Translate   11 years ago

One Little Lie “Take me back to Barcelona!” my friend Maia moans as she re-joins us after pouring herself what I’m sure is her ninth drink of the evening. She glances down into her glass with a disinterested expression on her face, as though she is unsatisfied with the beverage in her hand. “I wouldn’t mind going back there,” I chip in quietly with a small smile, though Maia doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken. “Let’s go back then. Let’s all of us just give up university and live in Spain. I think we learned enough Español to get by there, so let’s go,” Noelle, another of my friends, suggests as I look to her briefly. A few months before we went on holiday, Noelle fell in love for the first time. Not long after she realised she was in love, he broke her heart, and she later found out that her brother had played a part in her heart getting broken. As a result, she has had a pretty rough ride the last few months and I can tell that she hasn’t been her usual self recently. My heart aches knowing that there is nothing I can do to help her overcome these emotions. I can’t take the pain away, all I can do is listen to how she feels used and worthless, and I can’t blame her considering what her ‘ex’ did to her. “I’m up for that,” Kallie says, taking a swig of her drink. “That’s it then, it’s sorted, we’re moving to Barcelona!” Maia chirps jumping up and down in excitement the way you would expect an eight year old to. I glance from Maia, the loud and outspoken one in the group, to Kallie, the quieter yet more stubborn 18-year-old in our group of friends. Though they aren’t horrible people, I don’t get on particularly well with either of them. Noelle and I have a lot of similar traits so I find I have always gotten on better with her and in fact, I often think of how I probably wouldn’t be friends with Maia or Kallie if it weren’t for Noelle holding us all together. However, after getting our exam results last month, I learned that Maia and I would have to learn to get alone somehow, since we are both going to the same university. While I think Maia is lovely person, she is too outspoken and brash for my liking. She doesn’t hide her opinion and there have been a couple of incidents where she has been unjustly hurtful towards other people, but I have never stepped out of my place and said anything, despite finding it rude and disrespectful of her. “Can I get you another drink, Celia?” Noelle draws my attention. “No, thank you, I have enough left,” I look down at my drink as I speak, scrutinising the remnants of the alcohol in the clear glass. I’d had my first alcoholic drink when I’d been on holiday with the girls, though I hadn’t particularly wanted to. Maia had wanted to play a drinking game in the hotel while we got ready for our first night out and this was one of the rare occasions where Kallie had agreed with Maia’s suggestion. Usually, Noelle was on the sober side of the equation, but I could sense that she was too heartbroken after what had happened with her ‘ex’ to want to stay sober so she had joined in with the game, leaving me as the only non-drinker. I hadn’t particularly wanted to drink, and none of the girls had forced me to, but I remember feeling segregated and distant from them as they started the game, despite being only a few feet away from them. I’d had some shots, which I could feel torch my throat as they burned their way down my oesophagus, and for the first time in my #life, I felt truly accepted. I finally felt like I was truly a part of the group now that I was participating in the same activities as everyone else. After the shots, when we moved on to the bars in Barcelona, I tried some cocktails before finding ‘my drink’ - orange juice and vodka. And now, as I stand in a run down kitchen in a small and fairly unclean flat in the country I have lived in for my entire #life, I stare into the glass to see the same drink staring back at me. The only difference is that I have made this drink myself, to my own criteria. Although Maia had watched me like a hawk as I made it - to ensure I actually poured alcohol into the glass - I had managed to get away with using minimal vodka, so much so that I can only taste the orange juice whenever I take a sip of my drink. That being said, I am wary of drinking it too quickly in case someone gets me another stronger drink and I start to lose control. “Kallie?” Noelle asks around the group before battling her way through the crowds to the opposite side of the kitchen. “Is she OK?” I turn to Kallie. “She’s fine,” Maia interrupts. I notice Kallie glance sternly to Maia, who has now become lost in her own little world as she starts dancing to the blaring music. “She seems a little bit distant,” I confide in Kallie, the person closest to Noelle in our small group. “And you’d be fine if someone had bet that he could make you fall in love with him?” Kallie questions rhetorically. “She’s dealing with it,” she shrugs, turning her attention to the direction Noelle had wandered off in. