The Shock of Power

This story may contain events that some find disturbing as it includes references to sexual abuse.

The summer after I graduated from college, I was twenty-two and it felt like I was already behind where I was supposed to be. Life started to weigh down on me, I knew I had accomplished a lot in four short years, but what had I become? It’s been almost two years since I was with anyone. I felt like a hermit who let opportunities pass her by. I was lonely and wanted to be more like my friends who had fun everywhere with anyone.

My first thought was to go to a bar and meet new people. But bars are crowded I hated how loud the music was. I hated that random men came up behind me and grabbed my waist without even making eye contact first. I tried to meet women but anytime we would kiss, creepy men took videos on their phones not even bothering to turn the flash off or be subtle about it.

My next thought was to try dating apps but, in fear of being murdered, I decided against it. An old friend from high school, Tori Manu, came home that summer. We kept a distant friendship throughout college. My friend and I had been separated for the last four years. His mom abandoned him when mine abandoned me and we felt that pain together. It felt like he could ease my loneliness as he had eased my pain back then.

I met up with Tori Manu when my best friend went on vacation. I thought maybe he would buy prosecco and dance the night away with me. I was wrong.

At first, Tori was quiet. I have no qualms with men who don't talk over me. I thought he was shy. We haven’t seen each other in years. He seemed different, I noticed he was a lot more fit.

“I have a regular workout schedule.” He told me. The first time he saw me I thought he surveyed my body the way airport security searched for weapons. “It looks like you do too, you look amazing.” He said while he hugged me.

The first night we hung out, he packed me a bowl and we smoked from his bong. His bedside table was littered with ashes and canisters. He had two grinders and a green pipe. Blue-shaded sunglasses laid in a pile of candy wrappers. His table had a small yellow lamp that looked like it was thirty years old. His place had boxes everywhere, he had trash bags laying in the hallway, the kitchen, and the corner of his room. His bed was only half made with his mattress fully exposed in some areas. His bookcase was full of college textbooks and four different bongs of different sizes. The top two shelves had classic novels that we had talked about. The Great Gatsby, The Alchemist, Moby Dick, Catch 22, Song of Solomon, and Gone with the Wind sat in a row amongst other titles I failed to recognize and some I didn’t know he owned. “You’ve read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings?” I asked him while I took it down from the shelf. That book had a piece of my heart in it.

“No, it was a gift from a girl I used to date, I’ve been meaning to get around to it.” He told me as he walked over to the bookcase. On one of the shelves, he had a bookend that was a statue of a small brown bull that was pushing a flat piece of wood against the books. “My mom got me it.” He mumbled. He noticed I had stared at it and I notice how sad he seemed; I didn’t push him further.

“I can take your bag, if you want.” He told me. His hand was extended my way. I carried mase and a knife with me for safety and usually don’t let my bag out of my sight, but I gave him it anyway and he set it on the bottom shelf of his bookcase.

He told me about his internships and stories from the university he attended. “One time at this party and someone shot a gun.” He said. His eyes bulged at the excitement of his own memories. “Holy shit, was everyone okay?” I was terrified of the thought. “Well, it ended up only being a flare gun, but this guy accidentally shot his friend in the neck, he had to get surgery, they took all of his pec muscles and put them in his neck to save his life. His friend changed his life.” He shrugged at the end of his story. “Some friend,” I said while I grabbed his pipe. “Yeah, I would be pissed if I was that guy.” He agreed.

The next day I saw Tori again. He added a candle to his mess of a bedstand and it smelled like oak trees and mold. When we sat down, he packed a bowl for us and I welcomed the sweet sensation of calm euphoria. After we finished, the room was hazy to me. I was dizzy and the room spun. I texted one of my friends his address in case I needed a ride home. "Do you want to watch something?" He asked me. "Sure," I mumbled through my delayed reflexes. I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on anything. Before I understood what happened, he got on top of me and pushed my shoulders down onto the bed.

“Tori, what are you doing?” I managed to get out. I tried to lift my head and sit up. He ran his fingers around the side of my face and brushed my hair behind my ear. He grabbed a hand full of my hair and gently pulled my head back. “C’mon I know you want to.” He whispered while he kissed my neck.

