Little Sister

Louise stares at the mirror and struggles to look at the reflection staring back. Grabbing her dressing gown from the back of the door, she wraps it tightly around herself and sits back on the floor.

A knock at the door wakes her. For one instant there's no regret, everything's as it should be. Then, the events of the previous night rip through her mind. Sitting bolt upright she pulls the gown tighter around her, and with trembling hands, she checks the door to ensure it's still locked.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Clare calls through the door. "Are you ready?"

The muscles in Louise's body begin to relax as she hears Clare's voice, but she'd forgotten all about her normal Saturday morning yoga. Shit. She and Clare always go together but, today, she can't. She couldn't face the thought of seeing or talking to anyone. Not today, maybe not ever.

Clare tries the door, which, for the first time in five years was locked. "Louise, are you hiding another hotty in there? Lisa told me Mr hotness himself left in the middle of the night."

Louise's breath catches in her throat as her stomach begins to tighten, and the shame of the previous night colours her cheeks. Forcing herself to breathe she said, "No hotties in here. I just drank too much last night."

"Ok. Lisa and I are leaving now, you have the house to yourself. Do you want me to swing by the bakery on the way back? It will help with the hangover."

"Sure." The thought of food made her stomach flip. She wished the simple act of eating a blueberry muffin would make everything right. She couldn't help but wonder if Lisa hadn't stayed over last night, would she be on her way to yoga without a care in the world? Would her life still be the same as when she put her head on the pillow and fell asleep?

The light danced into the bedroom through her summer curtains and highlighted the pictures on the wall, normally a sight that brought her joy. Today, Louise can barely stand to look. She doesn't need to look, to know who would be gazing back at her. But she looks anyway and sees the pictures of her and Brian, of them both smiling, hugging, and laughing. She stands to take a closer look at the pictures she knows so well, but she doesn’t recognise either of those people anymore. They belonged in a different time and place. A tear streaked down her cheek, as she ran her fingers across the smiling face of her past.

Louise wanted to forget, but every time she closed her eyes the night replayed. Her mind was unable to tell the difference between memory and reality, causing pain and shame to flood through her, as she re-lived it on a loop. A little more of her died each time the memory played. The room began to close in on Louise, she struggled to stop herself from descending into the darkness. She began to search her mind for clues as to why it happened. Was it something that she did or said? Was it something that she didn't say? She can't work out how someone she trusted with her life could be the one to destroy it.

She met Brian three years ago, on the first of what would become the traditional Friday night after-work drinks. He was thirty-one, a few years older than Louise. He was kind, and she had to admit, attractive. They'd had one too many that first night and ended up kissing. It was fun at the time, but it later became a drunken decision they both regretted and laughed about in the following years.

He'd become a good friend. He lived on the other side of town and after a few months even began sleeping on her living-room sofa after nights out, as he hated the commute back late at night. Since their drunken kiss, she barely noticed his attractiveness, although the same couldn't be said for Clare, who referred to him regularly as Mr. Hotness. For Louise, their relationship had evolved into a platonic closeness that was more like having an older brother she liked. She told him this once, and thereafter he insisted on calling her 'little sister'.

The night before had started like every other Friday night, drinking with colleagues in the bar downstairs from their workplace. Brian had come to her rescue when some guy wouldn't take no for an answer. Louise had tried to move away as a much older man, wearing a suit that was a little too snug, continued to invade her space.

"I'm really not interested in another drink, thanks," said Louise.

"Oh, come on," the man slurred. "These younger men don't know how to treat a lady. Let me show you what it's like to be with a real man."

A hand landed on the older man's shoulder. "I do believe the lady said no." At six foot three, and muscular from years of playing rugby, Brian was intimidating when he wanted to be.

"I'm sorry," stammered the man. "I didn't realise she was taken."

Brian stared at him with no hint of a smile. "Well, now you do." He looked over to the barman and nodded, "Rob over there will call you a taxi. I suggest you get in it."

The man hurried away, without so much as a glance back.

Brian turned to Louise, a huge smile on his face. "You really do attract the best men."

"Tell me about it. Story of my life."

Their friends came back from the smoking area and after seeing the look on Louise's face, Jenny asked, "What did we miss?"

Shrugging her shoulders Louise said. "Just Brian coming to my rescue, yet again."

Jenny smiled and shook her head. "My round guys, who's in?" All hands went up.

A couple of hours later Louise was enjoying herself, but yoga meant an early start in the morning. As she hauled herself up to start saying goodbye, Brian asked "Can I stay at yours tonight?"

"Sure, I know you hate that commute." They said their goodnights, though the rest of their friends were too busy dancing and hollering to pay much attention.

It was only when they were off the train and walking up to her street that Louise remembered Clare's friend. "Crap, I forgot, the sofa bed is in use tonight."

