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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Teen · #1861638
A short story about Prom Night and true meaning of friendship.


Prom Night



         I stared down at the floor. The pieces of what had been my life were scattered, broken. Last night had been one of the craziest nights of my life. Isn’t the prom after party always crazy? I don’t remember much, other than a drink here, another drink there, a few shots here and so on. I honestly don’t even remember how I got home. When I woke up this morning, I had a really bad feeling in my stomach. It felt as if there was a little baby in there, trying to push his way out. I looked up into the mirror, and took a close look at myself. My hair was a mess. My makeup, which I didn’t have much of, was running in streaks down my face. Had I been crying? I couldn’t concentrate. I looked down at the floor, then back up at myself. My eyes, as blue as they normally are, didn’t look so blue. Instead, they were a dirty, bloodshot red. They were dried out, worse than they had ever been. My muscles, which ached more than I think they ever have, could barely support my legs as I dragged myself back into my room. I laid down on my bed, closed my eyes, and try to elaborate the things that happened last night. I felt myself dozing off, and then my phone rang. It’s Jeff, my best friend, my prom date. He wasn’t able to make it to the party. At least that’s what I was told. Maybe he just didn’t want me to go. He warned me to be careful. He has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. If I were out of high school, I could almost assure myself we would be married. He has always been there, for everything in my life. I answer the phone, and I’m greeted by his deep voice. “Heather!” he yelled. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” I say back. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Before he said anything, he hesitated. His voice was now soft, and quiet. I could tell something was wrong with him by the way he talked. He was upset. At what exactly, I wasn’t sure. Slowly, he managed to ask me “Do you even remember last night?” I thought about it. The same question I had been asking myself just minutes before he called. What could have possibly have happened last night, to make Jeff, my closest friend this upset? “No.” I say back. “Well, think about it, and call me back when you do.”



    The connection dropped, along with my heart. The images slowly started coming back into my mind. The most vivid things I remember were the red, plastic cups. I remember walking up. Upstairs? I asked myself. I remember being led, down a hall, holding onto someone. The last thing I remember was falling. Not down the stairs, or onto a floor, but into a mattress. I can remember the laughing, and the smell of alcohol. The rest of my mind was blurred, almost as if a blizzard had erupted in my brain. Then my eyes opened. I was in my room, in my bed. I remember dragging myself into the bathroom. With my mind caught up with the current time, I began to wonder how I had gotten home, in one piece. Anything could have happened last night. My mind, racing with thoughts, began to throb. Now it felt like that baby had made its way into my head.

I reached down onto my bed, and grabbed my phone. My thumbs, along with the rest of my fingers, we're shaking uncontrollably. That's when I noticed the cuts and the bruises. Purple splotches outlined my arms from forearm to elbow. How had I not noticed this before? Had I been in a fight? Thoughts came into my mind left and right. I wasn't able to focus on any particular one. I attempted to roll over. I felt a sharp pain in my legs, almost as if my aching muscles had been held under a lighter. I managed to take my jeans off. I notice the button to my jeans was no longer in tact. I felt my heart sink again. Only this time, worse. I felt as if a roller coaster had just taken a steep dive, never reaching the bottom of the hill to make its way back up. The first thing I noticed were my toes. The pink nail polish was fading. As my eyes made their way up the rest of my lower body, my jaw began to drop down. Both of my legs had scratch marks. My shins and calves were the worst. The tattoo I had gotten last summer, with the words "Forever Young" surrounded by two angels, were faintly visible underneath the numerous scratches and dried up blood. My thighs, which were usually a tan color, were now a dark purple. I had bruises not only on my arms, but on my thighs. My aching muscles were actually broken blood vessels. I slowly but surely stood myself up. I turned towards my dresser, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked worse than I did before. The bruises, the scratches, the dry skin, all seemed to stick out and were more noticeable. I turned around. As I turned my head, I couldn’t help but feel the numbness in my neck. My back was in the same miserable shape as the rest of my body, as well as my hips. I turned back around and took a full look at myself.



    Every thought, every emotion, every feeling I had, left my body. I felt worthless. I was ashamed to even look at myself. I would have never in an eternity thought that I would look like I did. I sat back down on my bed, and concentrated on everything I could remember. The Prom, the drinks. The people. Drinks, drinks, and more drink. The drinks. How could I have let myself consume that many? Before last night, I had only consumed one alcoholic beverage in my life. It had no where near the effect it did then than it did now. My vision started to fade in and out. I was light headed. I had the feeling you get when you stand up really fast, only worse. I fell back onto my bed. I looked over and saw my phone. "1 new message" I see the screen say. I reach over and grabbed my phone. My fingers still trembled with fear.