He unbuttoned my shirt and took my pants off. His hand went in between my thighs and he pushed himself inside of me. A whimper came out of me as I felt pain, he mistook it for pleasure. The ceiling spun and the nightmare begun. I quietly said, "Stop." He pulled himself out of me. Relieved I sat up, and he turned my shoulder over. His hands gripped my hips and he pushed them forward causing me to fall. I landed on my hands and knees. He was behind me and he grabbed my left shoulder, then he pushed himself inside me again. I screamed, "Stop!"

He paused for a moment, leaving himself in me. "We can go slower." He whispered. I felt his breath on the back of my neck. There was the smallest crack in the white wall in front of me. This isn't real, this isn't true. I made a quick look at my bag laying three feet away. I couldn’t even consider hurting my friend. After he finished, I sat on the bed unable to move. I didn't understand. My friend wasn’t the person I knew.

He looked at me and smiled. His quietness used to be refreshing and now I understood it as a language of threats I haven't learned yet. I stared at that bull bookend on his shelf for the entire time after. He spoke to me but everything he said was carbon dioxide in the air around me. He poisoned me. It took me thirty minutes to build up the courage to leave.

Tori called me six times since the last time I saw him. I was his new toy, and he loved to control it.

I started to wonder if the bull on his bookshelf meant more to him, something he viewed as strength. I thought him wise for the past few years of our distant friendship. He spoke with ease and confidence, perhaps that was the gift given to many men. He told me of how he studied Moby Dick, and he read Gone with the Wind. We loved so many of the same things, I thought we had the same mind. I realized that even in liking the same things, we liked them for different reasons and I had nothing in common with that Tori Manu.

Where I strived to figure out peace and love, he searched to be validated through power. No longer the strong man I used to see him as, he became the animal that man needed to destroy. Both paths were inside him, and he decided who won that battle. I understood the terror in vulnerability. But in vulnerability, there is power.

Two days after that horrible night, I called Tori, he welcomed me over. He opened the door and it felt like I was lead down the river Styx. His trashed hallway reeked of the death of my ego and I wondered if the scent was of his desperation or my fear. We went into his room and the sunglasses on his nightstand had been cleaned and the candy wrappers were gone. I put them on and saw his room in a cool blue shade that made it feel like I was underwater. My breath was sharp, so the idea of drowning here didn't seem too far off. He grabbed my waist and pulled me into him. I looked at my feet to hide my grimace.

He hummed a melody that sounded like a threat as he swayed back and forth. My blood turned ice cold and I wondered what he would do next. When his hands reach my arm, his grip was intense. His fingernails were sharp. I thought I got myself into these incidents. I found men who want nothing but power. They front like its love they searched for. They act as though passion is behind the menacing faces, they presented. They act as if their coldness was because of past relationships. As if they couldn’t hear me when I yelled no. They acted like the bull, proud and angry.

Tori’s face was slim and his jaw protruded from his neck. He truly was tall, dark, and handsome. He used his looks to lure the deer in before he murdered it. He stole its life force; he made it regret ever living to begin with.

When he went in to kiss me, I asked him, "Are you insecure because she left? Or are you evil because she was there at all?” I asked him. I stared at his eyes which looked like black holes. My bag was on my shoulder and my hand reached inside as I felt around the contents.

His eyebrows furrowed and he looked angry and amused. He stumbled through his words, "What- I don't-?" He said with a half chuckle and a smirk on the right side of his lips.

“Do you mind if I stab you?” I added. I shocked myself. He dropped his smirk and my eyebrow raised. “What the fuck? No. Are you joking?” He backed up, he looked pissed. His eyes caught sight of my hand in my bag.

My hand gripped something and a can came out and I sprayed him. He screamed and swung in the air. I was too far out of his reach. He crumpled to the ground and I saw him through the blue shades. My own eyes began to whimper. I didn't release that button for six seconds. I left him there on the floor.

I stumbled onto his porch and I heard him from his room “You dumb bitch!” My body knew before my mind did. I was in shock. My tears clung to my cheeks. I screamed and cried. He took something from me, something I would never get back. He murdered a part of me that existed in my past, but I would never let my future be touched by him. I was different now, and I might’ve even stabbed him if he hadn’t said no. That was the last time I ever spoke to Tori Manu.