"A friend of Mine"

Disclaimer: I am writing this passage from the third person experience, as I still have difficulty coping with the fact that I was raped. Please forgive me, my reader.

As she was lying on the bathroom floor, covered in stripes and blood, and praying for oblivion and death, she could not know that this was not the end of her. At that very moment, she lost everything: her soul, spirit, vulnerability, belief in love and happiness, and dreams. All that was gone, just like that “Pfff.” There was nothing left of her, nothing to give, nothing to take in.

Just the crushing emptiness... and maybe little glimpses of freedom that were no longer blocked by the fear of getting hurt.

Book 2.

Chapter One. "A friend of mine".

Time was still. Just like it was afraid to move to make things worse. My mind didn’t want to come back to my injured body. I couldn’t feel my fingers and toes. I couldn’t hear my heartbeat. I didn’t want to accept the fact that something so dirty and horrific had happened to me. Did I deserve this? One part of me felt that way. It punished me for all the wrong choices I made in my past. It punished me for naivety and stupidity. The other part of me was so damaged by the events that occurred that it was in complete shock and disbelief.

Life itself didn’t stop. The kids were still playing outside, the neighbors were barbequing, and the bus dropped students at the bus stop. It was a beautiful day. I could tell by the sunrays sneaking into the room. I lifted myself up off the bathroom floor and tried to do the first big gasp of air. It almost felt like it was the first breath I took when I was brought to this world. I had no thoughts at that point. I moved mechanically, almost like a robot or a doll who designed to do simple movements. My body was craving water and some warmth.

I moved slowly towards the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and went to lay down on the couch. I wrapped myself in all the blankets I could find around and fell asleep the second my head touched the pillow. Days, or maybe weeks, passed by. I only woke up for the necessities like water and bathroom use – the bare minimum just to keep my body alive. The rest was sleep, pure blank, and dreams-free sleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The worry started with an unanswered email, then hundreds of missed calls and voicemails. It isn’t funny how then our mind escalated to the worst-case scenario of what possibly could have happened. Bad things happen to people we care about. Which it sometimes does.

Lita felt that something was wrong with me.

I was her secret. Her secret good deed. She didn’t tell anybody that I lived in her one-bedroom apartment next to the green subway line. She knew that she would be in trouble for helping me, but she did it anyway. Her parents thought I was a bad influence that would keep Lita from her goals and studying journey. They thought I would be feeding off her kindness as a leech. More times than I could count, she was there for me. I didn’t deserve this person in my life. She was a true blessing, a real friend I could count on to bury a body if I needed to. Lita was a blessing in my life who cared deeply about my well-being.

Lita told her parents that she wanted to fly back earlier as she needed to be prepared for her class upfront. They agreed. She decided to change her tickets and fly back to Prague early to check on me. On her way home, she tried to call me again – no answer.

Thousands of intrusive thoughts went through Lita’s head. The moment she opened the cab door, the moment she got into the elevator, the moment she looked for her keys in the pocket. She didn’t know what to expect, but she wanted to see me at her place, safe and sound.

The first thing she noticed when she entered her apartment was the smell. You cannot confuse this smell with anything else. This smell is often found in abandoned houses, nursing homes, and orphanages - the smell of depression, misery, and being alone.

“Hey Di, are you here?” – she called out loudly.

“If you are dead, please don’t scare me” – Lita believed in ghosts and didn’t want to be haunted by one.

She finally saw me, crawled in (забившийся) to the corner of the couch, covered in blankets, like an injured and wild animal.

“Di, what happened with you? Are you okay?” – she touched my leg gently.

“Lita… what are you doing here? You supposed to be in Germany” – I thought, she wasn’t real, and it was my subconscious dreaming about my best friend being there with me.

“No, I came back home earlier because you didn’t answer any of my calls. I was worried about you. Did something happen at that job interview you told me about? You know you can tell me anything. I am here for you”.

Lita was my rock. Indeed, she was. No judgment, just support and active listening.

At first, I didn’t want to share this with her, as I didn’t want to go through remembering those gross details, but the words just started coming out of my mouth. I stopped at: “He locked the doors from inside and looked at me like a piece of meat.” I could not tell her more… I just could not.

There was no need. She could see my ‘battle’ marks and scratches. She understood the whole thing. She looked at me with her brown eyes and warm stare and said:

“My dear, bad things do happen in life; sometimes bad things happen to good people. It is not fair. You need to understand that what happened to you – is NOT your fault, and most importantly, it doesn’t define you as a person. You will get through this. You will become stronger, wiser, and happier than ever. I promise you this”.

I didn’t believe her, but I did feel a little bit better. It was nice to know that I wasn’t alone and could share my pain with somebody. We spent the rest of the day in silence. Lita ordered us some comfort food and put some silly YouTube videos. I remembered the saying that a true friend is the one you can be silent with, and that was precisely who Lita was for me. We didn’t have to talk to each other. Our hearts spoke to each other in a complete absence of words.