Possession | Teen Ink

Possession

July 13, 2014
By Anonymous

I thought I could trust you at one point. That day I spent breaking down was wasted the second I realised what you really did. My name was trashed in my mind. My self-esteem was drowned to the worst it had ever been. My ego was diminished to nothing more than shame and self hate. I acted like a person crazy in love until I finally realised the only thing I was crazy in was putting all my trust in you. You were-are- a monster. It took me a few months to come to that conclusion but I came to it. I should have listened to my friends. They were right.

Alexander was my name. I was hidden in the dark. I let you help me. Pull me into the light. I thought you were helping me but you weren't. You were compelling me to think it was something more. Every time I looked into your eyes you were sending thoughts into my mind letting me think it was OK to feel like this.

"Are you OK?" You asked me as I let you kiss the wound on my hand. I smiled and nodded as I looked into your eyes. They were grey with amber highlights. Enchanting yet damaging in the long run. You paused the game we were playing- Resident Evil. I wasn't surprised when I found out you like video games. I was surprised when I found you you were twenty-two years old, not seventeen.

You pulled me down and I sat on your pelvis. You leaned up and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around you and you kissed down my neck to my chest. You know I didn't want to go further. You said you were OK with that.

You intertwined our hands together and gently pulled us down. You arched your back as you took your shirt off. You ran your hands over my back as I leaned down to kiss you. I felt your pinky finger slide over my vertebrae. I can still feel the goose pimples. You unbuckled your belt then mine. I opened my eyes. Your eyes were open too. I looked into them, falling under their immense power.

You flipped us over. You slid my pants off. Then your own. You kissed down my body and back on my mouth.

"Relax," you told me. I made the fatal error of looking into your eyes as you said it. I loosened my whole body. You forced your entirety into me. I cried at the pain. You wiped the tear away. I went to open my eyes to beg you to stop but you made me look into your eyes again. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you," you said. I believed you. I let you do what you wanted, shedding tears the whole time. At one point I was able to escape and watch you do it all. It only made me cry more. When you were done you asked if I still loved you. I lied and said yes. I didn't know how I felt about you anymore. You made me emotionally destroyed.

You, me, and two of my friends are the only ones that know. I can't tell anyone else. That'd be screwing myself over. If too many people find out I'd get a lot of pity. I don't need that. I just wanted to let you know what you did to me. I sit in my room on the corner of my bed crying my eyes out, begging you to take it all back. That whole day. I don't want to live with this memory. I can't live with it. What I'm doing is not living. I'm not even existing because you took everything that exists in me out when you raped me.

You walked me out of your apartment as my mum called me and told me I should come home. It was five in the afternoon when you did. You kissed me forehead and mad me look into your eyes.

"Nobody can know, OK?" I nodded and you kissed me. We waited in silence for ten minutes until my mum picked me up. "Bye," you waved. I smiled. My mum asked me if I had fun. I lied.

I opened myself up to you. You took advantage and had fun. You're living without worry about anybody knowing, but I know. My friend does too. I am crying right now, trying to stop because it hurts too much. Who am I now? I can't let this control my life. Someone is going to find out what happened. My chest hurts. I'm trying so hard to get over you and all the betrayal, but I can't because I fell in love with you. But now I hate you. I can't stand to live knowing you used me just to please yourself. Are you happy knowing what you did to me? You deserve to be burned for using me. I was fourteen. I'm a year older now. I see what you did. I can't erase it from my mind. It's embedded. It will stay there forever, haunting me, killing me slowly. I can't let you win. I refuse to. I sat, contemplating whether or not suicide was the best solution for me. It's not. It can't be. Too many people will suffer from grief, thinking they did it. They didn't. You did. It's your fault. You screwed me up. You're the reason I can't get close to anyone. You're the reason I can't trust anyone. Grieving over something that I thought I lost was pointless. I didn't lose anything. I just gained. I gained hate. So much hate to where I hate myself for letting you compel me. I should have been string enough to say no. But I wasn't. I was pathetic. Weak. And I'm sorry. For everything.


The author's comments:
A realistic sense of what happens during an intense, lifechanging incident.

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