Chapter Text
I remember everything vividly from that day. The way I stood in the shower for an hour. Scrubbing so hard i felt like my skin would fall off. I kept getting reminded of his words. The way he called me a whor*. I scrubbed till I was bleeding. At that moment, I did feel like a f*cking whor*.
It’s already been three days since it happened but it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been feeling light shivers ever since. Showered five times every day, still feeling just as dirty.
*
(Jake’s perspective:)
Me and Johnnie just started on this new movie. It’s quite fun actually. I notice my phone is calling. “Tara” it says. I wonder whether I should answer it not.
“Hello?” I answer. I hear crying from the other side. “If you’re trying to get back with me it’s not gonna happen.” “No, no” she sobs out. She clears her throat before continuing.
“Um, so I went out today. This morning. I- uh- went to that shabby place in town. And um- this guy he- he…”
“He what Tara?” I ask.
“He… raped me, and- and he touched me.” she says as she breaks down in tears. As she’s crying I feel a tear dripping down my face too. “Do you want me and Johnnie to come over?” I ask. “Yeah, that- that would be nice. If Johnnie’s okay with it?”
“Alright, I’ll pick up some food on the way.” I tell her before hanging up. “What was that?” Johnnie asks me. “Someone… he raped Tara.” “Oh…” he says.
He agrees to join me. We drive to the closest mc Donald’s and order some food for both me and Tara since Johnnie said he’d already eaten. (More hints of an eating disorder, JAKE PICK IT UP NOW. YOUR POOKIE BEAR BO BOO IS SUFFERING RN AND YOU DONT EVEN NOTICE WTFFFF)
After a ten minute drive we are finally outside of Tara’s house. I quickly open the car door and run to the door of her house. I rip it open and sprint to her bedroom. I am met with Tara sitting crumpled up in her bathrobe. Newly showered.
Her skin lightly bleeding. Hand marks all over her body. I sit down beside her and bring an arm around her. She lays her head on my shoulder and cries silently.
I look at her thighs that are ever so slightly showing and aren’t covered by her bathrobe. Her thighs are covered in small, little rips and scars. Her hand meet mine, they are dry because of what seems like her scrubbing the sh*t out of her skin.
I hear Johnnie coming in through the door and close it behind him. He walks fast over to the two of us. His eyes slightly teary, he puts the food down on the table and puts a hand on Tara’s shoulder before hugging her tightly, making so that she is squeezed between the two of us.
“I- I’m sorry.” I say. “You didn’t deserve that.” I say as Johnnie lays his head on her back. It’s nearly turned into a triple cuddling session. “No Jake, it was my fault. I decided to go out and get way too drunk.”. No, it wasn’t her fault. I grip her tight.
“Tara, that’s- that’s not true.” Johnnie says. “You weren’t yourself. It’s never the victims fault.” He adds. At this moment I couldn’t agree more but I just slightly nod. He is such a sweet soul and it feels like I’m falling in love with him all over again. She hulks onto my shoulder.
*
(Tara’s perspective)
It’s been three days since it happened. Jake and Johnnie have been staying over every day since I’ve called, don’t get me wrong, I love that they took their time to be here with me but I wish that it never happened.
No matter what we talk about there’s always this underlying feeling. No matter what we talk about, what I read, what I see I always get reminded of the pain. The way he touched me. Everything reminds me of me of one small moment.
It’s kind of like the moments before my grandpa died. My mom tried peppering it with colors and happy things, but even with the hundreds of vibrant colors I still was reminded of one single thing. Behind every pink and colorful surface there was a black feeling of emptiness and guilt.(Me rn)
I remember feel certainly empty when he couldn’t remember my name or who I was.
And now, every time Jake or Johnnie brought it up I felt the same tightness in my chest. The light shivers down my back. The constant reminders of the pain. Because no pep talk or deep conversation could make me forget for just one second how much it hurts. Every single f*cking night I’ve cried myself to sleep. Every f*cking day, night and morning.
Never any rest from the big hurting emptiness. The way every breath I took felt sharp but lifeless. No matter how big the smile on my face is or how loud I laugh I never feel the way I did.
