Chapter 7: Grace
“You know there’s a reason why I don’t let anyone touch me”, I tell Maverick, releasing my hand from his before walking away, leaving him in the bathroom that he wasn’t supposed to be in. Even when someone lightly touches my hand, a very small but brief flashback comes back. When Maverick reached out for my hand, a small memory of him touching my body came back.
Why Logan?
Stepping out of the bathroom, and after taking a long deep breath, I kept myself against the wall adjacent to the bathroom entrance, hoping that the flashback would disappear. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t going away.
Why Logan, why?
Even as I stare at the trophies that are kept in the glass wall in front of me, with the nearest entrance to the gym on my left, with a back exit to a parking lot directly from my left, it even comes back. I’ve tried not to think about it, but the flashbacks can’t be controlled. I try to think about other events like the games that we host in our high school gym, but at the end of it, the flashback is still there. On a good day it goes away, but they always come back unless we heal over them.
Some days I just don’t understand…
…
Eventually walking away, I see Rachel in the distance, slowly walking towards me. She’s wearing a long white ruffled dress that stops at the knee, but has short ruffles at the shoulders and at the bottom of the dress. “Grace?” Rachel asks me as she pulls her blonde to dirty blonde hair behind her ears, featuring her silver earrings that she got from Lydia. “What is it?” I ask Rachel, staring down at my Tiffany blue shoes, only to have her raise my chin with her left pointer finger, eventually lowering it away from me. “I ran into Logan. I’m sorry about what happened,” Rachel tells me. I’ve known Rachel for a long time now. In fact, I’ve known Guinevere for the same amount of time as I know Rachel and Lydia. Lydia however, is technically a year older than us, but she’s taking a four-year plan, so she’s still stuck with us until the end of the school year. “It happened two years ago,” I eventually tell Rachel after getting the courage to finally say something about the incident, before Rachel walks away and towards Lydia, who was waiting for her outside the office but near the entrance to our gym. Lydia had her long brown wavy hair pulled behind her ears, and was wearing a short purple dress that had lace at the top and a silver belt that went around the waist. Apparently the color purple works well for her. Walking towards them, I overhear Lydia and Rachel talking. “I heard that Clyde was looking for you earlier,” I hear Rachel tell Lydia as if it was a secret that no one else would know. “Oh please,” Lydia had told Rachel in a rather scoff-like voice, brushing it off as if it wasn’t true. But it was. The entire school knew that Clyde had a crush on Lydia, yet she didn’t know it herself. Stepping towards the two of them, I let out while trying not to tick her off, “I hope you don’t mind me stating this, but he has a crush on you”. “Yeah we heard it the other day via Anthony. He told everyone,” Rachel had let out, confusing me in the process. “I thought it was Logan who told everyone, not Anthony. Anthony wouldn’t out Clyde on his feelings,” I tell him, yet it just came out confused, leaving me feeling rather dumbfounded for not picking up the pieces fast enough. However, there were no responses from either of them. “We have to get to class,” Lydia had muttered out loud before the two of them stepped away and walked up the stairs that were just off to my left, leaving the flashback in my mind.
Two years ago, before Guinevere had dyed her hair and changed her complete outlook on life, there were two people in my life. I had a boyfriend, named Jack, and I was friends with Logan. There was one day, after having a huge fight with Jack, that I went to see Logan at his place for support. His parents were out, so it was just the two of us, and I thought I would be okay with that. However, the worst happened when I went over there. On the front steps of his house in the pouring rain, I knocked on his white door, only to have him answer, with a rather worried look on his face. “Grace? What are you doing here?” I remember him asking me as I just stared at those blue eyes of his, seeing his white shirt and light blue jeans on. “I need someone to talk to,” I remember telling him before I darted into the house. Inside, there was an outside wall that was adjacent to the left side, and on other side, behind the wall of black and white framed baby photos of Logan throughout his childhood, was the living room: a light grey sectional placed on a burgundy carpet that stretched from the backend to the fireplace with a glass table in front of it, darkish brown dining table behind, with the kitchen behind that wrapped granite countertops around from one side to the other, while holding a marble stone island. “What happened?” I remember him asking me as I walked into the living room that had the fireplace nearest the wall that had the baby photos. “I got into a fight with Jack,” I remember blurting out as I placed my pink ruffled light feather purse on the sectional releasing my anger, before crossing my arms. I was wearing a short dark blue shirt that had a small ruffle that went down the middle, and a tight black skirt that stopped at the knee. Back then, I had my long dirty blonde hair straightened, but I kept one part of it up and pulled up in a curl towards the back on my right side. “What happened?” I remember Logan asking me with a gentle tone in his voice. But that was the only time his voice was gentle that night.