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t like knowing that she is sad, it’s upsetting for me,” I reveal. “Girl, man up!” Maia interrupts again, not holding back on her rudeness and insensitivity. “You need to forget about it. Noelle will be fine, she just needs to get over it.” “Believe me, I’m trying,” Noelle states abruptly from a few feet away. I turn just in time to see her before a tall guy walks right in front of her path. She elbows her way through the crowd that has somehow managed to appear around this guy, carrying a drink for herself and one that she hands to Kallie. “Nate is a bastard, and I cannot wait to move away and be shot of him and my brother. I can’t be doing with either of them,” she declares, taking a big gulp of her drink. My heart aches for her again, knowing that this is not typical Noelle behaviour. Noelle is more reserved, like myself, and she didn’t even have her first alcoholic drink until after Nate broke her heart. I am worried that she drinks so she doesn’t have to feel the pain Nate caused, and I’m worried that she may become addicted to drinking if she uses it to forget her feelings. “Hey, can I speak to you, please?” I hear a quiet, pleading voice that I immediately recognise as Nate Mitchell’s, the person that broke Noelle’s heart. He is standing behind her, and a quick peek at him tells me that he feels awful about what happened between them. He is unshaven and his usually perfectly styled hair is shaggy and unkempt. His face appears gaunt and although I hadn’t known him particularly well before everything happened with Noelle, I can tell that he has lost a lot of weight. His eyes are sunken and puffy, and the large circles framing the underneath of his dark eyes are so black they are impossible not to notice. “No,” Noelle states, refusing to look at him. She takes another gulp of her drink. “Please, Noelle,” his voice breaks as he speaks, as though he is fighting back the tears. He looks to me for a moment, appealing to my better nature, and I cannot take it. His brown eyes are bearing into my light blue ones and I find it hard not to empathise with him. Though he did hurt my best friend in the worst way possible, I cannot help but think Noelle should hear him out. Maybe he had a legitimate reason for doing what he did? “Noelle-” I begin. “No,” Maia and Kallie assert their authority in unison, their voices loud, demanding to be heard. “And don’t you even think of empathising with him,” Maia adds to me, and I am put back in my place immediately. The stern and aggressive expression of her face screams at me and I am reminded that she is neither to be messed with nor to be defied, and appealing to Nate’s better nature would mean I was defying her. “Noelle, please,” Nate pleads again. I look away from him, just missing his gaze as he turns his attention to me for the second time. I stare into the bottom of my glass at the remaining dregs of my drink. Without thinking, I bring the glass up to my mouth and down the rest of it quickly, though to other people I am sure it would have been a slow pace. “I need to use the bathroom,” I mutter quietly, fully aware that neither Kallie, Maia nor Noelle are paying attention to anything I say while Nate is standing so close to Noelle. I duck out of the group and head out of the kitchen, glad to be away from the confrontation. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s confrontational. I detest any form of disagreement and always try and do my best to avoid it, though sometimes it simply isn’t possible. Making my way through the kitchen is a harder task than I had anticipated, with bodies lining every kitchen counter and table, and a crowd standing in a circle at the door. I stand a few feet away from them for a moment, debating whether to go back to my friends, but the thought of confrontation propels me forward. I make my way through the group fairly quickly and when I’m on the other side, I question why I found it so intimidating to move through the circle. I don’t dwell on it for too long and instead make my way through the house, gently nudging my way through the tens of bodies that line walls of the flat. Climbing the stairs proves to be a difficult feat with multiple people scattered on each step, talking, kissing, sleeping. I try not to look at anyone directly, unsure of how much alcohol they have had and whether or not they have been affected by it, and instead I focus on getting to the bathroom in one piece. When I reach the sanctity of the bathroom, I shut the door behind me and stand in front of the sink, taking in my reflection as I look into the mirror for a second. Am I drunk? I ask myself. While on holiday, all of my friends had joked that I’m such a lightweight one drink could tip me over the edge. Since then I have been conscious about drinking too much and not noticing when the drink is starting to take control over me. I squint my eyes, and then return them to normal. I squint, and open them wide. I return them to normal, concluding that I am not drunk but I should probably try and keep my alcoholic intake to a minimum. My heart rate spikes as I hear the door open. I spin in my place to see Erik Garner - a troublemaker from my year at school - standing in the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t lock it,” I say with a polite smile, hoping he will leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a step toward me, further into the bathroom, and shuts the door behind him. “Sorry, I’ll let you use the bathroom first,” I smile again and make my way across the small bathroom to the door, but he is standing in my way. I try to step around him, but he shifts his weight onto his left foot, so he is standing square in front of me. “Excuse