Visdare 38: Chase

Drifting through the hands of the heavens I drew closer and closer to the end. My preconception of darkness and pain quickly erased by the light that ushered me toward it.  Peaceful and calm, lonely yet safe I drift into the further. I no longer have to chase or rush around being part of a race that is human. For now the charade is over and I can remove my costume and dance the dance of the earth.  Why would anyone ever go back, I wish I was strong enough but I am edging toward the light.  Life was all about the chase, the fight but now I can take my back seat and sail on. Whoever said it was a tunnel? 

She

After failing the practical, she sat down and revisited the theory. Armed with determination and drive, she pursues her dream again stepping instead of leaping like she did before.  Thankful and amazed that she has come out the other side she keeps the pain of the first attempt close by to ensure she doesn’t follow the same pattern. For lest she forget the probability of survival is minimal. Drawing on strength she didn't know she had, tears saying more than her mouth could ever muster, loneliness consuming her social appetite and her perspective turning into darkness.  She mustn't go back there, she can’t go back there, she will do everything she possibly can not to go back there. Preparation, Organisation and Conversation.  If exercised the three components to her triumph if ignored the components of her downfall. She is enticing, exuberant and wild. Hasty, juvenile and benevolent. She is might just be me.

VisDare 34: Fearless

I think I am way too funny. 

‘Follow me and I’ll show you where the greenest grass is’ he said.  I should have never listened to that boy; he was always talking nonsense and going on about wolves. Mary is going to have a field day when she realises I’m gone, I follow her everywhere. And what on earth am I going to do when the people walk in? Maybe I should pretend to be the center piece, unless they're having lamb in which case my presence may become a little bit awkward.  Oh Dolly, how do you get yourself into these baaad situations? Sometimes I'm good and sometimes I'm bad, its like there are 2 of me. 

My World.

Living in a world where it’s better to be rich and guilty than poor and innocent. The historically oppressed whose ancestors fought for their social freedom, equality and right to normality catapulted back into an age of conspiratorial discrimination.  

Living in a world where the matters of the heart are dictated to us by those we, ironically, put in position to ensure our freedom of thought, expression and speech.  Love is Love and our hearts are ours to give to whomever we choose yet if we want to honour that bond we must ensure we have the politically correct type of love.

Living in a world where religion dictates peace and is the catalyst to death and destruction. As long as there has been any sort of God there has been killing in his name. Countries stained with the blood of the innocent who have paid the price in the name of divinity.

But then I also live in a world where the amazing courage of a select and noble few has enabled yolks to be broken and burdens lifted liberating people and propelling them into greatness.  Smiling in the face of segregation and ignoring the plea of ignorance.

I also live in a world where the institution doesn't stop people giving their hearts away freely, easily and unconditionally. Honouring the fundamental principles of the covenant more so than those granted with the privilege in the first place.

A world where, the world itself can take your happiness, your freedom, even your life but it can’t take away your faith. Faith so strong it would have the mother of a boy shot in cold blood offering nothing but forgiveness to the perpetrator.

The End.

__________________

Waking up with that feeling of confusion, fear and relief is a feeling that I have only felt once in my life. That Sunny September Sunday I woke with a hazed recollection of a disguised nightmare from the night before and a longing for the events of that dream to be fictitious.  A new start, a new season I was telling myself, stay positive and keep moving forward.  For me at that time everything was starting to get better.  Taking it upon myself to repeat my last year alone and carry on till the end with a perseverance I know was passed down to me from an expert. The sun rose on my face as I kicked the sheets away from my body I stopped and thought, and in an instance dismissed the dream I had like any other given day.  I rose, packed my bag and went downstairs to see mum. Walking down the stairs the sunlight from her room caught my eye and momentarily blinded me, still unable to see her face, I walked into the office which had no become and was to continue to be the sick ward of St Andrews. A morbid silence fell as I entered the room and faced her unnerving stare. She gazed at me as if I was her most prized possession. As if all of her life had lead up to this point, the moment of realization that I was ready. Ready for what you ask? I am still trying to figure that out. I always look back and wonder if she knew. Was that look a look of a finished woman. A woman who knew the sun was setting on her life?  I left feeling something wasn’t quite right, not with her but with me.