“He threatened to make me stay away from you,” I remember telling him with my voice breaking and my lips trembling as the tears were slowly falling, remembering from earlier that day how he almost hit me before I could run out of his house. I thought Logan would say anything to me, but he didn’t. Instead, he walked towards me, and ever so softly, while letting me get lost in those blue eyes of his, he touched my lips with his rugged fingers of his before leaning in. I still remember grasping those warm, pink lips of his. Soft, yet warm at the same time. “Is this okay with you?” I still remember him asking me as he ran his hand through my hair, pulling it back on my left side, letting me stare at his short yet wavy dark brown hair. “Yeah it is,” I remember telling him at first. But later, I ended up changing my mind. It was soon after, we still continued kissing, but his hands were now grasping my ass, and he bent me over onto the sectional. He took off his shirt, revealing that hairless chest of his, and before letting me run my hands down it, he bent himself over, only to take off my black skirt from the hips, revealing my black lace panties that had a short ribbon at the top. I still remember him placing his face down there and gently kissing the life out of me as he rose back up to my face, only to grab onto the edges of my shirt, taking it off with him as he rose his arms above me. My bra was black, lace, and matched my panties because of the ribbon. It was at that moment when it happened. Logan had picked me up with his hands as I wrapped my legs around him, and he carried me towards the sectional, where he placed me on the sofa, sat down beside me, and had put his hands in between my legs and under my panties to finger me. However, it hurt.
I told myself to give in because I didn’t know how to tell him to stop…
I didn’t believe that he would hurt me. The only person who I thought would hurt me was Jack.
He was the one that threatened to kill me, not Logan…
However, Jack and Logan are one in the same.
The reason why is because after that moment, I clearly should have stated that I did not want to continue, but he made it seem like I wanted this. “We’re both consenting,” I remember him saying, only to make me realize that instead of saying no, I needed to just give in and please him, even if it had hurt me throughout the process.
But I clearly wanted to stop…
I did not want to do this anymore…
But he was the one…
I thought it would be Jack, not him…
Not my best friend who I used to love…
Not my best friend who I used to date the year before…
I had loved him, and I had seriously thought about getting back together with him, but he insisted we wait until we were older.
Now, because of what he has done to me and to us, that future that I had thought the two of us would have is now drowning inside of me, silently waiting like an emotional volcano about to erupt…
I expressed that I was in pain, and even after a brief moment of realizing that it had hurt, he still continued anyway…
Logan, I couldn’t say, “stop”, or “no”, because I didn’t know how to. But when I expressed the word, “owe” out of my mouth, you continued anyway, even after realizing it had hurt. You may have stopped to realize it, but you still continued fingering me…
Logan, just because I express the word “owe” in that moment doesn’t mean that you have the right to continue because you wanted to please me. I thought it was what you wanted, so I gave in for you…
I loved you, and I would’ve done whatever I could to get back with you, even if it meant giving into the pain…
He inflicted my “yes” upon me when I clearly wanted to stop…
I didn’t know what to do…
Logan, you clearly wanted to do this to me…
You may not have used force to get me to have sex with you, but I clearly didn’t want to, and I didn’t know how to tell you to stop…
I have been told my entire life that in certain situations like these you just simply tell the person to stop, but I was never told how to…
Logan, when you said, “We’re both consenting”, my mind was clearly not in the right mindset, because I knew that what went down between the two of us was already wrong…
But I wanted to please you, and the only way was to give into the pain you evoked on me…
Logan, no matter what is said, at the end of the day, you took advantage of me, and raped me. I told myself to give into the pain because I didn’t know how to tell you to stop…
I expressed that I was in pain, and even after a brief moment of realizing that it had hurt, you still continued anyway…
You even inflicted my “yes” upon me when I clearly wanted to stop…
…
…
…
