After the day in the material room and my panic attack the
word spread like a disease. Have you heard that Kaya is sleeping with one of
the teachers? Whore! Disgusting, right! I would never do such a thing, but that
explains her good grades.
They would never realize how much their words hurt me. They will never understand how I slowly died inside. Each word ripped another piece of my soul apart. No one was here to help me out of this hell. That one unfortunate situation could lead to all this. I was never the popular girl, with the fancy clothes and a lot of admires. I do have some nerdy friends. Or more had, even Julia doesn’t want to get to close anymore. The only thing I get out of them are stares and murmuring. I always tried my best to never disappoint people. I guess that's what I got from it. My mind and soul are falling apart. No one sees me, no one hears me. I am all alone.
Going to school got harder and harder, with each day passing. He got more aggressive, more possessive. What was once a few dirty words and a little touch around my hips and bum, was now a horsy moan with hands in my pants. Rough hands seeking something they should never want. I was screaming inside every time. But no one would ever hear me. Tears burning and soul dying.
The disgusting feeling of him, his words in my mind, his hands on my skin. The feeling of never getting rid of him, whether the number of showers I took. It was pure evil madness. My own personal hell on earth. I will never understand what I did to deserve this. But it had to be a big mistake I made a while ago. Something even more evil than Mr. Bakker actions. If that was possible.
The only way I got up in the morning was painkillers mixed with vodka. I know that people could smell that I was drinking. Their faces showed me that clearly every morning. But I didn’t care. The mixture made me feel relaxed, ready to face him. Nothing else could give me this confident.
The bell run for the last time today. As usually I grabbed my stuff and practically run out of the classroom. With a fast and steady pace, I would follow the mass of students going to the station, where I would wait for the next train to come and bring me home. It was a ten-minute ride. My muscles and bones always relaxed the further away I got from the school. I melted into the seat.
That’s when I felt the pain again. A sharp pain that couldn’t be ignored. Looking down I saw the trenched fabric. I bit my tongue to not let out a little screech. Last night I didn’t realize how fair I’ve gone. The wet feeling on my skin got worse the closer I got home. The voices around muted. And I kept staring at the small piece of art.
“Kaya?” I looked up; eyes wide open. I hectically covered the art before saying something.
“Yes?” My voice was shaking. Adrenaline crashing threw my brain. Wouldn’t I sit in a public pace I would give in and enjoy the feeling before it would leave me with the cold again. I smiled at the dean that gestured me to scoot over, so he could take the seat next to me. I did as tell and pressed myself against the window. He had easy access to my art, what scared but also made me excited in a way I couldn’t describe.
“Everything good? You look pale.” Brows furrowed and eyes filled with worries. His voice was soothing for my wrecked nerves. He was always nice to every student, even when they constantly messed up. He saw the good in everyone, even in Mr. Bakker. As he came closer, his jacked covered my art. What made me sight in relieve. The dean tiled his head at the noise I made. I still didn’t answer him. Something inside of me wanted him to know. To know everything Mr. Bakker did in the last few weeks. My eyes were following the bottom line of my shoes. I shook my head, but too late realized that I somehow answered his question with this gesture. I looked up again. His smile was a cure for everything bad in the world. The icy blue wasn’t scary but felt like home.
He laid his hand on my shoulder. A uncontrolled soft hiss left my mouth. His loving eyes were filled again with worries.
“Before the holidays I want to have you in my office. Is that alright?” Even though his phrasing sounded so close to Mr. Bakkers, it felt like worlds were in between. I nodded and gave him an excusing look. He got up and let me get of the train.
After the train left, I still stood at the station as it started pouring. I looked up towards the sky. It got dark earlier again, winter was approaching. I recited the conversation and became aware of his words. He wanted to see me tomorrow. In his office and talk about my more then dead state of mind.
With mixed feelings I made my way home. I felt like throwing up knowing that I could tell him everything and stop this torture. I would get my life back. Everyone would know what Mr. Bakker did. And that I never slept with him. That I worked for my grades. That it wasn’t me but him. Everything could be good, or normal again.
Already putting the words together, I wanted to say. I practiced the sentences all night and did not close my eyes. I would look dead in the morning that was for sure. But it would also mirror my mental health, what was good, I guess. After endless repetitions, the melatonin overdose of my sleep deprived brain took me out and left me in my only save space: My dreams.
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