Then it happened, the world shook anger and hatred turned my heart to stone. I was no longer able to see the beauty as I once did. Now it was the pain, in everything I saw pain. Was she punished for my un-lawful, sinful acts? IS it really true that bad things happen to good people, or is it that Good people love the bad and that they end up being collateral damage?

I know it had to happen but I wish it didn't have to happen so soon. It sounds selfish to wish for more. More time, more love, more her. I just wasn’t prepared, I know she was but I wasn’t.  I know that heaven has gained my pain and I will continue to strive for perfection, but until I get there I’ll see you soon.

This Thing.

This thing will make you feel on top of the world, fill you with an emphatic, euphoric high you think is real. You suddenly question any doubts you had about fulfilment in life and wonder why you were ever down. The more you have the more of your soul you risk to lose. You don’t have to graft any more; you lose the idea of accomplishment.  You don’t have to do anything for yourself any more; you lose your common touch. You suddenly feel as if you are important and have a right to question norms and typical social behaviour because now you are a socially superior.  You are blind to the damage to your capital because your tool for destruction is only an 85.60 × 53.98 mm rectangle of smooth, slender polymer ready to be used. You can use it whenever, to obtain whatever and you can have it forever.

But then It stops, you fall and keep falling and are shocked because you didn't realise you were so high. You didn't realise it put you on the highest of pedestals and took away the ladder. All the old feelings of sadness and lack of drive begin to seep back into your brain warming the cockles of your heart putting you right back where you used to be. Your heart yearning for more wanting more like an addict you have to find more, but how? All you have is your, self respect, your morals, your faith and heart. Do you sell one of these to get back up there? Or do you remain content with what you have understanding that what you have to offer has more worth? You decide....

The Charade.

______________________

If I could be as happy as we once were time would be a luxury, not a friend of torture.  Knowing that the end was coming would haunt my dreams not bring me such comfort. Forever means nothing if you only live a day, if your heart only beats for a day if you only know love for a day. Piercing sounds of hate and the distant echoes of joy play round in my head making me so out of touch with what is going on in this world. You did that. If I run you will find me If I stay I will lose me. Little by little I fade into the darkness of this marriage, the toxic gases filling our four walls as we go on playing this charade. I have let you go in my heart; you can no longer hurt me with your iron fists or your words of anguish. I gave you my body, my heart, my kindness and love my freedom and yet you still want more. Will you only be happy when you have crippled my soul? I’m afraid I cannot stay to find out, I have a higher calling in this life than your glorified punch bag. I have life. A gift I must no longer take for granted. 

Free Gifts.

________________________

I needed someone to blame, I needed someone or something for my hatred to feed on. I couldn’t bare it in my body any more it was eating me up, a foreign body gaining strength as I got weaker. I had to let it out.

I knew she’d be alone you see, I’d been watching her. Every night she’d go home, kick off her shoes and throw a ready meal in the microwave. I watched as she glided across her apartment like a noble bird soaring the skies looking down on the weak and inadequate below. Who did she think she was? Did she think she was better than the rest of us?  How could she, when she went to bed every night with her hands drenched in the blood of a good man, an honest man who paid the price of love with his life.

That night I could see her sat in front of the television her long golden hair draped over the back of the chair flowing softly as she ran her hands through it. Getting in wasn’t hard, that stupid bitch’s door was always open, in more ways than one as I’m sure you know.  I was just going to scare her at first but then I saw she’d replaced the photo of where my brother’s picture hung, with a picture of herself in the nude, what a conceited whore. So I took my scarf from my neck and I strangled her. I held it tight, so valiantly, as she struggled. Kicking and screaming, sweat pouring from every orifice of her body I held it tighter and tighter, as her body began to shake, tighter and tighter, as she scratched and drew blood from my skin tighter and tighter until. Immobility, perfect silence and tranquillity, the balance of life had been restored.