“Are you all right?” I hear a male voice say towards me, about a foot from below my height at the end of the day as I walk past the library that is on the high school side, and across from the theatre. “Who was that?” I ask, only to turn around and find a light brown haired, brown eyed, 10 year old boy walking towards me. “You were crying,” he tells me as he raises his hand towards me. He was wearing a black and white penguin shirt and dark jeans to match. “What’s your name?” I asked the boy, reaching down to his height. “It’s Shawn, and I’m waiting for my father,” he tells me. “Shawn, what are you doing on the high school side?” I asked him. He was outside the theatre and sitting on a bench that mirrored the library entrance before walking towards me. I was now in front of the pathway that led to the elementary side. “My father told me to wait here as he picks up my younger brother,” Shawn tells me, showing those innocent brown eyes of his that I knew wouldn’t be innocent anymore at one point in his life. This world has too many problems, but no matter what happens, it never justifies peoples actions. Just because we live in a world of rape doesn’t give Logan the right to rape me. I clearly wanted him to stop, but I couldn’t communicate it to him. But just because there isn’t a “no” present doesn’t mean that a “yes” is present, and the bottom line shows that is rape. “Where’s your father?” I ask Shawn as I lean down to his height. “He teaches on the elementary side, but he doesn’t want me to be roaming the halls without someone, ” Shawn tells me. Taking a deep, long sigh, I finally hear words come out of me that I never thought I would say to a little boy, “Why not I walk you over?”
“Okay,” he lets out rather under his breath before I walk past the theatre and down the hall towards the elementary side. Looking out the window, I see the shared parking lot that staff and students share. To map out our school from a bird’s eye view, the elementary side would be on the right, the junior high on the left, and high school in the middle, with paths that connect each side from left to right. Every student in town goes to the school - that’s why there is only one school, one hospital, two churches, and one coffeehouse slash restaurant. Some people might say that we have no government, meaning that we have no justice system, but then again I like to believe that is a myth. “Are you okay?” Shawn asks me. I didn’t realize that I stopped walking down the path and was staring out the grey-tinted glass window. “Sorry Shawn, I got lost in thought,” I mumbled out at him. “What’s going on? You seem to be rather quiet,” Shawn asks while stating in a calm voice. That damn calm voice. Why did Logan have to talk that way back then? Taking a deep long sigh, I lowered myself to Shawn’s height, making sure that we kept eye contact. “Shawn, can you keep a secret?” I asked him, even though it came out more pleading than a question. “Of course you can. I won’t tell anyone,” Shawn tells me. Finally getting the courage, and taking a long breath, I finally told him, “I was raped.”
“What is that?” He asks me rather dumbfounded. I’m glad he doesn’t know what rape is. At least not yet. But when he does find out, the main lesson that he should take from it is that he should never do that to anyone, or let anyone do that to him. I know it can go either way. “You will find out when you’re older,” I tell him before standing back up and starting walking towards the elementary side where his father would be waiting for him at the front entrance. “Why won’t you tell me now?” He asks me in a pleading voice as he grabs my hand and pulls it back. Instead of having a flashback to the incident, all I see are Shawn’s little innocent eyes. Those innocent brown eyes. He has no idea about the hatred of this world and how dark it can get. All I want to do is make sure that he never finds out the truth about what rape really is, but he’ll learn at some point, like every boy does at some point in their lives. “Come on, your father is going to get worried about where you are,” I tell him before making sure that he walks over to the elementary side, with my left arm wrapped around him. When I get to the elementary side, I see the elementary library across from the music room, which comes up on my right as we enter. On my left is a hallway that has classrooms on either side. In front of us is another hallway that leads down to where more classrooms would be, but there is one set of blue lockers on the right side of the hall in the distance, with two entrances to the playground on the left behind the two bathrooms.
“Thank you for walking me over,” Shawn tells me before letting go of my hand and walking into the music room. “Where are you going?” I ask Shawn rather worriedly. I thought his father didn’t want him roaming the halls. I needed to get home, but Shawn being safe was now my number one priority.