me, please,” I avoid looking him in the eye for fear that it might aggravate him. “Come on, don’t be like that,” he purrs, placing his hand on my hip as he speaks. With his other hand, he reaches behind him toward the door handle and I hear a click. He has locked the door. He has just locked himself in the room with me. Not thinking, I take a step back, and his hand falls off my hip. The distance doesn’t stop him. My clear disinterest in him doesn’t stop him; he takes a step closer to me. I take one big step further back, before realising that I have reached the other side of the room and there is nowhere left for me to go. I don’t speak. I avoid looking at him. I plan my route out of the room and attempt to leave. Again, he stops me, putting his hand around my waist as though he has complete control over me, before dragging me back to where I was just standing. “I would like to go please,” I still avoid his eyes. “And what if I don’t want you to go?” he questions, his voice slurred and his words poorly enunciated. He is trying to be seductive and alluring, though he isn’t having the desired effect on me. “I would like to go please,” I repeat. “Don’t be like that,” he whispers in my ear, and takes a step closer to me until I can feel his body heat resonating in the inches between us. I am frozen. I try to move, but my brain has disconnected from my body. I try to scream, but my brain has disconnected from my mouth. I cannot move, I cannot scream, I can only breathe. “Please,” I mutter, though it is barely audible. Erik leans in closer to me, and I can feel his breath on my face. He comes in further and bends down slightly, so that his lips are inches from my neck. I still can’t move. My heart races as my palms begin to sweat in fear. He manoeuvres his hands around my waist until they get to my back. Suddenly I can feel him tugging at my shirt, pulling it up with fervour. “No,” I say quietly, unable to break through my fear enough for my voice to be strong and loud. My brain seems to have reengaged with my body as my hands move to his, pulling them back down. But I am too weak and he is too strong. His strength overpowers me, and there is nothing I can do. The tears that appear in my eyes soon spill over onto my cheeks as the powerlessness washes over me. “Yes, yes,” Erik mutters as his lips make contact with my neck. “NO!” I state louder, but that only encourages him further. He walks forward, pushing me into the wall behind me with so much force my back starts to throb. He grabs at my shirt, pulling it further up, as his hands wander across the naked skin of my torso. My brain is fully reengaged with my body now as my meagre strength returns. I push at his shoulders, hoping to put distance between us. Nothing. I push harder. Nothing. I am powerless to him. I am too weak. “Please,” I plead once more, giving him one final forceful shove. It is fruitless. I am not strong enough. “You act all innocent, but I know what girls like you are like... I know what girls like you want,” he purrs into my neck before sinking his teeth into my skin, his hands continuously wandering around the skin of my body. I cry out in pain, my brain evidently having reconnected to my mouth. The tears are flowing freely as I realise that no one is going to save me. “Celia!” I hear shouting at the door as someone bangs on it from the other side. I immediately recognise the voice as Maia’s, but quicker than I can react to it, Erik has moved his hand and placed it over my mouth. His deathly cold hand smells of beer as he presses harder into my face. “Not. A. Word,” he enunciates every syllable, and for the first time I stare into his eyes. They are a shocking blue, bluer than I have ever seen any eyes before. And it is apt; they suit his ice cold personality. They are terrifying and frightening... They are cold and distant. They are authoritative and corrupt. I nod in understanding at him. My whole body aches to scream out to Maia, but fear paralyses me. I am only 5’4”; Erik has to be at least 6’1”. I am a fairly slim build; Erik works out. Even if I had the skills to fight, it would be useless for he is too big and I am not powerful enough. “CECELIA!” Maia’s voice is louder, more urgent, as the banging gets louder. I glance to the door, and back to Erik. His eyes convey all of the warning that his mouth doesn’t say. Thud! I glance to the door again. Something is happening out there... Thud! Crash! The door flies open, and Erik spins around to see the scene unfold. A large stranger has burst through the bathroom door; he stands in front of the sink, cradling his shoulder. The poor door hangs off its hinges, wood scattered around the floor from where it has split. I see Maia standing in the doorway, asserting her power as she stands with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Get away from her,” she hisses at Erik. Though I can’t see his face, I can feel his body tense up in anticipation. “Now,” Maia adds, curling her top lip up in frustration. Erik doesn’t move. Maia is only 5’1”, so she is even shorter than I am, but she has a feisty personality. Kallie and Noelle have always said she is a firecracker who would take on anyone twice her size and win; though she is short, she has a temper and a half and she is one of the most stubborn and determined people I know. She doesn’t care about size; she only cares about having a good fight. Maia