The first message, from Jeff said this. "Heather, there are just things about you.. I don't know. Ill always love, care, and be here for you no matter WHAT happens. And you better believe it. I can't even begin to describe what you mean to me. How you make me feel sometimes. All the time. I will always love you, more and more every day. You mean so much to me! I don't know where I would be in life if I didn't have someone like you in it.. Someone I've known my whole life.. And someone I feel 110% comfortable telling anything to.. Someone I would die for.. If you ever, ever, ever need anything, PLEASE know I'm here.. I can't help but remind you of that even though I know that you are aware of this.. You are one of the best if not the best things to ever come in my life! I’m about to call you.”



Just as I finished reading the sweetest text message I had ever been sent, my thoughts were interrupted by the loud vibration coming from my phone. It was Jeff, and he was calling me again. Slowly, I opened the phone and pressed it against my warm, reddened ears. I hear Jeff’s voice immediately. “I still can't get over the fact this even happened. Last night, when I told you that I wasn't going to the party, I lied. I was there, watching your every move. I watched make every drink you made, and take every shot you took. I don't know why I didn't stop you. I wanted to see what would happen, and now I'm wishing that I didn't. I don't know if you will hate me for this, or what. A group of 3 guys, guys who I had never seen before, started talking to you. They were tall and muscular. By the looks of it, they could probably take control of anyone they wanted, drunk or not. You were drunk, and passed out on the couch when they started messing with you. No one around the party even bothered to notice, they were too busy worrying about who was going to get the last beer. I sat across the room, acting like I was unconscious. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't. I knew if I tried to make them stop, they would beat me to no end, and both of us would be rendered helpless. Instead, I watched as they humiliated you, took pictures of you, and tossed you around. By the looks of it, you were enjoying it. I couldn't believe what I had seen. It was so unlike you. I thought it was a dream. Never in a thousand years would I have thought that this would be happening to you, and I would be sitting here hopeless, having to watch every little move the three strangers decided to make. I closed my eyes, and tried to shake the images out of my head. When I looked up, I caught a glimpse of you, your body being drug up the stairs. I got up and made my way down the hall, and up the stairs. I waited outside of the bathroom. Not sure of which room you were in, I started to panic. Down the hall, I heard a scream. I darted down the narrow and dim hallway and listened closely outside of the door. I heard them laughing. I put my hand on the door knob and slowly tried to turn it open. As my hand made contact with the brass handle, I quickly thought about what my next move would be. What were they doing? What would I do? What would happen to me? All of these thoughts raced in and out of my mind. Instead, to no surprise, the door was locked. So here I was, hopelessly listening to you cry, scream, and yell. I heard the loud music coming from downstairs. The floor I was sitting on was vibrating from the unnatural bass that was coming from the speakers. Even with my head against the door, I heard nothing. Your cries for help had been silenced by the loud music coming from downstairs. I managed to feel the floor vibrate, not from music, but from footsteps coming from the room you were so desperately trying to get out of. I started to panic. I had no where to hide. All I could think about was the door opening, and a fist going straight between my eyes. I looked around the hall, and to my surprise, I found a closet beside the corner I was cuddled in. I pulled myself up, and frantically tried to open the closet door. My fingers fumbled around and couldn't get a grip. I heard voices coming from behind the door you were in. Just before the door opened, I managed to stuff myself into a closet full of clothes. The first think I noticed was the smell leather. I could not see anything; my eyes had not adjusted to the darkness of the closet. I turned around, and through a small vent in the door, I managed to hear the voices, of what appeared to be the men, leaving the room. I waited for nearly 5 minutes before I decided to get up. The 5 minutes I waited seemed like an eternity. I wanted to make sure no one was around, and that no one was coming back. I opened the closet door and quickly turn towards the door to where your agonizing screams came from. For the second time, my hand reached out to grab the brass door knob. My hands, which were still shaking with fear, slowly turned the handle. I pushed lightly on the door, not sure of what was behind it. My head was being bombarded with thoughts of what could have just happened. The lights were off. As I stepped in the room, a cool breeze rushed past my body. The room appeared to be a spare bed room. Directly across from me was an open window, steadily allowing a breeze to flow throughout the room. On the left wall, were stacks of boxes filled with numerous things. On the right, was a bed. Scattered across the floor was what had seemed to be your clothes. I ran over to the edge of the bed, frantically feeling for you under the heap of blankets. I pulled off what seemed like 5 blankets before finally finding your foot. The first thing I recognized your pink toenails. The bright neon pink nail polish stuck out over your purple feet. I tore the remaining blanket off of you and felt my jaw drop in disbelief.