Take that as my confession detective I am not afraid. You may think I have confused the lines between justice and revenge but I have not. Revenge is what I intended to acquire, justice was the free gift.

5/5: Selah

___________________________________

“The idea behind the conservation of energy is that energy cannot be created or destroyed, however, it can change form. Change is hard. Once a seed has been planted in us it feels like it’s near impossible to see or feel something different, but what if we could. What if were more advantageous than we ever even realised. What if we could nurture that seed and turn it into a beautiful sunflower. What if?

I woke up, the next day, for the first time in ages feeling free. Like my yolk had been broken and my mind was finally free to think what it wanted to not what it was been forced to. I sat up in my bed and looked over at Dylan asleep. He looked so beautiful and peaceful I wondered if he’d always looked that way and I just couldn’t see it because I was allowing my heart to slowly rot. I got out of bed made myself a cup of tea and sat in the garden.  The only thing troubling me that morning was him. But not in the way you would think, seeing him at the allotment had me completely bemused. I felt nothing, no anger or pain. I was finally free but I still couldn’t help thinking about it. Deep down I knew I needed to speak to him but not tell him I was angry, I wanted to let it go completely. Part me thought the reason I may have been mentally fixating on the situation was because I was curious as to how he felt. But why did I care?  I realised it wasn’t about caring it was about finding true peace. If I didn’t let go of everything completely I would never be able to stop thinking about it and as much as the dust had settled in terms of my grief, it would become my shadow on a sunny afternoon.

“Morning babe, how you feeling?” he said wiping the eye matter from his face. “I’m good, I feel so good in fact. Do you want some breakfast?” “Yeah sure”. As I stood over the stove scrambling his eggs I was searching my mind for the ways in which I could let go. I had no desire to see him; I didn't want to see him ever again. I didn't even want a conversation with him I just wanted him to know how I felt and where I was going from here. My mum always told me when you have something to say and you don’t know how write it down.  So that's what I did. I served up Dylan’s breakfast and went up to my room. 

I thought it would take me hours to write the letter. I thought that when it came to it I wouldn’t know what to say but it literally spilled out.  As soon as I wrote the goodbye I smiled and knew I was finally waking up from this nightmare.  The letter read as follows:

Mal,

I’m not going to sit here and tell you how low, worthless, disgusting, inferior, tarnished, disgraced, upset, devastated or ill you have made me feel because you probably already know. Judging by your face at the allotment you’ve been having just as bad a time as me. For a while I detested you, I despised your very existence and often envisioned you being slowly burned to death. However those feelings are gone now, I feel absolutely nothing. I think I would care more about killing an ant than if I ever saw your face again.

When I stupidly went to your house after it happened you tried to intimidate me, at the time I thought it was because you were a monster and you were just stamping your ever impeding foot of evil. But then I realised it was because you were scared, not of me or even if I was going to tell the police. You were scared of what you were capable of doing because I think you were just as shocked as I was. This letter is a line, a line under everything.

I've been struggling with the word forgiveness for months; if I forgive but hold on to those angry thoughts then it defeats the point because it would still get at me. Forgiveness should be all or nothing, if I forgive you I forget everything and I choose not to have you in my life. I’m not there yet, even though I don’t feel pain, the act still sickens me to my stomach. I’ve realised that forgiveness is not for you it’s for me, it’s where I can get to a point where the horrific events that have taken place no longer define me but  make me stronger, stronger in mind, stronger in spirit and in myself.   All I ask of you is that you do the same; you search yourself and find out that location of the darkness inside you not for my sake but for the sake of the girl who will see what I once saw in you.  I don’t want a reply to this letter; I just wanted you to know.