Brian laughed and slung an arm around her shoulders. "All good, little sister. I'll just sleep in your bed if you're ok with that?"

"Sure, just don't snore, all right? I'm up early."

They got back to the house and quietly made their way through the living room, so as not to wake Lisa, Clare's guest. Louise grabbed her pyjamas and headed to the bathroom to change in private. When she returned, she found Brian with a smile on his face already comfortable in bed. She turned the light off by the door and crawled in beside him.

"Goodnight, Brian, remember no snoring!"

They both laughed.

"Goodnight, Louise."

Turning onto her stomach Louise soon drifted off.

At first, she wasn't sure what had woken her. She always slept heavily after a few glasses of wine, but even as she struggled to pull herself out of the fog, she knew something was wrong. Panic wrapped itself around her body, as the darkness began to spread within her. She couldn't breathe. The absence of light in the room prevented her from being able to see, but when she tried to move her body, she couldn't, something pressed her down into the mattress, a weight, a person's weight. Brian's weight.

"Brian. No. What are you doing? Stop. Please stop," she said.

His voice punctured the darkness, right above her ear. "We would be so good together."

The panic was overwhelming. She wanted to scream and fight but neither her mind nor body was doing what her mind was screaming for her to do. She was locked inside herself. She closed her eyes and tried to swallow her fear as the tears flowed, she forced the words to come out through the cascading silent tears. "Please, Brian, I'm begging you. Stop. This isn't what I want. We're friends." She felt his breath on her neck as he got closer.

Her tears seemed to stop him, more than her words. "I'm sorry, I thought this was what you wanted. I thought you wanted me too."

"Leave." She said.

Brian didn't hesitate, he climbed off the bed, put his clothes on and started to leave. When he got to the door, he looked back at her, he seemed like he had something to say, but said nothing and closed the door behind him.

Louise didn't recognise the man that left, unable to make sense of what had just happened. Still stuck in her own head she stared at the closed door and prayed that she would wake up from this nightmare. The sound of creaking floorboards broke the trance she was in. She scrambled from the bed and fumbled with the lock on the door until she heard it click into place. Falling to her knees, she pressed her ear up against the door. Trying to listen out for any sounds outside her door, but all she could hear was her own heavy breathing. She pulled her shaking knees up to her chest, suddenly aware that she was naked from the waist down and cursed herself for drinking so much. Louise wished she'd told him to go home.

Shortly after Clare left, Louise's phone beeped with an incoming message. She grabbed it and checked the message. Brian's name blinked across the screen. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what came over me, it must have been the drink. I'm so sorry, can we please forget about this? Can you please forgive me? We can sort this out, I know we can."

Re-reading the message, her knuckles began to turn white as her grip tightened. Louise felt the blood pump around her body, her heartbeat pounding inside her head. The phone started to feel heavy in her hands, she didn't want anything to do with him. She pulled her arm back and threw the phone against the wall. As the sun highlighted the pictures of her past, the fury rose within, and she tore them from the wall and hurled the frames on the floor. Her body that shivered unnoticed only a minute ago was now an inferno. As the memory of the previous night replayed in her head, she reached for the bin beside her desk and emptied the contents of her stomach into it. Her body was rejecting the message, rejecting the thought of ever forgiving him, of ever forgetting. We were friends, I was meant to be safe with you. I was asleep, I couldn't consent she thought. She wasn't sure how to quell the inferno rising within her, she went to the bed and ripped the sheets off. "It wasn't my fault" she screamed as each piece of bedding landed on the floor.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her normally immaculate hair was all over the place, her eyes were puffy, and lacked their usual sparkle. Even her skin had taken on a different tone, it looked like it had been drained of life. Not something that you think possible unless death occurred. There was a part of her that wished it had, that she was. That realisation made her reach for the bin again.

There was a tentative knock at the door. Clare was back from the yoga class. When there was no response, the knock became insistent "Louise, open the door. I heard you from downstairs, this is more than a hangover. Let me in. Please."

Unsteadily, Louise made her way to the door and unlocked it.

Clare had never seen Louise like this, she looked hollow. "Oh, Louise. Tell me what happened."

Louise barely held it together. As Clare opened her arms she stepped inside them and accepted her friend's offer of comfort and filled the room with the sound of pain. Once cried out Louise let herself be guided back to the bed, to be wrapped in a blanket and Clare's embrace once again. She could sense Clare taking in the room, and the evidence of her meltdown, the broken phone on the floor, the pile of sheets in the corner, the broken picture frames.

Finally, Louise speaks. "I need your phone."

Clare hands her the phone, no questions asked. Louise takes a deep slow breath, she knows that nothing can ever be the same again, that she can never be the same again. Her hands shake as she dials. She looks into Clare's eyes for the first time that morning as a woman's voice answers. Before the woman had a chance to finish what she was saying, Louise interrupted.

"I'd like to report a rape."