Page 69 of Nightmare

A laugh bubbles out of my throat as I turn to face the bimbo squad again, bending to pick up my gym bag, but it’s cut off by the voice of the one and only – Mr. Macintosh.

Fuuuuck.

“Miss. Jade! What in the world do you think you’re doing!”

My face scrunches up in annoyance as I toss my bag back over my shoulder before heading towards him, where he stands outside his office door at the end of the hallway.

I put a smile back on my face, waving for him to enter his office, “Let’s get this over with, Mr. Macintosh.”

I did a lot of internet searching after Brody raped me to try and figure out why I couldn’t cry after the night it happened. It was like I completely went numb, body and soul. My eyes were dry and my fists were clenched.

What I found was a lot of battered women, a lot of suicidal women, a lot of women trying to cope. Why didn’t I feel like them? Why didn’t I want to curl into a ball and cry? Whycouldn’tI?

Then I came across a different article. Traumatic events are just that, traumatic. But not everyone ends up comatose and depressed. Sometimes, traumatic events can trigger something completely different inside of you. Like asecond chance. It wakes you up, hardens your blood and you want to claim your dignity back.

I’m not saying I haven’t struggled – I still fucking am. I feel like screaming a lot of the time, and clearly, I’m having some anger issues. But the more time goes by, the more I just… need to feel like myself again. I need tofeel,period.

There are parts of me that know I didn’t deserve what Brody did to me, then there are parts that are still trying to grow out of the tiny box he shoved me into.

I decided I wouldn’t let him cause me a fraction of an ounce more of pain, he’s done enough to me – mind and body. I’m stronger than he assumed I am. Because I don’t need a goddamn thing from him. He doesn’t meanshitto me.

I find myself wanting to own my urges and replace the feeling of his hands on mine with others. Every single inch that he’s touched, is being replaced by someone else’s touch. He won’t have one single part of me that’s special to just him. Not anymore. Not ever again.

I want nothing of mine to belong solely to him. No place on my body will be left with only the ghost of his hands on it, Ineedto replace his touch with good ones – new ones. And lots of them.

I want to show Brody that what he did to me didn’t ruin me. He doesn’t get to win, not this time. I’m not rolling over. Never again.

I’m not a wounded baby bird, I’m a force to be scared of; A woman fucking warrior. And he’s going to learn that.

* * *

I’m wanderingaround my room, throwing shit into my suitcases, in preparation for the moment I get to hop on a plane out of this hell.

“Look, it’s not the worst thing for people to know not to fuck with you, Liv. Maybe just don’t beat anyone else’s ass this year.” Summer laughs. She’s on facetime, watching me ransack my dorm room.

“She was asking for it.” I pull out my black Prada pumps and toss them into my suitcase, followed by my favorite knee-high boots.

“Olivia.” Her voice cuts through my rampage, so I look up to see her beautiful face on the screen of my laptop. “You still have a few weeks in California, why are you packing now?”

Starting to rummage through the dresses hanging in my closet, I pull down a few of my favorites, tossing them into the suitcase as well. “It’s preemptive. Ready to go at a moment’s notice, and all that.”

Summer sighs, “Yeah, alright little psycho. Call me later.”

“Kay,” I look up at the screen, dresses in hand, “Love you.”

“Love you, bae.” She responds, then the call cuts off.

Moments later, there’s a knock at my door, so I stand from where I’m bent over, looking through drawers of underwear and bras, heading for the door.

My face falls, my blood freezing over in my veins when I peel the door open and Brody’s large frame is standing there, smiling like the cat that got the fucking cream. I scrunch up my hands at my sides when I meet his gaze.

“The fuck do you want?” He gives me a small smile then takes another step towards me, and I back up a step on instinct – unfortunately giving him the opening he wanted, so he breezes into my room, closing the door behind him.

I take a few more steps back, putting myself farther away from him. The walls start to feel like they’re closing in, and I gulp when he raises his hands to the side.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Liv. I just wanted to apologize.”

“Not fucking interested, get out.” My head is spinning, I can’t get my fists to unflex. This dick has some fucking nerve coming here.

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