I hope I never see you again because it would mean you’ve listened and acted upon what I’ve said.

The only thing left now is

Goodbye.

As I closed and sealed the envelope I sealed away all my pain, heartbreak and tears. It was over, I was free and I could now give myself completely to Dylan, and what’s more I could finally start becoming the woman I wanted to be.

The End

4/5: Misericordia

_____________________________________

“Mercy said no.  That's why we’re all here. God gave up his only son to save a bunch of wasters and allow them to repent and have everlasting life. That's a big deal. If God can do that surely forgiveness is, by some degree, an adequate request. But what is it to forgive? Do we forget the past and continue on? Or do we forget the transgression but make the wrong doer give us an emotional affidavit that it shall never happen again consequently meaning it’s forever held in your heart? Forgiveness should be an absolute but sometimes it is hard when your heart has been ripped to pieces.”

Things with Dylan were great. Our relationship was like none I’d had before. It wasn’t purely physical and our conversations didn't consist of stories of when we were drunk and disorderly. It was scaring me how much of myself I allowed him to see. Usually I only showed people what I wanted them to see but Dylan was able to see through that defence mechanism and see me for what I was. His honesty was what I loved most about him. He told me everything when he was sad, when he was scared, when he was angry, he hid nothing from me. I could see through everything that he was still hurting so deeply about the death of his father. He told me things I’m sure he told no one else which made me feel special and what’s more it made what we had real. The only thing lingering over our relationship was that his honesty, as beautiful and profound as it was, only evoked a guilty emotion within me.  He had divulged everything to me about one of the darkest periods in his life. He had stripped himself bare and let himself be vulnerable with me whilst I held on to the biggest secret of all. Every now and then I would get so close to telling him, I could feel the words dancing on my tongue but I was always halted by the overpowering cloud of fear.  What if he thought I was damaged, or weak for not speaking out, what if he then just didn't want anything to do with me. What then?  Not knowing how he would respond to my ‘tell all’ was just as bad as the guilt I felt for not telling him. As we got closer and closer I knew the day was coming where I would have to tell him the truth.

As my eyes slowly opened I could see my phone flashing from the corner of my eye. It was Dylan. “ hey” I said with my croaky morning voice. “hey, sorry did I wake you up?”, “no, no its fine I need to be up anyway” I said trying to sound convincing knowing full well he knew I was lying. “hahah okay well I’ve got a surprise for you, meet me at the allotment at 12”.  Usually I didn't like surprises but with Dylan I felt like I was a different version of myself, a better one.

I arrived at the allotment early, as shocking as it was to me, eagerly anticipating what he had in store for me. It was such a beautiful day, such glorious sunshine to be out in.  Probably to do with the weather, the allotment was quite busy. The picturesque view was dotted with grandparents teaching their grand kids how to pick vegetables properly, couples soaking up the sunshine and... I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was him. Anger immediately consumed my whole body, anger that he had found me but furthermore that he had tarnished my one place of refuge and escape with his disgusting presence.  As soon as he saw me he froze. I could see the fear on his face as I’m sure the anger built on mine. He slowly backed down the hill turned around and walked away. I was surprised at the level of anger I felt. Up until this point the emotion that he evoked within me was sadness but now I was mad. As I stood staring in disbelief I didn't realise that Dylan was actually there and had set up a little picnic in between our two patches of allotment and was shouting my name to try and get my attention. Quickly realising I ran over to Dylan sat down and tried to control my breathing which had becoming very heavy. “What’s wrong” Dylan asked with a worried tone. I knew it was time to tell him. I knew it from the very moment I saw him sat down with the picnic but as I went to open my mouth nothing but a distraught stutter came out. As I looked at him I knew that as hard as this was going to be he deserved to know the truth. “There's something I have to tell you. Its honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do so please just let me speak, don’t interrupt me so I can get through it”, “ are you alright? Okay I won’t interrupt” he said as he got comfortable and listen intently. “ A while ago something happened to me, something awful that I thought I would never ever come back from. Because of it I was carrying around so much pain.  My heart literally felt saturated with the hurt it caused. Of course I had no reason to feel ashamed but I did. I felt like I was dirty and I was the one who should bear the shame when it should of been him. Because of this I told no one, I carried it around with me and hoped that one day the pain and hurt would just go away. I was still somewhat patiently waiting for that day and then I met you. I know it sounds really cringey but you literally made me feel better. You made me feel like myself again but what’s more a better version of” I realised in speaking I hadn’t exactly told him what had happened only the emotional repercussions of it however I knew he knew. It was written all over his face. “ what happend?” I took 3 deep breaths closed my eyes and released the truth from my lips; “I was raped”. In that split second I cannot describe the weight I felt lifted from my shoulders. I felt that even if Dylan was to get up and walk away I would have faced my demons and told the truth.