    I will never forget what I saw. Your tattered body, bruised from chest to toe, was shaking. I began to shake you, trying to get you into a conscious state. Your hair was in tangled mess. Your make up, which had been so beautifully applied just a few hours before, was running in steaks down your face. From what I could see, your eyes appeared to be bloodshot, and not the normal sea blue eyes I was used to seeing every day. The tattoo I went with you to get was covered in a mess of scarlet red blood. The numerous scratches scattered around your body showed sign of a struggle. At that point, I knew you had been raped. A guilty feeling sunk into my heart. I kept telling myself all of this could have been avoided. I felt like a huge burden had just been placed on my shoulders. I didn't know what to think. How could I let you, my best friend, get into this situation? Not really being able to think about what was going on; I rushed out of the room. As I left the room, I almost tripped. My vision became blurred and my mind began throbbing. I asked myself why I had gotten up as fast as I did. With no time to think, I gathered myself and turned to the closet I locked myself in a few moments ago. I find a light switch hanging above the door. As the light entered the room, I was forced to shut my eyes. My eyes had just adapted to the dark bedroom. After a few seconds, my eyesight realigned. The first thing I noticed in the closet was a long, dark brown leather jacket. It was a lot longer than me, so I knew it would cover you up without a question. I wondered what a jacket this size was used for, but that was the least of my problems. I ran back into the room, gathered what clothes of yours I could find, and threw them on the bed. I gently sat your limp and unconscious body up, and threw the jacket around you. All of your clothes easily fit inside the jacket with you, so I zipped it up and sat you back down. You let out a small cry, which let me at least know you weren't completely unconscious. I sat you back up and cradled you into my arms. I knew I had to get you outside of the house, and home as soon as possible. Your body was warm. I could smell the alcohol coming from your breath. My arms, covered in blood from the scratches on your leg, became sticky. I made my way back down the dimly lit hallway and stopped at the top of the stairs. Fifteen stairs down, at the bottom of the staircase, were numerous empty bottles of beer and liquor. Alongside that, we're the bodies of the men who had taken control over you. They had obviously had a little too much to drink. The loud music had died down, but I could still hear numerous people talking down stairs. The door, not far from the bodies of the 3 boys, was open. I tightened my grip around you and slowly made my way down the stairs, one step at a time. As I neared the boys, I noticed all of them have their faces buried into their arms. They were wearing jackets. The jackets our football team received for winning the state championship. I didn't bother to see who they were. At that moment, it was the last thing on my mind. The only thing I was concentrated on was getting you somewhere safe. As I crossed the last step, I felt a breeze similar to the one upstairs. Once outside, I made my way to my car, one block over. My slow and light walk began to turn into a light jog. The cold weather was having an effect. I looked down and saw your teeth chattering. Your body began to shake. I tightened my grip around you even more. At that moment in time, I felt protective. I felt like my only purpose was to make sure you were safe. As I reached my car, the only thing I managed to think about was what could have happened if I would have stood up for you. I carefully placed your still unconscious body into the back seat of my car. I whispered to you "Don't worry, everything will be okay." I shut the door. As I climbed into the driver’s seat, I turned the car on, along with the heat. I whipped the car back around and drove past the house where the party was. Only it didn't look like much of a party now. The white, two story house was surrounded by numerous blue and red lights. The officers, who paid no attention to me, were handcuffing everyone in the house. We had made it out just in time. I drove you back to your house. As I pulled into your drive way, I looked at the time. It was 3:47 AM. Your mom’s car wasn't there, so I figured they must have still been out. I opened the back door to my car. The light from my car illuminated your body. I could see the severity of the scratches, and the bruises. It was horrible. I took the jacket off of you. You were a little more conscious than you were before. You managed to get your clothes back on before I guided you into your house and down into your bed. I kissed you on the forehead,

and walked out.”



    I sat along the edge of my bed, in silence, holding onto every last word that left Jeff’s mouth. Could it all be true? Everything Jeff told me? Along with my life, my whole thought process was ruined. I closed my phone and tossed it behind me. What would my parents think? I can hear them now. "Heather, how could you?" The disappointment in their voice is what would kill me the most. How could I let myself into this situation? Did any of this even happen? Was it all a joke? All my life I have been a "perfect" child. My parents are always satisfied with what I've done. I can't think of a time where I've ever let them down, until now. Only this time I let myself down, not just them. He guilty feeling was setting in my stomach. Our trust would be gone. What would my friends think? Would they classify me as a whore? A slut? My reputation would be ruined. I began to cry. For the first time today, my body was actually able to produce a tear. It slowly made its way down my cheek, landing on top of my Tattoo. A bit of the dry blood began to break apart. I sat there. Empty minded and clueless. To weak to get up and wash myself off, I turned around and got under the blanket. The warmth from my blanket hugged my numb and tattered body. It made me feel like it was there, protecting me. Like Jeff. I closed my eyes, and drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.



