Page 56 of White Room Virgin

I retrieved a glass and filled it with tap water. Standing still for a moment, I took a sip and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just before midday. When I turned back to the others, Clarissa jumped up and hurried out. Steven was probably still in a deep sleep. Martin pushed the empty cup aside and cast a worried glance in my direction. I was surprised that he didn’t say anything.

Clarissa returned to the kitchen with a bandage in her hand. She came straight toward me, blocking my path and making it impossible for me to keep my distance. The sudden closeness made me more than uncomfortable.

“It’s better if we cover this,” she said, pointing to my cheek.

The cut wasn’t particularly deep, but I stood still and let her do it.

“How did this happen?” she asked, discarding the leftover paper in the bin.

“Honestly, I don’t even know…” I replied casually. And it was the truth—I had no idea. However, I wouldn’t have been shocked if Ben had found it necessary to brand me that way.

That motherfucker!

Martin stood up and took a plastic bag from the floor, which contained my clothes from last night. My damp coat was hanging over the chair.

“Please take the blanket Steven gave you,” Clarissa said.

“Nonsense. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine,” Martin contradicted. “You have a fever. Take the blanket!”

Clarissa rushed outside and retreated with the army blanket. She delicately draped it around me, evoking a sense of vulnerability like a small, dependent child. I resisted the emotions with all my strength, clutching the blanket tightly around me as I followed Martin out to the bus stop.

The journey home lasted half an hour. I stared blankly at the back of the seat in front of me, attempting to tune out the pain that intensified with each bump of the bus. I cherished every moment of tranquility and calm.

Tears threatened to well up inside me. Part of me yearned to retreat into solitude, yet I also longed for Martin's presence, knowing his mere proximity offered solace and support during that moment of vulnerability.

A true friend …

When our stop came, I fought my way out into the cold and shuffled home alongside Martin. Although I still had the blanket wrapped tightly around me, I was shivering. It felt like I had slept in a tub of ice water all night. My fingers twitched with the desire to smoke, but all my cigarettes were soaked.

“I was really hoping you got it under control this year,” Martin said, catching me off guard.

His words surprised me so much that I jumped and almost slipped on the wet floor. But before my pain and despair could take over, I abruptly pushed him away and glared at him. “Stop it! Everything is all right.”

“All right! Everything is all right. That’s all I hear from you. Don't you care what happened last night? Are you even aware of what happened to you?”

I rushed into the house and gathered all my energy as I climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. It felt like I had concrete blocks on my feet. Martin was close behind me. He caught up with me on the third floor and blocked my way. “Who was it?”

“Does it matter?” I asked, squeezing past him. Every fiber of my being screamed with desperation, yet I couldn’t succumb to it. I needed to reach my room, and collapsing on the stairs was not an option. Despite my inner turmoil, I pushed forward, taking two steps at a time.

“That bastard got you …”

Before he could continue, I spun around. “I wanted it, okay? I … I needed it!”

Martin stared at me with wide eyes. “Lu, you were bleeding!”

I turned away from him and kept walking.

“So, was it worth it?” he called after me. “Do you feel better now? You’ve got strangulation marks on your neck! A cut on your cheek! He … no … you let him … rape you! Jesus Christ! Lu! You have to report him!”

I found it difficult to breathe and I was sure it wasn’t because of all the stairs. Something was closing in my throat and a piercing shrill rang in my head. When I finally reached the top floor, I pushed open the door and staggered into the apartment.

26

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Jonah

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