He sat there staring at me for a while with a blank expression on his face as if someone had told him that Father Christmas wasn’t real. I had never heard silence quite so loud and in those quiet moments waiting for him to reply I went over and over in my head all the different reactions he could have. He didn't look freaked out but he didn't look comfortable either. I had sewn the seed of doubt within my head and thought I had definitely lost him for good and that I should never have said anything. “I am so, so sorry I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this around for so long. You know this doesn’t change anything yeah? I still like you and I want to help you like you’ve helped me with the stuff about my dad”.  I couldn’t believe it.  So shocked by his response I burst into tears and jumped into his arms and lay there feeling so safe for the first time in months. After I was all cried out he asked me more questions about it but I could see it in his eye that he didn't want to pry in case I got upset again.  The one thing on my mind however was how surprised I had been. Not that he’d been so understanding, or even that I’d seen the bastard but that I wasn’t angry any more  In telling Dylan more was released than just the burden. I didn't hate him any more, I felt nothing.

3/5: D- Day

___________________________________

“Experiments have lead to the discovery of things that have enabled our world to keep turning, people to spend longer with their loved ones and people to know which road to take. Experiments however don’t always go according to plan; they often leave endless amounts of unavoidable collateral damage and often don’t produce the results intended. Although this damage can sometimes be catastrophic some might argue the damage is unavoidable. But does that justify the means?”

When he came he changed the game completely.  The idea of love or relationship hadn’t crossed my mind in months. I was so focused on getting better and trying to rebuild my life that I didn't want to confuse or damage myself anymore by trying to complicate things with another man.  But life in all its glory loves to throw you curve balls.

Dylan was sweet. He wasn't some romanticised real life version of those men in romantic comedies but he had a good heart.  After everything had happened I found some kind of peace by helping my granddad out in his allotment. It was quiet there, it was away from the hustle and bustle of life and I could really think about everything in my life and what I was going to do. Of course I wasn't the only person to realise the healing powers of the allotment. “ I see you here all the time”. That was the first thing he said to me.  And No I did not find it cute and qwerky and become instantly attracted to his weird charm, I ignored him. “I Know you heard me, ignoring people is quite rude you know” he said in a parental tone.  “yes and I've seen you”.  Instead of responding he held my stare with a increasingly annoying sarcastic smile then out of nowhere came...“ come for a drink with me later?”, “why would I do that, I don’t know you” I said quite abruptly. “Because I think you need me as much as I need you right now”. Those words hit me like a train on a track, my head pounding like I’d been bludgeoned by a baseball bat. Why did he think I needed him? Did he know? Was it written all over my face? Was I branded with a damaged goods symbol visible to everyone?  “Fine”. I blurted out unexpectedly, whether it was to shut him up or to Find out what it was exactly that he knew about me I don’t know, all I knew was that he had seen me like no else had in a while and I felt normal for 2 seconds.

