Faint Memories

 

Oh how much she regretted that night. She was so drunk out of her mind to even think let alone tell him she didn’t want to. I guess he took her lack of rejection, or rather lack of ability to reject, as consent. She regretted every minute of it. The thought of his touch still made her feel sick to her stomach. She ran to the bathroom to vomit, with it trying to let go of all the faint memories of that night, failing miserably.

To this day she still wonders whether it was solely the amount of alcohol in her system which got her to that moment, or if there was help from something else. She could never remember a time before when she got as drunk as that night. She was usually very careful about the amount she drank. She wondered if that night was the same or simply the act of another substance intoxicating her body.

Her memories of the night were weak, not that she wanted to retain anything about it. All she could remember was the moment before, his warm breath stinking of alcohol, her limp body willing to do something to stop it. Her first memory after the fact was waking up the next morning to a tear stained pillow and a face black from running makeup, eyes dry and bloodshot.

She wondered if it could be considered as rape. Maybe, as she couldn’t physically consent or reject the action. But no matter how she knew she should, she couldn’t get the nerve to report it to the police. A part of her blamed herself for the actions of that night. As if none of it would have happened if she was just more careful.

Now she was starting to feel queasy again. Ever since the rape she felt nauseous, as if the man, or should she call him boy, as he was clearly a coward, had taken a part of her with him. She felt unbalanced, like at any time she could just let go and fall.

She sat on the toilet seat in her cramped little apartment. The cramped bathroom barely fit a mouldy shower and toilet. It was small even for one person. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. As if something was grabbing her lungs and squeezing that last bit of life out of them.

 Taking the test out of its package, she prayed to God, any God that would listen, that this little test would come back negative. It had to come back negative. It just had to. She didn’t know what she would do if it didn’t

She finished the test and closed her eyes for a few seconds. This test could change her life. Not that she would be having the baby, she didn’t want any part of that boy growing inside her. The thought repulsed her. As much as she knew it would be unfair to the baby, she would not be able to live with herself.

But now she was getting ahead of herself. Of course she wasn’t pregnant. If there was any justice in the world she just couldn’t be pregnant. She laughed a nervous laugh to herself. This was silly. She should just get it over with.

She slowly opened her eyes and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t shake the sight of that plus sign laughing back at her.

Author's Note

Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Reviews

[lauren emily]

I couldn't help it. When I finished reading this, I just had to yell "Oh no!". I could totally feel everything the girl was going through and how...awful everything was.
Very nice piece. Very vivid.
Keep up the great work,

~Lauren

[~eVelyN fAiTh~]

This really took me aback. I had to read it a few times to make sure the first thought that came to my head was right. But everytime I read it I got the same answer: WOW! That's just how good it is. You were very precise and direct. I really felt like I was the girl