First Cut

She woke up one morning and got out of bed. She began to dress and get ready for her morning run. The guy next door was waiting outside on his porch like he always did. “What a perv” she thought to herself, he watched her run every morning and had made comments to her before. She began running down the street, but after a while something felt different. Something felt off. She heard steps behind her keeping with her pace. Her heart started racing and she sped up, afraid to turn around. Suddenly she felt something hit her in the back of head. Once she came to she realized her neighbor was on top of her, and she screamed. “Shut up b****” he snarled. And put his hand over her mouth. She had been dragged down an alleyway.

*************

That had been three months ago, Gracie relived the terrifying experience over and over again. Every single day she thought about it, when a guy smiled at her on the street, when she thought about going for a run, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. And at night when she thought she would get some peace, she would have the same nightmare and wake up in a cold sweat, crying. Yet she hadn’t told anyone about it, she couldn’t. The guy was her neighbor, she had bought a gun, some pepper spray, and any other self-defense weapon she could find. Today she and her best friend Carrie were going to her first self-defense class together. But even Carrie didn’t know her true reason for going.

“This is going to be fun, I hope our instructor is cute” Carrie said, shaking Gracie from her thoughts.

“Yea…” Gracie managed a forced smile, she couldn’t even think about guys anymore, not the same way she had before.

“We should go get some fro-yo after,” Carrie was so gleeful and happy, Gracie was envious.

What would it be like to be normal again? She wondered. To not jump at every shadow after the sun went down? To not feel fearful or disgusted when a guy hit on her? Gracie had been such a normal and happy woman, she dated very few guys, but she was always up for meeting new people. That was before. Now she had stopped taking almost all calls from the guys she had been flirting with before it happened. She hadn’t given any of them a reason, she had just stopped answering the phone. The only people she could talk to were her parents and Carrie, and of course, her co-workers. She had an office job as an accountant, in a large accounting firm. She worked four days a week, and it wasn’t interesting enough to keep her mind off things.

Her and Carrie entered the small studio building and saw a small reception desk with various papers strung about. The small woman sitting behind the counter smiled and greeted them with her scripted professional greeting. They signed their names to the sign in sheet and followed her instructions down the hallway and into an open room, where several other women were waiting in their workout attire. The girls took a spot somewhere near the front of the room and laid out their workout mats. They stood there waiting awkwardly. Suddenly a door opened and a very fit man came out wearing a blue tank top and black gym shorts.

He clapped his hands together, “Hello everyone, welcome to self-defense class.”

A few women muttered their “hellos” back to him, as he took his spot in the front of the room.

“I’m glad you’re all here today, this class is not about being violent, it’s about preventing violence… so if you are here to train for beating someone up for revenge, please don’t waste my time.” He paused and then laughed, signaling that he was partially joking. No one laughed and he continued. “My name is Jake Jordan, please do not call me JJ… call me Jake, it sounds cooler,” he paused again for a laugh and a few women giggled out of courtesy.

Carrie leaned over to Gracie any whispered, “This guy is such a dork but he sure is hot.”

The room was silent for the moment and Gracie shot her an embarrassed look, it was unlikely that no one heard her. Jake looked at them and smiled. Gracie supposed if she still was able to be attracted to males, she would find him attractive. He had dark short hair that was sort of messy and gathered into spiked points on top of his head. He was tan and built like a kickboxer, toned but not too muscular. He had perfect teeth and a sweet smile, he was good looking, but Gracie wasn’t even close to being able to be attracted to a man yet.

Gracie gave him a serious look, trying to convey to him that she wasn’t the one that called him a dork, although he seemed to find it amusing. He continued to tell them more about himself and the purpose of self-defense. A lot of what he said was getting to her, he mentioned the probabilities of being attacked or raped, several times. Each time he said the words, she flinched. Her heart started to race, and she felt the air around her growing thick. She knew this feeling all too well, it was the beginning of a panic attack. She breathed in and out heavily and tried to block out what he was saying as she mentally counted to ten over and over. It was something she had taught herself to do over the past few months to calm herself down.

“Are you okay?” Carrie whispered to her.

“y-ea, I’m okay,” Gracie said breathlessly.

“Are you sure? You look sick” Carrie asked.

“I-I’m just tired, I didn’t sleep well and it’s just now catching up to me.” Gracie lied.

“Ladies? Is everything alright?” Jake half-shouted to them.

Gracie knew she looked like a deer in head lights and she was grateful when Carrie answered for them.

“Yep, we’re just talking in class… sorry teacher. Are we in trouble?” she asked him flirtatiously.

He chuckled, “it’s not that kind of class, but it will help you in the long run if you pay attention.”