Going out with Dylan turned out to be more therapeutic than I originally thought, we talked for hours and hours about everything, Music, Films, Politics it was amazing how much I told him. I hadn’t connected with anyone in this way for so long it felt odd.  I sat and listened to him talk about how he lost his dad when he was 16, my heart immediately thumping inside me. Of course to do with how tragic and awful it must have been for him but more so to do with the fact that it suddenly re entered my mind, my awful story, my past, my baggage. Was he only telling me this story to steal truth from my lips? As self centred and conceited and it sounds it was all I could think.  “ sorry I know it’s quite deep, there’s just something about you that made me spill my guts!” , “It’s fine” I replied nervously trying to sound reassuring. Why had this complete stranger showed me themselves with complete vulnerability? I couldn’t figure it out, but it suddenly made me feel like Dylan and I were one of the same.  Maybe I was being too uptight about the whole thing and that maybe emotionally I was more stable than I thought. Just because one thing had happened doesn’t mean it had to dictate the rest of my life. “right, I had better be off” I said quite abruptly. “ okay, well let me walk you home”, “  okay thanks” I said like a nervous school girl.  The walk home was peaceful we didn't say very much to one another but it didn't feel awkward it felt nice. As I walked up to the front door of my house I could feel his presence behind me, it didn't feel scary or claustrophobic that it was a man it felt right. Suddenly I thought here is a guy that is obviously attracted to me, I could find out once and for all if I could be with anyone else, if I could be intimate without having flashbacks to a darker time in my life. “ I had fun tonight, maybe I’ll catch you again at the allotment” he said starring quite intensely into my eyes. “I agree”.  I knew that this was my chance and so I leaned in and kissed him. He wasn’t as aggressive like the men I had been used to. His lips were soft and he held me close to him whilst stroking my hair. As he walked to the end of my drive way a very odd feeling came over me. I opened the door and sat on the bottom stair trying to get over what had happened. I didn't know if I liked it or was just relieved that I hadn’t freaked out. Either way I was extremely surprised and taken back by what had just happened.

As I lay in bed that night I felt so warm and relaxed. It was the best feeling I had felt in such a long time. I had something to look forward to as opposed to looking back. These feelings of happiness and excitement seemed like distant friends for so long and to be reunited with them was amazing. Was this it? Had I finally found myself again? Was I finally waking up from the nightmare that had become all to real?....

2/5: Dulce bellum inexpertis

__________________________________

“The idea of freedom is an absolute. Therefore I will never be emancipated from the guilt and pain I've endured until I have succeeded in acquiring the justice I deserve.  As I go on the lines between justice and revenge, fantasy and reality are merging into a grey that I am worried I will not be able to separate. I am not consumed by hatred because I know my heart still beats for those around me and I still want to love again, however, the priority of this event is being pushed into second place for my ever growing desire for freedom.”

For three days I sat there looking out of my window. It was almost as if I was waiting for something, waiting for someone or something to tell me what to do and where I was to go from here. Echoing voices and questions resounded in my head of whether I was to tell someone or just hope that he would never come back.  The gravity of what had happened was only resting on the surface and I knew deep down this was going to get worse before it got better.

I read this quote once ‘love is but the discovery of ours elves in others and the delight in the recognition’. There was no doubt that I loved him, I would have done anything for him. I gave him so much in terms of my time, my affection, my body there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. So If I was to love this man, a man that was capable of these horrific things I had seen a part of myself in him. That's what began to circle round and round in my head that I was like him. We shared the same fundamentals and at the time, I felt like, morals. I definitely didn't think he was capable of this so what was I capable of. If pushed what could I potentially do? Out of everything that had happened, the crime against my  womanhood and the violation of my sexuality the part of this horrific nightmare that would prove to haunt me was the idea that I was just like him.