takes one step closer to Erik, and I see him shift on his feet. Maia takes another step and Erik relaxes. He breaks into a cool and easy stride, right past Maia and out of the bathroom. Maia watches him leave before turning to me as I fumble to return the bottom of my shirt to its normal position around my waist. “Are you OK? What did he do to you? What did he do to you?!” Maia questions furiously, demanding answers off me before I can process her words. “I’m alright,” I stutter, unsure of how to feel. My mind is frazzled, my hands are shaking, my knees feel like jelly. I spot the toilet out of the corner of my eye and I surprise myself by how fast I close the toilet seat and sink onto it, placing my head in my hands. “Are you OK?” a male voice asks me, and I realise that it is the guy who broke the door down. “Go and get Erik, Nick,” Maia demands. “I have a few things to say to that prick.” “No,” I look up to Maia and this Nick person, but he leaves as soon as Maia nods to him. “No,” I repeat. “Why? He deserves whatever he gets,” Maia states abruptly with a stern tone to her voice. She does not want to be messed with. “Because...” I stutter, unable to finish my sentence. “Because nothing,” Maia finishes for me. Watching Nick walk out of the room, I see the crowd of people that has formed by the door, and I feel my face flush. I have always hated being the centre of attention. Maia follows my line of sight and sees the scores of people all pushing to get a look in the bathroom, and she grabs my forearm. “Come on, you need a drink. Hell, I need a drink,” she sighs, pulling me up and dragging me out of the room, back to Kallie and Noelle. She leads me through the hallway and down the stairs, treading on a few people as she does and elbowing even more as she slices the crowd in half to make room for us. She has never been particularly considerate of other people’s personal space. While this usually annoys me, I am grateful for her having this trait at the moment. Every few feet she travels, she stops in her stride and turns to ensure I am following her, which I always am. When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, the crowd starts to split itself without Maia doing anything, as though everybody is aware she is on the warpath and they are afraid to stand in her way. She turns to look at me again, and I can barely look her in the eyes without feeling my face flush red. She begins to spin back around to continue her journey as I speak up. “I’m sorry,” I mumble. She spins back to face me. “What?!” she demands to know, raising her voice so loud that a few people from across the room turn to look at us. I squirm in my place as they try to eavesdrop into our private conversation, but Maia doesn’t seem to care. “What have you got to be sorry for? You didn’t do anything to encourage him, did you?” she demands of me. “Well, no, not exactly,” I squirm. “But maybe I could have... Maybe if I’d...” I begin, unsure of how to finish. I don’t know what I could have done differently, but I know there is something. “‘Maybe if’ nothing,” Maia states. “Erik Garner is a prick and a bastard and quite possibly a rapist. I heard you say no. If I hadn’t been there, he would have raped you and that is NOT your fault. At all. Do you understand?” My eyes dart from the floor to her dark brown eyes, which stare back at me and demand to know my answer. They remind me of Erik’s a little; both he and Maia have very authoritative and powerful eyes. They both know what they want and neither of them will stop until they get it. “I understand,” I whisper, partly because I don’t think Maia would understand how I feel so there is no point trying to explain it to her. I don’t understand how I feel, so how could Maia? She stands in front of me, scrutinising all of my miniscule movements, the way I shift my weight from foot to foot, the way I avoid looking in her eyes, the way I fumble with my fingers in nervousness. “Let’s go,” she commands, turning on her heel and heading through to the kitchen. We make our way to Noelle and Kallie fairly quickly. I can imagine the people in the kitchen can sense Maia’s hostility from a mile away, so make room for her before she is anywhere near them. “Where’s Nate?” “Don’t know, don’t care,” Noelle says as she takes a swig of her drink. I notice that her glass is fuller than it had been before I left to use the bathroom; she must have refilled it. “Have you seen Nick?” Maia asks. “No, is everything OK?” Kallie answers. “Everyone seems a little shaken up, but no one really knows what’s going on.” Maia turns to me, expecting me to answer Kallie’s question. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Kallie and Noelle stare at me, and I find it hard to take. I cannot look them in the eyes, so I choose to glare at the floor instead. “Erik Garner, that’s what’s up,” Maia states. “He tried to rape Celia.” My glare shoots from the floor to Maia. “Shh!” I plead, conscious that the vast majority of the people in the room heard her. “No, I will not shh!” Maia tells me. “Everyone deserves to know what type of a guy he is! He’s a pig. He is a disrespectful bastard.” “Erik tried to rape you?” Noelle asks me, as though she is unable to comprehend it. I meet her gaze for a brief moment. Her brown eyes are usually almost indistinguishable from her pupils due to their dark colour but I can tell that her pupils are large. Her eyes shake a little as she tries to stare at me, and I deduce that she is probably feeling slightly tipsy after having had a little too much to drink, yet she is trying not to let this show. I nod once as the tears spring to my eyes. “Oh, Celia,” Kallie sighs, making her way toward me. She embraces me in a big hug and I can’t control my emotions anymore. The tears begin to spill as my sobbing gets out of control. “Don’t worry, we’re here, you’re safe,” Kallie whispers to me as she starts stroking my hair to calm me down. “Where is he?” she asks Maia. There is a brief pause and I sense that Maia is shrugging her shoulders. “I told Nick to go after him, I don’t know where they are.” “What are you going to do when you see him?” Noelle asks, and I’m sure the question is directed to Maia, though I’m not 100% certain, as Kallie isn’t loosening her grip on me. “Are you serious? We’re calling the police!” Kallie states before Maia can answer. I muster all of my strength and pull out of the hug before my brain even realises that I have moved. “No!” I shout louder than anticipated, and everyone in the room turns to look at me. I glance to everyone briefly, and there are a surprising number of quizzical and disproving looks shot in my direction. “We are not calling the police. I don’t want the police involved,” I plead with Kallie, my voice weak and limp. “Cecelia, you have to,” Kallie has softened her tone of voice in an effort to calm me down. “No. I don’t want them knowing, I don’t want my mum knowing, and I don’t want him to go to prison. It was a mistake, he didn’t mean to-” I start, but am interrupted by Noelle. “I’ll get my phone,” she says, delving into her pocket. I spin around to face her. I cannot form words to bargain with her, but I cannot tear my eyes away. “Don’t look at me like that, Cecelia. He could have hurt you. How would you feel if you heard he had raped someone else and you knew you could have stopped that if you had phoned the police?” her voice is slurred, and it almost reminds me of how Erik had sounded in the bathroom. “I don’t want the police involved. I just want to go home. Please,” I beg, looking to each of my friends in turn. I notice Kallie and Maia nod to one another. “I’ll call a taxi,” Noelle sighs, and takes herself off to a quiet part of the flat. “Let’s get you a seat,” Kallie says to me. Though she isn’t usually maternal, she has her moments, like this one, where she really looks out for me and I am incredibly appreciative for that. With Maia wanting revenge and Noelle wanting to phone the police, it is nice to have a friend who is concerned for my wellbeing. Kallie leads me through the kitchen and back up the stairs, where the trail Maia had previously created has remained. Kallie walks straight past the bathroom and heads toward the door at the end of the corridor. She doesn’t even knock on it before she opens it, launching herself into the room. “Out, now, I need this room,” she commands of whoever has occupied it. Surprisingly, I don’t hear any arguments. About a minute later, a young couple stumble out of the room, clearly having gotten dressed as quickly as possible after Kallie burst in on them. Kallie grabs my forearm and ushers me into the room to sit on the scruffy, unmade bed. I begin to inspect my nails, choosing to keep my attention on my twitching fingers as opposed to Kallie’s questioning. Moments later, the door closes and Kallie comes to join me. “Are you OK?” she asks, and I can feel her eyes bearing into me despite my refusal to look at her. “I am fine,” I say, hoping that I will be able to convince myself of this fact as well. “No, you’re not,” Kallie tells me. “You were nearly raped, you are not fine.” She pauses, waiting for me to answer, but I have nothing to say. “What exactly did Erik do?” she questions. Quickly glancing up at her in disgust at having to relive the event for her, I realise that Maia is in the room. I don’t know when she arrived, or even if she followed us up the stairs, but she stands by the doorway having just been posed the question by Kallie. “I don’t know, I didn’t see much,” she admits. “He had her pressed up against the wall... That was about all I saw.” “Did he grab your wrists? Your waist? Your hair?” Kallie questions, turning her attention back to me. “My waist,” I utter. “Do you want me to check you over?” Kallie asks, and I can sense her frustration at my unwillingness to cooperate. I shake my head. I am embarrassed enough by what has happened... I don’t want her to treat me like an object as she checks for wounds or bruises created by Erik. “I’m fine, now can we just leave it at that please?” I spit out, a little ruder than I would like to have spoken. Without warning, the door opens. Kallie, Maia and I all shoot a glance in its direction in unison. “I’ve called a taxi, it shouldn’t be long,” Noelle informs us, slamming the door shut behind her as she makes her way over to stand in front of the foot of the bed, where Kallie and I sit side by side. “Are you sure you’re OK, Cecelia?” Noelle asks me, dropping to her knees so she looks up to me when she speaks. “I’m fine!” I sigh, exasperated at everyone asking me the same questions. “Please just let us check you over, just to make sure you’re definitely alright?” Kallie asks. “Have you ever been in the situation I am in now?”...

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