The rest of the car ride is quiet. No one says a word. How can anything be said? Mr. Hackly’s made it clear what he thinks of me, and I’m really not in a position to say anything to him. I should be grateful someone’s feeding me and caring for me. But if you call how Trent’s dad is treating me caring, then I suppose I really should look to move out.
And that’s what I’ll do, the moment I can.
By the time we get home, it’s nearly dusk. I go to my room, get my pajamas and go for a shower. When I get out, everyone is in the family room with the TV on, but it doesn’t seem like anyone is watching it. A wave of pure ice floats through the room, and suddenly I feel like a stranger. An unwanted guest as the six eyes stare at me. “Goodnight,” I say and quickly turn away.
I run to my room, close the door and cover myself under the blanket. This is my fortress, my safe place, where no one can touch me.
I lay awake and listen to the sounds. Muffled talking, Trent’s dad raises his voice, and Trent yells back. This continues for what feels like hours, but I look at the clock, and the angry red numbers tell me it’s been less than half an hour. I hear footsteps, and hold my breath. But the footsteps go upstairs. There’s louder talking, and now I know it’s only Trent and his dad left downstairs. Then no sound. No words, no footsteps, nothing.
I take a desperate breath and wait. I’m not sure what exactly I’m waiting for, but something’s bound to happen. I can feel it. There’s tension, and it all revolves around me.
Suddenly the door flings open, and I whimper as the door handle hits the wall.
“What did you do, Lily?” Trent angrily asks. “What the hell did you do?”
“Nothing! I didn’t do anything,” I plead. I’m not sure why I’m pleading. Maybe to make him believe me? I don’t know.
“Uncle John said you kissed him.”
“What? No!” I shout. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t do anything. He came into the bathroom and started feeling me up.”
“He said you told him you want to fuck him.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want to have sex. I certainly don’t want him. He scares me.”
“He told Dad you’d say that.”
“It’s true.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d believe me and I didn’t think it was right to tell you seeing as we were together with everyone else. I didn’t want to start trouble.”
“I don’t know what to believe, Lily.” Trent runs a hand through his hair and paces in my bedroom. “I just don’t fucking know.”
“He put his hand on my thigh, and that’s when I ran to the bathroom because it scared me. Then he was waiting for me outside the bathroom, and he pushed on the door as I opened it and he…” I stop talking, and downcast my eyes.
“That’s not what he said.”
“That’s how it happened. I’m sorry for not telling you, but…”
“There’s no damn ‘but’ in this equation. If you had told me what happened then, I’d believe you. But seeing as you’re telling me now after Uncle John told Dad, well now I’m fucking angry.”
The damn tears quickly form in my eyes, and I’m absolutely dumbfounded by his words. He doesn’t believe me. “Sorry,” I say as loudly as I can, but the tightness in my throat isn’t allowing the sound to come out in anything but strangled noises.
“Not good enough!” he yells and turns around to leave the room. Before he does, he puts his fist through the drywall, and I jump back at the raw explosion of anger. Trent leaves, slamming the door behind him.
I can hear his angry, heavy steps as he stomps upstairs. I lay awake, huddled beneath the warmth and security of my blanket, just listening to the dead night air.
The house is completely silent. Nothing can be heard, not a sound. It’s stark and cold, and completely isolated.
I turn to watch the blinking lights of the alarm clock beside the bed. I can’t say ‘my’ alarm clock or ‘my’ bed. This can all be ripped away from me in the blink of an eye. I’m under no illusion I even own the clothes I’m sleeping in. Everything was paid for by the Hackly’s. Everything. Every morsel of food, every thread. They own everything.
My eyes begin to drift shut as sleep slowly pulls me toward her. Maybe if I wake tomorrow, I’ll find this was just a bad dream. Maybe my life is just a bad dream. A constant nightmare I’m just waiting to wake up from.
The black of slumber has claimed me, and I’m finally dragged into oblivion.