About a week later I received a text message from him. When I saw his name pop up on my phone my heart started thumping against my chest. At this point the events that had taken place hadn't at all it was just a horrible nightmare that I was trying to forget. ‘After all that I left my stuff lol, let me know when is convenient to pick it up xxx’ I felt sick, not at the fact that it was him but at the fact he was pretending that all of this didn't happen. For a moment I felt real compassion, I thought he was trying to act like it didn't happen because he was so deeply sorry. All the questions and the name calling that had been circling around in my head was gone. Because of this I mindlessly said I would bring his stuff to him, not because I didn't want to be in my room but because I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. I think it was because I was subconsciously holding on to the idea that he was a good man, and if he was then I was too.

After a few days of awkwardly exchanging texts I went to his flat to drop of his stuff. On the bus to his flat, I couldn’t help but make excuses for him. In my head I was guessing what he would say and running through all the possible explanations he could have for his behaviour that night. However, none of them involved the obvious notion that he may have just acted out of hatred.

“yo”. That's what he said to me, after everything that had happened all he could say was ‘yo’. So taken back with his insulting disregard for what had happened I replied in the same way.  After an awkward exchange of a few slang greetings he asked me if I wanted a drink. I accepted and we went into his living room to talk. “How’s work and that?” he asked almost convincing me that he cared. I replied and told him that work was going really well and that I was enjoying it.  As I was speaking he was looking through the bag of stuff that he had left at my house. I was rambling on about all the old people that I worked with when shouted “where is it”. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about but I was getting scared, that head I had filled with anticipation for some sort of reconciliation between him and I was fading fast. I could see he was getting angrier and angrier each time he asked me, I told him that I didn't know where it was. He was looking for a lucky guitar pick that his father had given him when he was younger. My heart started to thud like it did before and I was feeling too many familiar emotions evoked by the events of the last time we were alone together. Just I was trying to catch my breath he grabbed me and pinned me up against the wall. All I could think was this is not happening right now. “you fucking stole it didn't you? you fucking bitch”.  There was a pause and a silence as we both tried desperately to catch our breath. “And about the other day you better not of told anyone or I swear to God I’ll fucking get you” I felt like I’d been hit by a bus, I wasn't even sure if my heart was still beating because I felt like I couldn't breathe. I pushed past him and ran for the door and kept running till I didn't recognise where I was.  I stood at the bus stopped staring into space in complete disbelief of what had happened. I had been fooled again. He had done what some would call unforgivable and I had despite everything still believed in him.

I woke up the next morning in a bit of daze. Still in complete disbelief about the events that had taken place over the last week or so. I was so hurt and confused about everything and all I wanted was for it all to go away. I had become very good at hiding how I felt and putting on a front to ensure no one would ever suspect anything different. So, I did what most human beings do when things get tough, I tried to forget and move on. I changed my number, blocked him on Facebook and lost contact with all of our mutual friends. As far as I was concerned I had deleted him from my life.

A few months passed and as far as I was concerned all that had taken place was a nightmare that took a little while to shake off. I was going out with friends and trying to enjoy my life again. Even though I kept up this charade, deep down I knew that this thing hadn't gone away. Guys had come onto the scene but I was still unable to even stand close to another man without breaking out in a cold sweat. It wasn't just effecting my emotions any more it was beginning to affect my life and everything in it, but then came Dylan....

1/5: R-Rated

                                                                                        

“For arguments sake let’s say they deserved it. It was a justified punishment for the crimes committed, crimes against the very foundations that this world was built upon and the innocent who inhabit it.‘The debt that all men pay’, A phrase that wouldn't let me go, a phrase that raises as many questions as it answers and a phrase that every person will face . After endless amounts of sleepless nights trying to find the answers or produce justified arguments to my opinions I realised then that all my questions would be answered in death.”

I thought I finally knew what love was all about when I met him. He was this majestic, benevolent man, the kind a you literally only ever dreamt about. He had long flowing blonde hair, eyes as beautiful as they were daunting and a charm that was truly bewitching. I was always such a defiant character, doing the opposite of what anyone told me, because it meant I was in control. Being with him was just another manifestation of that trait; he wasn't what my parents or friends would have wanted for me so he became all the more alluring. I was in love.  It’s only now that I can confess that I was caught up in an inevitably destructive fantasy that would end in tears.

