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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1789905-Open-the-eyes
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1789905
A story about learning to trust people again, even if you are afraid to trust again.
The music is ringing in her ears.
The smell of mud and grass hangs heavy in the air.
Block it out. Block it out. Block it out.
"You smell so good baby." He purrs in her ear, peeling off the blouse she had spent so many carefull hours picking out.
Her black skirt slithers down her legs.
What is happening to her?
Block it out, Block it out. Block it out.
Fuzz. Swirls. Lights. Sounds.
Silence.

"Jenny? Jenny, oh god!" Sam's screams pierce the silent night.
Sam pulls at her, trying to lift her up into her lap.
"Jenny what happened?" She screams.
Silence.
"Sam? Sam, what's going on?" A male voice falls over the girls and footsteps rush down towards her.
"David! She's not dressed! Stay back!!" Sam calls to him, and the steps stop.
"Not dressed? Sam, what the fuck is going on?" He calls back out to them.
"David...I think she was raped.
Black.

Driving. Lights. Hospital. Yelling. Prodding. Poking. Asking.
Faces she doesn't know. Faces she can't remember.
"What's Your name?"
"Jenny. Jenny Carter."
"Jenny, can you please tell me what happened last night?"
She looks up at the policeman. he looks like him. The man. Dark brown hair, with deep blue eyes. Only he had a butt chin. A horrid, disgusting butt chin.
"Last night?" She can't think.
"Yes Jenny. What happened to you last night?"
She thinks hard. Harder then she's ever though before. And only small things come back.
"Last night, I-I went to a party. With Sam. Sam and David. I wanted to dance. But Sam wanted to stay with David. They were hooking up. I-I was dancing with a guy. He brought me drinks. Then I forget. Until it's to late and I can feel him, but I can't stop him. And then Sam. And then the nurses. And that's all." She is so scared. She doesn't want to be here anymore.
"Jenny. If you remember, last night you had a rape kit."
"A what?"
"It's a test that a lot of people get after they think they have been raped. Yours was brought to us this morning as positive for forced sex. Jenny, you WERE raped. Now we need to find out who did it."
Silence.

6 months later.
My name is Jenny Carter. When I was 17 years old I was raped by my best friends step dad. His name was Jimmy Dover. He drugged me at my best friend's party. In her house. He drugged me and took me to the woods. He raped me. He left me their for Sam to find. He left me there all alone.
My name is Jenny Carter. When I was 17 years old I had brown hair, I spent hours deciding what shirts were suitable to wear and how much makeup was needed. I went to parties with my best friend Sam.
"Jenny honey? Are you ready?" My mom asks from the doorway. My mom is my pillar of strength. Through all of this she has never stood down. She has always been there for me.
"I'm not sure mom. I'm scared." I reply, tears welling in my eyes.
"I know you are. But you are strong! And you can be help for a lot of girls who have also been through what you have!"
Okay. I have to.
I rise from the chair I sit in. Walking towards the doors into North High School's auditorium, step by step. Walking onto a stage where hundreds of students are watching me. People who are my age. People who could know me.
walk to the podium. Center stage.
Silence.
"Hello, My name is Jenny Carter. Some of you may know me. I am 17 years old, and last July I was raped."
Gasps. Silence.
"I was raped by my best friend's step dad. He left me in the woods after drugging me. My best friend found me."
Whispers.
"I was so afraid. I couldn't remember anything. Can you imagine walking up in the woods, with your best friend screaming at you? You can't understand a thing, it feels like you're under water. Then you start to feel cold and you sense that you're naked. So you go to cover yourself, but you feel heavy, and numb. And then it goes black again. And you're falling through memories. Until feelings pump through you again. Until someone tells you that you were raped. And that they don't know who did it.
Then things started coming back. Things like the cold. And the music. The smells in the air. Him pulling off my shirt. And then him inside of my pushing."
I stop here. Looking out at the students. They are no longer whispering, or turning on their seats. Everyone has their eyes locked on me. Just staring. I saw a couple girls crying. One looked pale and scared. She was a survivor.
"But within weeks D.N.A samples had gotten back and we knew who it was. It was the a great feeling to finally know who had violated me like that. Until I found out who it was. My best friend's step dad. The man who she said had touched her funny once when she was younger. I watched as not only mine, but my best friend's whole life fell apart too. Her and her mom got a restraining order for Him. And my friend, Sam, she had to know that the man her mother trusted had raped me.
For a long time I didn't want to think anymore. I didn't want t wake up every morning with a  stomach ache and tell myself that i HAD to get through the day. That I HAD to live through this pain. I was done.
So one night, when my parents were out to diner, i swallowed a bottle of Xanax. I felt better. I was sleepy and not scared of anything anymore. But I had misjudged when my parents came home. And then I could hear my mother screaming. Telling me to wake up. I got scared again, but this time I couldn't snap out of it and put on a happy face for her. I couldn't pull myself together because there was no me anymore.
Sometimes I still wish that I had died that night."
Now I stop talking and take in a deep, calming breath that soars down my lungs into my stomach. There is not a sound at all. Not a stir comes from the crowd. They all look straight at me, feeling sorry for me, scared of me.
"But I didn't. And I am glad. This fall I am going to college, I am going to be a writer, and I going to write this story so that no one ever has to feel alone again. Becuase you aren't." I take one last look at the silent crowd of students. Freshmen in the front row looking shy and timid, The sophmores wiggeling in their seats. Juniors, the age I was. And the seniors, the age I had never been allowed to attend.
As I stepped off the stage a loud roar of applause meet my back. A slow smile spread accross my lips. That's why I had to keep doing this. To make a difference. I know I did. Becuase later that day the same girl who had looked at me with big, soft eyes full of fear came up to me and said;
"Me too. Thanks." That was all. And she walked away. And for some reason I knew that she was going to be all right becuase of me. Becuase I told her that she was never going to be alone. We are never alone.


© Copyright 2011 R. L. Jacobson (lovelovemusic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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