Leaving the barn was harder than I thought it would be. As eager as I was to get out of there, my body had other ideas. Every step was a struggle and a reinforcement that pain holds power, and right now, my brain was powerless. The only thought I could concentrate on was his face right before he slammed me to the ground among the refuse and detritus of some long lost party that I wasn’t invited to.
Maybe, that’s all I was them. Trash. Something to be used and discarded. There was one candle of hope still flickering in my traitorous brain. I thought of my parents and my friends and how they would feel if I died. I might be destroyed, but I wasn’t going to let what happened destroy them, too.
Silence was the answer. If I kept my mouth shut and pretended like nothing happened, no one had to know, and no one else had to suffer from the disease of disillusionment that I had contracted as he penetrated me over and over again forcing the beauty of life out of my soul.
The over-dried grass crunched under my feet as I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Walking is so much harder than I thought.
Numbness began to creep in, but I wasn’t going to allow it take over. If I can just get to the highway…
My stomach was turning flips and attempting to eat itself. I felt my gorge rise and forced it back down again. The only thing I wanted in that moment was to get to the highway. I was miles away from home, but the small victory of getting to the highway was rapidly escaping my reach.
My mind was a traitor, and my body was threatening to join the same movement. I would win this one, dammit.
Fuck him. He’s not going to win. I won’t die. I’ll get to the highway and get home. No one ever need know what happened in that cursed barn.
Fog was creeping across my vision. It was grainy and colorless. All I could see now was the landscape in browns. Oh shit. I’m going to pass out.
I felt my knees give and collapsed against the dry grass. The last thing I heard was the crunch of my head hitting ground.