At first my two closest friends rejected him they thought he was an egotistical, conceited prick. Which I can totally understand, he liked to give you his opinion on things whether you wanted it or not. As undesirable as that sounds, I admired that about him; that he stood up for what he believed in and wasn't afraid to share it. As time progressed however, they came around. I think once they realised how finally happy I was with him; they were willing to over look his faults.

We fought like any normal couple do, getting jealous over ex’s, him going out with his friends or me going out with mine the usual stupid shit that doesn't matter.  But in those arguments I noticed a temper, a callous, cantankerous attitude that you should not have toward you girlfriend, the one person who is meant to be on your side and love you unconditionally not indefinitely. The name calling is what go to me at first, he’d call me a slut or a bitch which doesn't sound that bad but coming from someone who I was in love with, the words stuck. By the end of the summer 2011 I just couldn't take it any more I didn't want be an emotional punch bag for a person who after a while stopped apologising. So I left him and it was hard because I still loved this guy, to me he was everything I wanted but so little of what I actually needed which, in my case, proved to be fateful.

It was late September; I remember so well because all the kids on my road were getting ready to go back to school. The sky was literally squeezing out the last drops of sunshine before the autumn came and after leaving him I felt like I had a sort of fresh start.

 Ever since the break up he’d been calling me non-stop  texting me apologising profusely thinking I would just go back to him but I didn't want to, above anything else I was certain of that.  So I just ignored him. That week it got more intense, facebook, texts, call after call; it was just too much so I gave in and said he should come round so we could talk.

I opened the door and he was stood there, eyes glazed over like his soul was missing, perched on my doorstep with a malicious smile I will never forget. I wonder now if he knew what was to happen.  We went into the sitting room and he sat down, I offered him a drink and he declined so I got straight to the point. “Right this is ridiculous, it’s over and you need to accept that, I cant be with you any more because I don’t want to be’. I wish now I had been more honest with him, I wish I had told exactly how I felt and what he was doing to me.  As still as anything, he just sat there watching me. I told him that I didn't want to play any more games I just wanted it all to stop. He still said nothing. We sat in sat in silence for what felt like forever. I feel that in that moment the universe was deciding my fate. ‘ I want to get my stuff from your room’ he then blurted out with an authoritative tone. “That’s fine I will go get all your stuff.” But he was having none of it; he pushed past me and ran up the stairs to my bedroom. After waiting a while I followed him in the fear that he was going to try and steal something or manifest his anger in some fucked up way involving vandalism.  I opened my bedroom door and he was lying on my bed with just his trousers on.  People ask me if I was alarmed at this point, my answer to this day is still no. When you love or have loved someone you feel like you know them and their limits, what was about to unfold I never would of imagined he was capable of. “come here, sit down. I just want you one last time and I will go, I promise”.  In all honesty I thought about it, I just wanted him to leave me alone. If being with him one last time would ensure that it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.  But my feet wouldn't move toward him, my body was repelling his very presence. “I don’t want to please just get your stuff and go”. Then he grabbed me and pinned me down. “what the fuck are you doing get off of me” I said in a bold but trembling voice.  But he wouldn't stop; he had me gripped so tightly I was struggling to breath.

‘Choose your love, Love your choice’.   Thomas S. Monson 

He picked up his t-shirt and gagged me with it so I was barely able to breathe. I remember everything going quiet; I looked him straight in the eye as if to say you don’t have to do this, you have a choice.  And I swear for a moment I saw remorse, the stare of a scared man. But as quickly as it came it went; I looked into his eyes and saw nothing. I said a littler prayer and begged God to make it quick, I thought this was it. I was about to pay my debt. in and out, in and out then stop. He grabbed his t-shirt and left. I sat there for what felt like hours contemplating the gravity of the exceptional events that had just took place. Had I been....