"I miss your bright smile, your warm hugs, your soft kisses..."
– Nautica
❀❀❀
~ D O R O T H Y ~
November 1997
I try to dash out of the boys' locker room but, out of nowhere, Monica and her two friends appear and stand at the doorway, blocking my way. With a mischievous glint in her fake green-coloured eyes, Monica crosses her arms, smirking wickedly.
"Well, well, well," she sneers.
"Get out of my way," I order, feeling my heart pound against my chest.
She doesn't comply, continuing to smirk at me. I try to move past her but she grabs onto my shoulders, catching me off-guard, and pushes me. Colliding against the floor, I feel pain shoot through me. I lift my head and notice a small patch of blood on the floor. Running my fingertips across various areas of my face, I find the source of the blood; the right side of my forehead.
Not again...
No one helps me. Everyone is just watching, as if it were a theatrical show.
"Why are you trying to run away?" Monica says. "Go on, show everyone what a huge whore you are."
I try to sit up, and when I do, I notice how translucent the shower curtain is. Pressed against my wet skin, the curtain is revealing my skin colour and body shape.
"What is your problem?" I snap at her. "This is abuse!"
"Oh no, this is abuse. Blah blah. Oh, just shut up!" she mocks, spitting.
Ignoring the soreness and the pain, I stand up while gripping onto the curtain that is wrapped around me to make sure it doesn't fall.
"Move," I say through gritted teeth, glaring.
She seems unaffected.
"No. It won't be fun if I do," she sighs.
Just as I am about to push her away and wreak havoc, someone grabs onto my arms, restraining me. I look behind me and see Reece. Unlike most of the guys in the locker room, Reece is wearing black shorts and a dark blue hoodie. His hair is wet, having a darker colour.
"Let me go," I growl at him, trying to shake my arms away from his grasp but it is to no avail.
His face slowly leans closer to my ear.
"You think I have feelings for you, right?" he whispers so low that only I can hear it. "I'll prove you wrong."
Prove me wrong? Oh no... This is not good. What is he planning to do? My heart drops. I try to escape from his grasp, desperate.
"Reecey! I've got her clothes," Monica informs, oblivious to what Reece and I have just exchanged.
She displays my uniform along with my underwear and bra in front of everyone. One of her friends gives her a pair of scissors. She takes it happily. My eyes widen and I snap my head to look at Reece pleadingly.
"Don't let her do anything. Please, Reece," I say. "Y-You promised me you'd never let anyone hurt me. For our childhood's sake. Please help me."
He shoves me away, showing no compassion. My back hits the wall. With stinging eyes, I watch helplessly as Monica starts to snip my clothes into shreds.
"Wooooooah," the crowd hoots, clearly entertained.
"N-No! P-Please don't!" I beg as every ounce of my dignity chips away.
Except for my sports clothes and uniform, which are being shredded right in front of me, I have no other clothes here. I try to go near her and snatch the remaining clothes from her, but her two friends grab onto my arms firmly, restraining me to the wall. Their long nails dig into my arms, causing sharp pains to shoot through me. I watch the whole ordeal of my poor clothes. I want to push her friends away, but the shower curtain is loosening around me.
"Please stop this! This is cruel!" I yell at everyone. "PLEASE! I DID NOTHING WRONG!"
No one does anything.
"Now, how about that shower curtain," Monica suggests after she cuts my blouse – the last piece of my intact clothing – into shreds. "It's time to reveal to everyone what an ugly slut you actually are."
"Oh I've seen it," Reece says to the entertained crowd.
I look at him in disbelief. He has a smirk plastered across his face. It frightens me how wicked he looks right now.
Why?
Just why?
"I've seen everything," he continues. "You know why? Because Dorothy Sherman tried to seduce me."
My eyes widen. He's referring to the night he came to my house for dinner with his mother, Linda.
How could he even...?
"Woah. She really is a slut," says one of the guys in the 'audience', disgusting me.
"But she's hot," another guy says, standing next to him. "Do you think she can come over to my place and give me a good night?"
"Nah, I call dibs first, Jared," his friend replies.
My lips part in absolute shock at his crude words.
"N-No! He's twisting everything!" I yell. "It was an acciden–"
In a flash, my right cheek start to sting and my vision becomes blurry. Monica just slapped me. I'm sure her sharp, fake nails left a cut across my cheek.
Helpless, I purse my lips and cry.
This cannot be happening.
Please let this be a nightmare, God.
Please let me wake up.
Then, Monica walks slowly to me, as if I were her prey. With a triumphant glint in her eyes, she stands right in front of me.
"There. You're now labelled as the school's whore. Don't think that this is the end. This is only the beginning," she whispers.
She eyes me from head to toe before she scoffs.
"Good luck going home, bitch."
She then snaps her fingers, and her friends let me go. One of her friends goes to pick up my shredded clothes from the floor and drops them in front of me.
