Cracked Lips.

July 27, 2011
It is summer. A year or two ago. She doesn't care to remember. His fingers are floating effortlessly across her silken skin. She does not care to feel. This isn't what she wants. She can't breathe. Can't scream. Can't even whisper a tiny two letter word, "no." He bends his neck down to her shoulder and she stiffens and tries to sink into the mattress even more. He knows she's not ready for this. But he isn't about to wait. He gently pulls the strap off with his teeth. But she still doesn't want it. No matter how gentle or nice he is. It is still as wrong as anything else. He looks up at her. Asks, "Are you okay?" Her words are trapped underneath her tongue. He goes on anyways. Her throat tightens up, and a tear rolls down her perfect cheek. He doesn't notice and instead insist, "You've done this before. Let's do this thing." But the thing is, she may be pretty, and she may be a flirt. But, no. She has not done this before. She does not sleep around. He'll soon figure out, when he takes what isn't his. It seems to go on forever. And when he finally gets to the final point, and he's poised above her. She knows he won't stop. She lays there, and finally after he sucks in a breath, he looks down at her, bewildered. "You've never felt this before?" He takes enjoyment in this. In fact, he's gleeful. In his drunken stupor he slurs out a "Okay, here goes." She didn't ask for this instead she thinks, why me? He works over her. It hurts, but she doesn't dare say a thing. When he's finally done, he says "No one will know about this,clear?" She can only give a meager shake of the head, and then he leaves her there, open and vulnerable. She dresses and brings what's left of herself up to the bathroom. She looks at herself in the mirror. And can't stand what she sees. She jumps in the shower, and stays in there for a couple hours. The water has been cold for about an hour now, but she can't seem to move. She is now on the floor of the tub, curled into herself. She gets the courage to get out. She walks to her room, only a towel around her, and then shaking and covered in goosebumps, crawls under the covers and sleeps.

Back to now. She walks into school. Not a friend in sight. Not like she has one anyways. She keeps her head down, especially when she sees him, can smell his cologne. She slips into her homeroom, and slides some chap stick over her impossibly cracked lips.

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LovelyMiss This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 10, 2011 at 12:30 pm
Oh amazing!(: I loved your descriptions and loved this story. I think it handles this situation perfect. Great job:D
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