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As I slowly regained consciousness, a sense of detachment washed over me. The room was dimly lit, and there was a soft patter of footsteps outside. The air from the window was cool, the curtains dancing in the air. A small moment of relief flooded me as I felt the soft sheets pulled up over me.
That was before I realized they weren’t mine.
Then the panic set in.
My trembling hands struggled as I frantically pulled the thick blankets off my body—sweatpants and a shirt that wasn’t mine covered my body. Blood rushed to my ears, drowning out thesound of the street below the window behind me. The stark white walls of the room were oppressive and sterile, devoid of any personal touches. They closed in on me, suffocating me.
I scanned the rest of the room, taking in the small chest of drawers and the closed closet, but my gaze kept returning to the mirror hanging on the back of the door. The light pink frame wrapped around the reflective material. It was angled in a way I couldn’t see my own reflection, but the anticipation of what I might see made my skin crawl.
My feet landed on the shag carpet before I thought about it.
I floated toward the mirror, dragged to it by morbid curiosity. My muscles screamed in exhaustion as I moved—another reminder of what I didn’t want to remember.
I stared at myself in the mirror—my hair frizzy and my lips dry. As my gaze traveled down, I froze. My neck was a ghastly sight, purple and blue bruises covering the tanned flesh. I placed my shaking hand over it, that same pressure returning. The markings matched a hand much bigger than mine, and the memory of him choking me flashed in my mind.
My hand traced down my collarbone and finally landed on a bandage covering the top of my left breast. The thick dressing was heavy and uncomfortable, a constant reminder of the pain I endured. Peeling it away, a tear rolled down my cheek. The wound from the knife was still there, glistening from whatever ointment Carson had put on it last night.
Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision as I collapsed on the floor. My fingers scraped against the rough carpet as I scrambled away, pressing my spine into the cold wooden bedframe. My heart raced, and my throat tightened as I struggled to catch my breath. The sound of my sobs echoed in the small room, bouncing off the stupid white walls.
A small knock came at the door, so faint I thought I made it up.
“Audry, I’m coming in, okay?”
Carson opened the door, her black hair tied up with the curls waterfalling down.
Kai loitered behind her, trying to push his way in, but she shut the door on his face.
My gasps slowed to a halt, but the pressure didn’t fade. I tried my hardest to stifle my sobs and to breathe deeply, but the more I tried to appear composed—a talent I had practiced and perfected since I could remember—the more any semblance of composure slipped away from me. Saltiness shocked my tongue as tears rolled in from my lips. I clenched my fists, practicing all those tactics I developed as a child to shield my emotions.
“I have some medication for you,” she said, taking a seat on the floor next to me. She didn’t say anything about my tears, shaking hands, or why I was sitting on the floor. She passed me the small, plastic shot glass, a collection of different color pills inside.
I wiped away the tears still staining my face. “What are they for?” The tightness in my chest decreased with Carson next to me.
She licked her lips, debating her words. “I work with a nurse who helps women and girls who’ve gone through…” she paused, hesitating. “Who’ve been abused or assaulted.”
Assaulted.The word hung between us. That was who I was now: a statistic. A victim.
“The pills are for a few different things,” she said, her voice getting softer. “Emergency contraception. STIs…”
Her words faded as the anxiety rose up again. My hand immediately covered my stomach, and I wanted to shrink in size.
“She can see you today if you want?” Carson asked, her hand wrapped gently around my wrist.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to see anyone…”
“That’s okay. You can stay here for as long as you like.” She smiled kindly. “Besides, I’m sure Kai would be more comfortable with that anyway. He loves my couch.” She rolled her eyes.
“He stayed, like, through the night?” I asked.
“All night. I swear if I hadn’t forced him to move to the couch, he would be sleeping on the floor, guarding you like a little puppy dog.”
“Oh.” I blushed.
Embarrassment wasn’t a descriptor for what I was feeling. A swarm of bees had taken up residence in my stomach. My palms were slick with sweat. I was walking on eggshells, terrified of disturbing whatever kept me living. The pit in my stomach was swirling with darkness, with a small sense of light. It was a sense of safety hidden in the darkness, mixing with the demon thoughts of ‘why would he care?’
Carson motioned to the pills again, passing them my way with a cup of water. I swallowed each one before handing her back the small plastic glass.
“Is that all?” I asked.
