3 years ago
It's 3 o'clock in the morning when I hear the sound of rushing footsteps in hall, shortly followed by the bathroom door shutting. That's doesn't sound good. I come out of my room and navigate my way through the dark hallway. Then, I stop in front of the bathroom door. The sound of the fan doesn't disguise the sound of vomiting.
"Camila?" I whisper against the door.
Thankfully, the door is open. Camila is kneeling before the toilet empty her stomach into the bowl. I lock the door behind me. I kneel down on the floor next her and gently sweep her hair out of her face as I softly caress her back.After a few minutes of dry heaving, Camila reached up and flushes the toilet. The then leans back into my arms, her head against my chest and her body slightly shaking.
I've never seen her this sick. She's been staying at home vomiting for the past three days. Her face looks drained and she's extremely pale. It can't be a stomach virus.
An unsettling feeling sits in the bit of my stomach once I think back to the last time we had sex. I came inside her in the heat of the moment like some kind of fucking idiot.
"How are you feeling?" I whisper into her ear while stroking her hair.
"Dead," she groans.
I crack a smile but it quickly disappears. We sit in silence for a few minutes. I can tell by the way she looks at me that she knows what I'm thinking.
"I should've have-"
"Shawn, I'm not pregnant. Stop saying that."
She knows me more than I know myself. I release a long, drawn out sigh as she sits up to look at me with those dark circles shaping her eyes.
"How did you know? Camila, I was being irresponsible the other night and I shouldn't have did what I did. We have to make sure-"
"I've been on my period for the past week. Is that enough proof?"
I blink in surprise.
"Oh."
She giggles to herself and lies against my chest again. I feel a sense of relief wash over me. She isn't pregnant. It must've
been Sinuhe's awful cooking. It has that effect on people.
Present
From the top of the stairs, I can see the flashing blue and red lights outside the house. I haven't stopped shaking. My shirt is still covered in blood. I can't think straight. I can't fucking think straight.
The ambulance already took Steve away and the police are still here taking statements from everyone. They asked me what happened first, which I expected because I probably look like the aggressor in this situation. I told them what I can remember to the best of my ability. There were a few holes in my story considering I did black out. They're all downstairs talking to the detective. I can hear the conversation from up here.
"Did he force you?" The detectives monotone voice echoes from the living room. "Of course he did! Why would you even assume that this was consensual?" Mr. Parker shouts before Ivy can even answer. I could only image the amount of rage that man has. It's nothing compared to mine.
"He did," Ivy speaks up, her voice cracking. A tear escapes at the thought of her being forced to do anything. Its sick.
"Is this the first time he's done this? If not, how long has this been going on?" He calmly asks.
A few minutes goes by. No one says anything. The silence says it all.
That's when I hear her father break down. I've never heard a grown man sob like this. My heart breaks for him.
