“Take them off.” It had been an order, and not a request.
“Everything?” she asked, incredulously.
He nodded his head, his lips curving upwards into a smile.
She complied. She hadn’t known how many girls he had done this with, or how many more he planned on doing this with. She had thought of herself as special. She hadn’t known she was just another girl.
And so, they continued. Or rather, he continued. He pulled her body closer and placed his lips upon hers. Then on her chest. They got lower and lower as time went on.
It wasn’t long before their bodies had become intertwined in ecstasy, with each coming up for only quick gasps of air.
It had been fun. Exciting. New. But things had escalated quickly. Too quickly for her.
Soon, she had become his play toy. His ragdoll. But he hadn’t been that brave, at first. He made sure she had been facing the other way, then slipped quietly into her. She was too caught up in her own world to realize. But he had decided this wasn’t enough. He threw her on the bed, onto her knees, and took what he wanted from her. He took and took and took and took. And she had given, unwillingly. Contorting her body into different positions, he took and took and took. A fire flooded into his eyes. He was hungry, and would not stop until his appetite was satisfied. But then, something strange happened.
“Do you want to stop?” He had sensed her uneasiness.
She nodded quickly. At least he had been merciful, she thought.
He let go of her, reluctantly.
It was in this moment that both of their worlds would change, forever.
In the weeks that followed, the two engaged in conversation, pretending to themselves and pretending to others that there had been something of substance between them. For there had been nothing but greed, nothing but cowardice, nothing but selfishness.
Soon, he grew tired of her. As a child grows tired of its toys. He had wanted more from her, had wanted his appetite to be satisfied, again. But she wasn’t willing to give anymore. He had already taken enough from her. Her innocence, her dignity, her body.
The conversation grew scarce. He stopped calling her, and texted her only a few times a week. When she had wanted to be in his presence, he had had other obligations. She waited for things to change. Like an injured sparrow, awaiting its mother’s return, she had longed for him to come to his senses. She didn’t want to believe that he was really that evil, or that selfish, or that greedy.
But he was.
She had realized that too late. It was over. Their final conversation was one of great pain, for her. She stammered, desperately trying to overpower her tears, but they had won. She had told herself many times before that she would never cry over a boy, but she had. She had told herself that she would never let a boy take advantage of her, but she had. She was just another girl to him.
She confronted him about that night. The night that everything had changed. But he had been too cowardly to face it. He struggled to put the blame on her. He told her that it had been her fault for coming into his room that night. He told her that she had enjoyed it.
She asked him why. Like she had been for the past several months. She asked him why. She asked him why he had felt so bold. Why he hadn’t waited. Why he had taken advantage of her. But that was something he couldn’t answer. He was still in denial. She listened as he sobbed, for a few brief seconds. But she wondered why he was crying. Was it because he realized he had been caught in his game? Was it because he refused to believe he had done such a thing? Or was it because he realized he could never give back what he had taken from her?
She didn’t know. She would never know. All she knew was that she would never let another take from her what they could not give back.