"Everyone, a stripper with her strips of clothes," Monica announces, gesturing to me and the pile.
The crowd laughs.
Reece laughs.
How is any of this amusing to them?
What wrong did ever I do? Was it because I lied that one time in my whole life? I thought I was already punished enough for that by being abandoned at St Anne's and abused by a demonic nun.
Well, clearly this situation shows that I've not been punished enough.
How am I going to survive this?
When Reece's eyes meet mine, his laughter dies down.
"Let's go girls," Monica says.
She then looks at Reece, who is starting to look a little lost, and entwines her arm with his.
"Huh?" he says, blinking.
"Babe, come on."
She pecks him on the cheek. He nods his head. Then, the three girls sashay out of the locker room. Reece glances at me one last time before he follows them. I drop down onto my knees and look at the pile of shredded clothes. I look through them, trying to find anything that can potentially cover me. My hands are shaking and my lower lip is trembling.
"Hey," Jared says.
I refuse to look up. I know three guys with towels wrapped around their waists are standing to my right.
"We can fuck at my place. I'll give you my address. Wear something white," Jared continues.
I immediately feel sick.
Like really, really sick.
Please let this be a dream.
Please.
Gosh, it feels impossible to breathe right now.
"Move!" I hear someone yell.
All heads turn to the source of the deep voice, mine included.
Damien pushes past a couple of guys and looks around to see what the commotion is about. His crystal eyes land on me. A flicker of shock crosses his features before he clenches his jaw. In his eyes, he sees a drenched, underdressed girl with blood oozing out of her forehead and, perhaps, her cheek, surrounded by guys, of which three of them are half-naked and trying to have a go at her.
"What the fuck?" he yells furiously, dashing towards me.
Everyone freezes including those three tall guys, looking at Damien, silent. Damien quickly takes off his hoodie and, using his own hands, he puts it on me. He stares into my eyes, trying to search for anything that did not scream broken. Then, he straightens up and glares at everyone.
"If you lot don't scram this instant, I swear I will make sure that none of you can play football ever again for the rest of your miserable, fucking lives," he growls.
The crowd suddenly disperses, frightened. Damien then bends down and tries to cup my face, but as he does so, I wince when his finger tips touch my stinging cheek. He retracts his hands from my face.
"Who did this to you?" he whispers.
I look into his eyes blankly, my vision still blurry.
"Tell me, Dorothy. Who did this to you? I promise I will make that person pay hell. Just tell me."
When I do not reply, he scoops me up and takes me to the girls' changing room. The smell of shoe polish hits my nostrils when we enter the room. He carefully places me on a bench, and informs me that he will return quickly with clothes that I can wear. I look at the lockers ahead of me and feel another pang of hurt shoot through me. Spray painted across my locker door is a horrid word that everyone will now label me as.
WHORE.
When Damien comes back, he places the pile of clothes next to me on the bench.
"I'll be outside. Don't worry, I won't let anyone come near you," he says.
I do not reply, and he hesitantly leaves the girls' changing room, worried about how I'll react. I slowly stand up, pick up the clothes and go to the toilets. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I was right. My forehead and cheek are bleeding. My eyes are bloodshot, my lips dry, my whole face pink.
A minute passes.
And another.
And another...
And then I burst out crying.
I have never felt so humiliated in my life. What kind of 'classy' institution is Hampton? Instead of doing anything to help me, everyone simply stood still and observed.
I feel degraded, insulted and torn.
And Reece.
How could he do this to me?
I cover my face with my shaking hands, ignoring the sting, and sob hysterically.
Dear God, what did I ever do to deserve this?
Whatever wrong I did, please forgive me. Please help me escape this nightmare.
I pull off the shower curtain, still wearing Damien's hoodie, and put on trousers. I then run out of the locker room, but stop briefly to see Damien pushing Jared against the wall harshly.
"Spit it out," Damien growls, intimidating him. "What the hell happened? Who did it?"
"It was a g-group. M-Mainly Reece and Monica. P-Please don't hurt me," Jared says, pale.
Damien then shoves him onto the floor, and I run along the deserted corridor until I reach my main locker. The door of the locker, too, is spray painted in black.
BITCH.
Unlocking it quickly, I take out my black backpack. Slamming the door shut, I proceed to dash across the corridor to leave the horrid building. When I push open the doors, cold wind hits me, causing me to shiver. The sky is grey and there are a handful of students here and there.
Reece and Monica are standing next to a white car. After Monica goes on her tiptoes to kiss her boyfriend, she enters her car. Reece closes the door, and with one final kiss, the window on Monica's side goes up, separating the two. Then, the car is driven away by her driver.
Feeling the fury build up within me, I stomp towards Reece. He doesn't notice me approaching him until I am a few steps away from him, just when he turns around. Dropping my black backpack on the ground, I lift my hand to slap him so hard that his neck breaks, but before my hand can collide with his face, he grabs onto my wrist swiftly and firmly. He then twists my wrist, causing me to wince.
