“My mom?She doesn't take any medication,” I protested, convinced of my truth.
“Oh, but she does, and it has her name on it,” Andrea said.
“You took a pill to calm your nerves for the photoshoot, and it worked, didn't it?Your mom noticed how much more at ease you were with the music.”
“She won't believe you.You'll go to jail for this,” I retorted.
“Well, she might believe me.And just think about how upset she'd be if people discovered that her daughter was a… well, you know, easy.It would crush her.People love to gossip, and trust me, they would talk about this for a long time.I grew up here; I know everyone, and that I'd never harm a fly.But you?You're dating a guy who has been charged with assault not once, but twice.You climbed out of your friend's window to run off to Rome with your boyfriend.What do you think people would assume you were doing all night?Just holding hands?People saw you with that boy Marco last year; what do you think they thought you were up to?”Andrea’s tone was disturbingly casual, as if he were merely explaining my faults rather than threatening me.I stared at him, the weight of his words shaking my confidence.How did he know about Rome?“It's okay.It happened once, and it won't happen again.No one has to know; no one will gossip.You and your boyfriend can leave this place behind and start fresh.Imagine if he finds out about this—what then?”He paused, letting his words sink in.“If he believes me, you two are done for.If he believes you, he might do something reckless that will land him in jail.So what's your choice?You lose him either way.”
What would I do for love?What sacrifices would I make?
Andrea drove me home; my body felt heavy and weak, flashes of him on top of me, the noises, his curses, and then thedarkness.I was still grappling with the shock of it all.Neither of us spoke during the drive.
I stumbled out of the car and dragged my feet toward the house, the night air thick with tension.Andrea had called my mom to cover for me, saying I'd be late going through photos.
When I walked into the dimly lit house, the situation escalated rapidly.My mom flipped the lights on and slapped me so hard that I nearly fell.My cheek burned as if it had been seared by an iron.
“How could you do this to me?”Her eyes were red, a mix of anger, disappointment, and sorrow.“How could you lie to me and run off to Rome to do what?Sleep with that criminal?What is happening to you?”She slapped me again, harder this time.My dad stood behind her, an expression of disgust on his face as he looked at me, the daughter he barely recognized.
Again, what was my crime?Falling in love and wanting to be with someone?Was this my punishment for it?
I felt utterly defeated, watching everything crumble around me.All I wanted was to escape, to run until my feet bled.I hadn't chosen this path—or maybe I had when I decided to be with Zane.
If I told my mom what Andrea had done to me, would she even believe me?She retreated to her room, tears streaming down her face.My dad remained silent, his disappointment palpable.He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sank into the couch, staring blankly at the dark television screen.I went to my room.
After a long, painful day, I took a shower, slipped into my pajamas, and sat down to write.With my diary open before me, I poured out everything that had happened and shared every emotion and thought that weighed on my mind.
I felt lost and unsure of whom to turn to for advice.If only I could reach out to my future self for guidance, I thought.Surely she would have the answers I needed.
I wrote, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me, releasing some pent-up tension.But then, reality crashed down on me again, like a freight train.I spiraled into hysteria, with salty rivers of sorrow streaming down my face.No one checked in on me during that chaotic moment.
I struggled to articulate the madness swirling within me—one moment I was laughing, the next I was crying, lost in my own thoughts for hours, staring at a single point, or writing until my fingers hurt.
The emotional weight pressed heavily on my chest, making it feel as if it might shatter.My head throbbed with unbearable pressure, and suddenly, I felt the warm trickle of blood from my nose.
The following day, I didn't go to school.I didn't meet Zane; I didn't respond to his calls or texts.I didn't eat or shower; instead, I remained in bed, fixated on the ceiling, alternating between sleep and tears.The cycle continued—stare, sleep, cry.
The following morning, my mom entered my room.
“Get up, you're late for school,” she instructed before leaving.I stayed motionless.After ten minutes, she stormed back in, raising her voice.Thoughts of pills crossed my mind, wondering when she had started taking them and why.The loudness of her voice was unlike anything I had experienced before.“I said, get up!”she shouted, grabbing my arm with frustration.It felt as if she was attempting to lift just a soulless shell, and I crumpled to the floor.Her eyes widened at my limpness.“This is too much.You're overreacting,” she remarked.
I met her gaze, deep and penetrating, and for a moment, she froze.If only she knew what I was carrying inside.I could tell her everything right then.I pictured her reaction—would she offer comfort?Would she apologize?But the words remained stuck in my throat, and my stare unnerved her enough that she left the room.I spent another day alone, rejecting food that my body didn't crave.
On the third day, my dad tried to talk to me, but when I ignored him, he raised his voice, and soon both of them were yelling.
By the fourth day, I couldn't bear to listen anymore, so I decided to go to school—or so they thought.Instead, I got off the bus a few stops early and sat on a bench for six hours.I didn't attend school or go to work anymore.
I heard Zane coming to my house a few times, but my parents sent him away.I could hear him calling my name, and it shattered my soul, making every inch of my being ache.I couldn't face him; I couldn't bear to keep such a heavy secret.Or maybe not yet; I just needed time.
Then the school called, which led to more yelling and more threats.From that point on, my dad drove me to school, waiting until I stepped inside.Zane found me and desperately sought to uncover what was wrong.I remained silent, unable to meet his eyes, fearing that if I did, I would break into pieces.
Days turned into a week, then another.Zane continued to speak to me, visiting my house every day, in vain.Each day felt like a repetition of the last.I convinced myself that solitude was what I needed to navigate my way through this pain.Just a little more time—that's all I thought I required.
My body felt frail; I had shed several pounds and hadn't eaten for days.When I attempted to eat, my body rejected it.Just that morning, I found myself throwing up in the school bathroom as soon as I arrived.
Emily kept looking at me in silence, fully aware of everything except what happened with Andrea.I had no energy or will to talk to anyone; I couldn't focus on class or tackle my homework.All I wanted was to fade away.It was overwhelming.
Jessica was also facing consequences because of me; her parents had grounded her as a result of my actions.It was all my fault.