    My sleep was interrupted by the sound of what appeared to be a car door slamming. I heard the car doors lock. Immediately, I knew it was Jeff. "Jeff!" I tried to say. This was my first time trying to scream since last night. My voice was scratchy and horse. I could barely talk. I looked over at my phone. 28 missed calls. They were all from Jeff. "Heather!?" I heard him yell. His footsteps got louder and louder until he was there, in front of my door.

His dark, brown hair, was fringed across his forehead. His eyes, the same color as mine, were bluer than anything I had ever seen. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Come here." I managed to say back. He took a seat beside me. He began to run his hands through my hair, feeling my forehead, and asked if I was okay.

"I was worried; you didn't reply to my message or answer my calls. After the 20th voice message prompt, I decided to make my way towards your house. I was worried sick. I told you everything I knew about last night. “he said. I sat there, in a world of my own, taking in everything he was saying. I didn't bother talking to him about it. I didn't want any more information about what I had gotten us into. "Do you think you are pregnant?" he slowly asked. Pregnancy. The word hit me like a bullet. My heart, my mind, my feelings, and my nerves, all seemed to be on the track. They had no feelings in them at all. My head began to throb. I couldn't find the power to hold myself up. For the billionth time today, I found myself on the verge of passing out. "Heather.” I heard Jeff say. It's the last thing I remembered before my head and pillow met each other.



    When I woke up, I was surrounded by whiteness. Almost as if you walked into a dark and lightless room, but opposite. It wasn't a blinding white, just enough white to let me know I'm no longer in my room.



I looked over to my left. A heart monitor resided in the corner of the room.

Directly across from me, I saw the back of Jeff's head. He was talking to someone dressed in all white, nodding his head. To the left of Jeff, I was surprised to see my mother. My mother, who looks exactly like me, with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes, is one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen in my life. I felt my stomach turn. I began to ask myself questions like “Does she know? What all has she been told? Is she okay? How long have I been here?” My dad, who I could now see on the other side of my mom, was crying. I had never seen my dad cry before. What could it be? Why was he like that?

    "So your up?" a voice says. Startled, I sat up and looked over. Another man, dressed in all white, stuck his hand out. "Dr.Reid" he said. As I reached out to shake his hand, I realized that my arms aren't sore like they once were. I tried to sit up, but he told me to stay put. "You ma'm, have one heck of a friend out there. Not many people would go through all of that for one person."

He was right. Jeff was too good for me. "So you know?" I asked the doctor, dumbfounded.

"Of course I know darling! And don't worry, everything is fine. Other than a few scratches and bruises here and there you will be fine, and not to mention, should be able to leave soon." My mind was racing with questions at this point. Questions I needed an answer too. "How long have I been here?" "Am I pregnant?" "Are my parents okay? What about Jeff?" The doctor had a smile on his face.

"You've been here for 3 days; your friend Jeff is fine. Your parents are fine as well. At first they were worried, but after I told them how everything was, they seemed to have calmed down.

"Am I pregnant?" I asked again. Right then, it was the only thing I concerned about. The mere thought of having someone's baby, whom I did not know, was mind blowing.

"Ah, yes." said the doctor. "I knew that question would come up again." I have some good news. "You're..." his already quiet, soft voice was hushed as Jeff's deep voice screeched my name. He sprinted over to me, and gave me the tightest hug I've ever received. I felt a few bones in my back pop

"I'm so glad you're okay!" he said. “I didn't know what I would do without you!” I looked over Jeff's shoulder, at the doctor.

"Like I said, one heck of a friend." As he got up, he winked at me and said "not pregnant." I slumped down into the hospital bed.

      For the first time in what seemed to have been an eternity, I felt a weak grin come across my face. I looked up to see my mom and dad, both looking at me and Jeff. To my astonishment, they both had a smile on their face. A smile of approval. Jeff let go of his death hug, and gave me a kiss.

    The last few months of high school, I spent at home. My mom decided to take 3 months off work to home school me the last semester before college. After the incident, we all agreed it was best I wasn't enrolled in the same school as the three boys who raped me. Come to find out, it was the three stars of the football team. My parents didn't press charges. Their lives would be miserable as it is. The star player’s scholarships were removed, and their dream of playing professional football one day was just that, a dream.          

    In my case, however, a dream came true. Jeff and I became engaged, and planed on going to the same college. If anything, he taught me to be thankful for what I have in life. To not always take things for granted. He also not only taught me to care for others, but to always give people the up most respect and attention. You never know what impact your actions could have on another person’s life. You don't know where your life can end up in the blink of an eye, so live every day to its fullest.

© Copyright 2012 Brandon (brandoh94 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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