“I’ll hang on your every word, Sir” Carrie said confidently. The rest of the class laughed.

Jake smiled and said, “Please do.”

Gracie was grateful that he was easy going, Carrie had been known to rub people the wrong way with her abrasive sense of humor. But part of her knew that Carrie had sensed her discomfort and was trying to draw all the attention onto herself.

After about an hour of learning techniques, and a few more near panic attacks, Gracie was worn out and ready to crawl into bed. But Carrie on the other hand, seemed energized by all the movement and the cute guy teaching them. Jake dismissed the class to leave, but asked Gracie to stay behind.

“I noticed you seemed to be struggling,” he told her.

She didn’t like being alone with a man at all, so she was fidgeting and watching Carrie in the doorway. “I’m fine, I just didn’t get much sleep last night,” she told him, it wasn’t a total lie.

“Are you sure? You know if someone has hurt you, it helps to talk about it.” Jake said gently. She didn’t know it was painted so clearly on her face. Everyone else seemed oblivious, but Jake was acting like she was wearing a sign that said “I was raped”. She couldn’t breathe for a moment and couldn’t say anything.

He sensed her distress and continued, “I’ve been around a lot of people who have been hurt, I don’t like to call them victims… but you don’t have to tell me anything, or anyone else, until you’re ready… if I’m right that is… I just wanted you to know that talking does help, here is my number if you ever want to talk… you know, sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know that well, because you don’t feel as much pressure to be exactly who you were before it happened and nothing else. Sometimes people don’t like to let us show them different sides of ourselves, because they are scared of the unknown… but some things change us and make us feel small, but we need to decide that we want to change for the better, because we can, there is hope no matter how bad it seems” He finished, handing her a card.

It had his name and number on it. She was shocked to hear some of her thoughts being spoken aloud, especially coming from someone that wasn’t herself. Hadn’t that been what she was scared of? That her family wouldn’t see her as her anymore, that the world would only see her as a “victim”. Or worse, that she had “asked for it”. She saw it all the time on the internet, people saying that the girls asked for it, because they were wearing tight clothing or something. Her jogging outfit that day had been tight and revealing. She didn’t know if she could make anyone understand, no one would ever ask for this. She always sided with the “victims” she read about but just in a passing opinion. Now it was real to her and she knew for sure now, there is no way anyone would want to go through this. Even the people on your side are going to pity you, and see you as weak and helpless, they’ll stop remembering you as the person you were before you were a “victim”. And even you don’t remember how to be the person you were before. It’s almost like losing your identity, there’s no way anyone would want this.

“So, you’ll call if you need anything,” Jake said, sounding concerned and shaking her from her thoughts.

“I-I might” she said quickly, “thanks for the lesson.” With that she quickly ran out to door to where Carrie was standing.

“What was that all about?” Carrie teased.

“Nothing… he just… uhh…” Gracie stammered and searched her brain for an answer.

“Oh my GOSH!” Carrie shouted grabbing the card from Gracie’s hand, “what is this? He gave you his number?!”

“Umm, well, yea I guess” Gracie said, she wasn’t exactly lying and letting Carrie think this was about dating was a lot easier than the whole truth.

“Get it girl, he is ca-ute” Carrie giggled.

“Didn’t you want to get fro-yo?” Gracie said, glancing nervously at Jake through the door. She hoped he hadn’t heard Carrie’s big mouth.

At the yogurt shop, Carrie was still trying to get Gracie to tell her all the details of her and Jake’s “private interaction” but to no avail. Gracie pretended to be too shy to talk about it. They ordered their treats and sat down at one of the cartoonish tables, which were scattered haphazardly around the dining area.

“Mmm, this is delicious… how many calories do you think we burned in that class?” Carrie joked.

“Probably about a spoonful of this,” Gracie said, smiling.

She was genuinely trying to be cheerful and happy again. But she felt uncomfortable with happiness now, like she was cheating life. She was miserable, and the past hadn’t changed, things weren’t fixed. So, she felt like staying miserable was the only option, and when she tried to escape that misery, it was like a prison guard in her mind told her “you’re not supposed to be happy” and brought her back down to the depths of her anguish.

“What’s wrong?” Carrie shook her from her depressing thoughts.

“Oh nothing, just dreading work tomorrow,” she lied.

She went home and avoided looking over at her neighbor’s house like she always did. He always seemed to have a lot of company because he was really well liked by the whole community.

This is the second story I was trying to write, I had high hopes for it years ago. I hadn't actually fully realized what had happened to me and dealt with it. Nor had I learned all that I know now about how to handle that. I would change a lot now writing about this topic but this will always be special for being my first attempt at getting the poison out.