9 December 2012
The music was loud; the bass made the floor quake. There was little to no lighting and everyone seemed to be on some drug or drinking some alcoholic beverage. I pushed my way through the crowd, searching for Jacoby, my boyfriend. I didn't see his noticeable flame colored fauxhawk. Finally, I found myself in the front room, the massive stairs looming in front of me. More party goers danced and talked on the steps. I turned around and pulled out my phone. I would just have to text him. Suddenly, rough hands grabbed my forearms from behind. I turned to yell at Jacoby but met the tired eyes of someone I didn't recognize. He muttered something garbled and pulled me halfway up the stairs. His breath reeked of booze and his grip on my arms was tight. I struggled and the girls around us giggled and waved. Too drunk to realize I didn't need a wave, I needed help. He pulled me up those final steps and down the hall. I called to a couple down the hall. She looked up as he moved to suck on her neck. I pleaded for help and stopped once I saw her eyes. With a glazed over look she called back "it only hurts the first time sweetheart! I'm sure he'll be gentle though." I cried out as she resumed her make out session and I was thrown into a room. I fell onto the floor and with one swift motion he shut the door. I scurried backwards as he advanced. No avail. I hit the wall. He grabbed me by my thigh and sloppily kissed me. I bit him. He laughed and pulled me onto the bed. I screamed and kicked and clawed only to be pinned down. His sloppy kisses coated my face and neck in slobber. I struggled and tried to call out for help. He worked his way down and I began to cry. No one in this damn house understood what was going on. No one would help me. Jacoby was god knows where and I was left to fend for myself. I hear my captor cry out and I look up, my eyes still pouring streams of tears and eye makeup. The guy from the hall is standing over my now sleeping captor. His girlfriend is standing behind him, her eyes clearer but still only half there. "Sweetheart, if he's not your boyfriend then don't let him drool on your face....or your boobs." She came over and wiped my face while her friend shoved the drunk fool off the bed. He grunted and resumed snoring. I shuddered and she patted my leg. "Go home and get some rest, sweetheart." I nod numbly and she helps me up. Her friend pats my shoulder and I give him an appreciative smile. I straighten out my clothes as I walk down the hall. Push my way through the drunk girls on the stairs. Rush out the front door into the cool night air. I inhale deeply and call my friend Rene who lives in the same neighborhood. She takes me back to my apartment, no questions asked. Instead she hugs me and says in her little southern accent "you'll be ok." I hug her tighter before going up. Still letting the situation sink in, I unlock the door. Go to my room. Undress. Don't bother to find pajamas. Pull on a button up shirt I see on the bed. Curl up. Stare at the wall in defeat.
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I unlock the door to the apartment I share with my girlfriend, Sage. She disappeared from the party we were at and I heard from some guys smoking up front she left. I walk in and go to our bedroom. Clothes are strewn on the floor. I see her small body under the sheets and her curly, lavender hair peeking from under the comforter. I drop my keys and my wallet onto the bedside table and crawl over to her. "Hey there." I whisper and gently kiss her forehead. She flinches. I sit back, puzzled. "Baby..." I place my hand on her forearm and she whimpers. Even more puzzled, I gently peel back the comforter. Ugly purple and black bruises cling to her forearms. I stare in horror. Then, my anger swells. "Who did this to you?" She shudders and I soften my tone, pulling her as gently as I can into my lap. "Baby who did it? What happened?" She burrows into my chest and sobs. "I don't know." "You don't...know?" She nods numbly and resumes burrowing against me. I stroke her arms and she turns to watch me. Then, she grabs my hand. Twists it. And each finger matches the placement of a bruise. On both arms. She releases my arm and tucks herself into my lap. I stare at my hand letting it all sink in. I look back at her and study her closer. Two hickies on her neck, one on her chest. I pull the shirt she has on open. Five more lead to the waistline of her underwear. She hiccups and waits, eyeing me. I cup her face gently. "I'm so sorry." I whisper to her. She grasps my hands and I kiss her. I didn't know and I didn't stop it. I should have been able to though. She wraps her legs around my waist and hugs me, her face hidden in my chest. I rub her back and she looks up. Slowly, I place her back on the bed. Slowly, I kiss the bruises on her arms. Slowly, I kiss the trail the bastard left behind. Slowly, I look up for approval. She nods silently.
I will try to make it better. I will try to make you forget what happened. I will try to fix you.
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Many thank yous if you've read this fairly not cute story. I was listening to Coldplay's Fix You with a friend when the question of "what do you think he means by fix you" came up. My friend and I then hatched some pretty interesting ideas and the idea behind my story Fix You came around. I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you very much if you've read any of my other stories. I hope you'll stick around for the next one!
Fix You • Opuss № I