Everything changed and nothing changed at the same time. Jed walked me around the school, we texted all night long, and on Saturdays we went to Grant’s house. I didn’t smile anymore, I didn’t have class friends anymore because I didn’t speak. 

I told no one what happened. In a sick way, I felt closer to Jed. Girls didn’t seem to be a threat anymore, because there was nothing they would give him that he wasn’t taking from me. It was ok that it was just the two of us and that I had no one else; I convinced myself I needed no one else. 

Our Saturday tradition of going to Grant’s house remained, but there was an added aspect. Every Saturday when we started watching a movie, Grant would leave the room, and the game of the floor is lava would begin all over again. 

I tried different pleas for him to stop and nothing worked.

The fourth time he pulled me onto the ground, I fought him. I couldn’t take it today. I was already miserable and my soul was shattered. 

“Stop. Not today. Can’t we just watch the movie?” I said as I extended my arms and pushed against him. I had learned not to grab at the chair, it was useless. However, I was only strong enough to push him off of me for a couple minutes. 

“You love me. This is what love is.” He repeated this line over and over again. 

“I do, but we don’t have to do this. Just STOP.” I almost screamed. 

Right as “STOP” escaped my mouth I felt his hand come across my face. It was quick and unexpected. He never hit me before. I was stunned. I wasn’t expecting it and it did it’s job. I shut up. 

Whatever power Jed had just received from hitting me, he liked. It was clear immediately that he liked it, his eyes shimmered with an evil tinkle that despite everything he had done I had never seen. It seemed as though that’s when he really recognized how much power he could have over me. 

This new event wasn’t ending, every time we watched a movie Grant would leave and Jed would pull me from the chair and rape me. Everytime I went numb and I would keep my eyes on the movie playing in front of us. 

The new physical control that Jed had over me escalated. Jed wanted me to look at him when he was between my legs and his hands were bruising my arms. He wanted me to look him in the eyes, and I refused. The one thing I seemed to be able to control was where I looked, until he changed that, he used one hand to grab a handful of my hair at the nape of my neck and pulled my head back so that my head was tilted backwards.

“Look at me.” He would hiss. 

I refused, not saying anything but continuing to stare at the movie playing in front of me. 

“Look at me.” He said sternly as he squeezed the hair in his hands tighter and pulled my head exactly where he wanted it. I had to look at him. 

I lost all control over my person. He would force himself on me and controlled everything, including where I was looking. 

I was a shell to him. Just a body, but he wanted me, and like he said every time we finished, it was a good thing he loved me because, “Who would want me now?”

One thought on “Dear This Isn’t What Love Is…

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