"I told you I will make you regret slapping me," he says.
He then lets go of my throbbing wrist and pushes me away, but I do not fall down.
"How dare you!" I scream at him loudly, startling him a bit.
He then quickly maintains his composure. I try to lunge at him, but he grabs onto my arms.
"I HATE YOU! In fact, hate is such a small word. I wish you die painfully and rot in the pits of hell!"
"Wow, I'm hurt," he scoffs.
"Idiot! Jerk! Spawn of Satan! You ruined me! I can't believe that you let this happen to me! But then again, I should not have relied on you. You failed me once. Why should I expect you to save me again, huh? You promised to protect me when we were eight. You promised me!"
His grip on my arms tightens and his brown eyes seem to grow darker.
"I told you that I regret befriending you. The Dorothy Sherman I knew is dead to me."
"I hate to break it to you, but I'm not dead! I'm alive!"
"You left me," he says through gritted teeth.
"I DID NOT CHOOSE TO LEAVE YOU!" I scream, exasperated.
"You could've come back! You promised me you would come back!"
"I couldn't come back!"
"Why, huh?" he says, angry. "Is it because you would miss out on the fun and joy at that fucking boarding school?"
I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.
Is he serious? Is he actually freakin' serious?
"What fun? What joy? Why are you assuming everything?!"
"Your step-father told me everything!" he yells. "He told me how you begged him to not bring you back because you found new friends and wanted to spend as much time with them as you can. He told me how you enjoyed spending every vacation at the boarding school at the fucking countryside."
My eyes widen.
Is that the reason why Reece has been so cruel to me?
Is that literally the reason why I am in this horrible situation?
Oh, how I wish that he burns in the pits of hell.
"He lied to you! My step-father left me at the boarding school! He was the one who didn't let my mother bring me back home!"
"I don't want to hear excuses," he snaps, glaring at me. "You told me yourself that you were not happy to be back. So you broke our promise! YOU BROKE ME!"
"THAT'S IT!"
I turn around so that my back faces him, and pull off the hoodie. Aware that we're outside, in public eye, I don't care who watches me. I have had enough of everything.
I am hurt, angry, tired, sore and in pain.
"What are you doing? Are you seriously taking your clothes off in front of m–"
He immediately becomes silent when he finally sees my bare back. I have not pulled the hoodie off from my arms as I am using it to cover my bare chest.
My breaths become ragged when I realise that he is looking at the scars that I've tried to hide for years. The very scars that I am afraid to see and touch and that have haunted me for seven years.
"I..." I croak. "I waited for yo–"
A few raindrops hit my skin and the sky becomes darker. When I feel gentle traces of his fingertips on my lower back, I shudder and immediately turn around to slap his hand away. As I do so, I notice that my hand is shaking and my breaths are even more ragged.
Why... Why am I like this?
"Don't you dare touch me!" I growl at him, putting the hoodie back on properly.
I then examine his face. Instead of anger and accusation, his expression holds a mixture of confusion and shock. His seemingly softer eyes look into mine.
"Dorothy," he whispers, stepping closer to me, but I step away from him.
"Don't come near me."
He doesn't listen and extends his hands out to touch me as if he were desperate but I slap them away from me.
"Don't touch me!"
"What did this to you?"
"The real question is; who did this to me. If you had kept to your promise, this would never happened to me," I reveal, making his eyes widen. "You think I had a fabulous time at the countryside, right? You are so, so wrong."
He tries to close the distance between us but I step away from him.
"Dorothy, I... I..."
"I hate you. I hate you so much."
With that, I turn around, pick up my backpack and storm away from him while trying to appease my shaking hands. The rain is getting heavier and I can feel the cold wetness seep through Damien's clothes.
"Dorothy! Wait!" he yells, running after me.
"Go to hell!"
He catches up to me and stands in front of me. He grabs onto my shoulders, trying to stop me. Strands of his wet hair fall over his hooded eyes.
"Please, Dorothy. L-Let's talk. I-I didn't m-me–"
Oh, so now he wants to talk. Like hell I would. So, I ignore him, pushing him away from me.
"Dorothy. Please. I-I–"
The rain begins to pour so much that it becomes difficult to see anything beyond two feet.
"Dorothy, I-I didn't know. Please, d-don't leav–"
"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" I scream.
I shove him away with every ounce of strength I have left and run as fast as I can, away from Hampton, away from Reece Walker.
"Dorothy! Come back! I beg you, Dorothy. Please come back!" he says over and over and over again.
I guess he can't see me anymore due to the rain. When his cries dissolve away, I collapse onto the muddy ground and allow a loud sob to escape from my lips once again. In a strange way, the rain is pouring at the right time.
No one will see the tears.
No one will hear the cries.
No one will notice how utterly vulnerable and broken I am.
*~*~*~*~*
I feel the love, everyone. Thank you.