Stolen Innocence

Chapter Six

I had spent the few weeks, pretty much in my bed, my appetite had diminished and the thought of food made me feel sick. I had already done my first session with the therapist. Her name was Catherine, she was really nice, she even came to my house because I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house. I didn’t really want to talk about it just yet the ‘paddock party’ just yet, Catherine understood. I didn’t remember it all, but pieces would come to me in my dreams. Colin would be on top of me and I was able to stop him, everything was blurry and my eyes would fade back to black fog.

Catherine was so nice to me, she never tried to push me to talk. If I was silent, she would just ask me yes or no question. She told me I could talk whenever I ready, there was no hurry. The lack of appetite and depression I was feeling, were was most likely a side affect from the trauma of it.

I finally got a new phone number, and I rang Ella. She already knew parts of what had happened, Cole had been bragging; I knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Although he made out that it was consensual and I was drunk- the Liar!. Ella knew because Social media had blown up with ‘memes’ about me. Remember the photo of me Cole dragging me while I was drugged, unconscious, with my clothes undone and my hair a mess, well someone cropped it and it was made into a heap of pathetic jokes that were circulating the social media.

It was upsetting that people had made it into a joke. But obviously they didn’t know the truth, Cole would never admit the truth again. I was so happy I deactivated my accounts now. How embarrassing!

Ella cried when I told her what really happened, I cried too. I had been wanting so badly to call her, but at the same time I didn’t exactly want to talk about it. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I felt guilty that I had allowed Colin to suck me back in with his ‘I’m going to kill myself’ text message. It was all a ploy to get me back, and it worked. He was never going to kill himself, it was all bullshit.

“Are you going to go back to school?” Ella asked

“No, never. I’m starting home schooling in a few weeks. So that will be good. It will keep me busy” I said trying to make my life sound not boring or sad and pathetic.

“Wow Em, that’s a good idea. I’m glad your not giving up on school all together” Ella said, trying to sound optimistic for me.

“I better get going Ell, I’ve got another appointment, with my Counsellor.” I said, even though I didn’t. I just wasn’t really in the mood to talk.

“Oh okay Em, love you , take care. I’m hear if you ever need to talk” Ella said.

“Okay Bye” I said hanging up. I knew Ella would be there for me, and I knew I shouldn’t of lied. I didn’t have a appointment with the counsellor, I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

I couldn’t believe everyone was sharing pictures of me, and cracking jokes. I tried not to think about it-but it was hard. I was drugged and r***d and people were making it into a joke! I just felt lost, and deflated.

I would picture what I would do if I ever seen Colin again. Punching him in the face, kicking him in between his legs. Thinking of hurting him made me feel better. I hated him more then anything or anyone, and I wouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse if he died painfully, and unexpectedly. In fact I would probably smile, even though that sounded pretty s******c.

On the second visit with Catherine, she thought it would be a good idea to write a journal about how I felt, and vent. It was supposed to be therapeutic, she said writing it down might help with the healing. Catherine was nice enough to buy me a beautiful journal with butterflies on it, and she included a lovely gold pen that had butterflies engraved on it. It was nice of her to get them for me, they were beautiful.

That night after Catherine gave me the book and pen, I decided to try and write something, how I felt, why I was angry; something. I sat there for ages staring at a blank page. I wanted to write about how badly I wanted revenge, how badly I wanted him gone. But I couldn’t bring myself to actually put it on the paper. What if someone read it, they would think I was a mental case, and want to put me in a mental institution.

I couldn’t seem to write it, but in my brain, I began to rhyme about it. With in a few minutes I had written a poem,

I feel so dirty,

I can’t seem to get clean,

You stole my innocence,

You took it from me.

I look in the mirror,

And I hate what I see,

All that I feel,

Is the pain, you’ve caused me.

I was in love with you,

And you broke my heart,

You hurt me so bad,

That its tore me apart.

I feel like I’m lost,

I’m drowning in pain,

What you done,

Is driving me insane.

You may think you’ve won,

But its far from the end,

No matter how many times I fall,

I’ll keep getting back up again.

So goodbye to your memories,

And the pain you’ve caused me,

My life is not over;

One day I’ll feel free.

After I wrote it, I felt different. Like I was finally feelings a little normal again. I had never really been into poetry before, but those words just came together in my head. I was happy that I had managed to write something down, and I think Catherine would be happy with my first attempt at writing down my feelings, and how knows, maybe one day I could build up the courage to read it to her.