stares as her child walks for the first time. Sammie takes a puff and passes to the person beside her. She starts to cough and the people around her clap. Some clap her on the back. She smiles and looks more relaxed, than her wide eyed, sleepless, scared and depressed look she had had plastered on her face for a few days. She begins to skip school more often to hang out with her druggies, and the guys rapping her begin to rape her more often and she let's them. Some of them even join the druggies. Sammie's thighs and wrists are constantly red and bleeding. She barely comes to my place to sleep anymore. When I ask her where she's been, she shrugs her shoulders and leaves out the window. I scream after her, but she takes out a cigarette and lighter from her pocket. She sticks it between her teeth, which are a bit yellow and instantly smile. She grabs a knife from her other pocket and brings it up to her wrist. I scream for her to stop, but she slices her skin and the blood immediately oozes out. She does this a dozen more times, before she smiles and moves on to her other wrist. At this point, I'm crying and yelling as loud as possible. My parents burst into my room, and Sammie snaps out of her trance and runs away as fast as she can. A week later, she comes to my place, with a cigarette in her mouth. She says she doesn't need a place to sleep anymore, then she thanks me. I point out how she never sleeps here anymore anyway, but she shrugs and walks away. I stare at her arms as she leaves, the deep fresh and old cuts are very visible on her pale skin. She tuns around and mouths something. Something I can't make out. The next day, a police officer arrives at our door, asking for me. Confused, I ask him what's wrong. His response is simple:

"Sam Brooks' dead body was found near her parent's house."