Page 3 of The Secret's Out

Pushed away by strong hands, I stumbled into Simone. She wrapped her arms around my waist to steady me. “You stupid jerk,” Simone screamed. People started taking notice. I was surprised they hadn’t beforehand, though most were drunk and in their own little worlds. Some looked too scared to say or do anything. I couldn’t blame them. I would have been the same.

“You stupid bitch,” he snarled at me. He wiped his mouth and studied me. Whatever he saw had him smirking. “You really hate it, don’t you? Touching, attention. Here I thought you were just shy, but now I know you have mental problems.” He chuckled. “Makes it more fun for me.” He winked, turned, and walked away.

From that night on, he became my personal nightmare. I was terrified by his obsession with me.

He’d show up wherever I was. His eyes travelled along with every step I took. His smirk turned sexual and his words sinister. He wanted me, but he couldn’t have me and he did not like that at all. So much so, if he couldn’t make it to me, he’d have his friends do his job for him and they’d follow me. I could hear their fake whispered conversations of how strange I was. They’d call me names like tease, slut and ugly.

All I wanted was to be left alone.

However, they wouldn’t. They were puppets following their master’s lead.

Once, six months ago, I even tried to go on a date with a shy guy like me. I could tell he was nervous. He didn’t even make a move to hold my hand, which I liked. It went well, until Cameron showed up at the café. He slid into the booth opposite me, next to my date, and told him that I was a cock tease, that I had problems, and was mentally unstable. He warned my date that if he continued to date me, I would turn into a stalker, like I had with him. Apparently, Cameron was just following the ‘bro code’. All men had to stick together and warn each other of the freaks, like me.

Of course, because my date was worried it was true and the fact that he didn’t want Cameron’s attention, he fled the café and I never saw him again.

After that, Cameron went from standing back and teasing, to touching. Any chance he got, he would rub up against me, run his hand down my back. Pretend to lean in to kiss me or tap me on the shoulder and yell, “Boo.” Again, if he couldn’t be around to do it, he’d have his friends fill in for him.

Every day I was a nervous wreck.

I’d become a jittery fool, one who was even more timid and withdrawn than I’d been after Zara and Talon saved me from David.

I was losing hope in society once more. I knew Simone saw it. I knew she was worried for me, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t go to the police. I didn’t want the attention, and I knew Cameron would make my life worse than it already was.

My grades declined, and once more, my social skills took a hit. I was like a zombie walking around campus, with my head low, my books to my chest and a hunched posture, all while I waited for hell to begin for the day.

Even my boss, a fifty-year-old woman named Marybeth, noticed the change in me. I’d lost count of how many times she had asked me if I was okay. All I could do was nod. Thankfully, due to my ‘shyness’, she had taken me off floor duty, from serving customers. Instead, I was out back helping with the preparation of the food and washing the dishes. I loved her for it. She knew I struggled being around strangers. At first, she’d encouraged me to try floor duty and for a while there, I loved it because I didn’t have to touch anyone and I only had to speak a few words...until everything went pear-shaped because of Cameron.

Misery was my name and I didn’t know how to change it.

I wanted to reach out to my parents, my sister or brother even, but I didn’t. Why? Because I felt I needed to deal with it on my own. It was my choice to move away. It was my choice to attend university, to be independent. So if I ran home, if I rang them crying about how terrible it all was, I would be a failure. I couldn’t become that person. I needed to show, not only myself, but my family that I had grown. Their protection, their love had contributed to my freedom, my independence. I was no longer that little girl who was carried from a nightmare. At least, I didn’t feel I was. No matter what I was enduring every day and no matter how much it hurt, strength grew inside of me.

Still, I missed my family with every fibre of my being, missed their warmth and protection.

Because of that, everything hurt.

Simone tried her best to make me happy, get me to laugh, and for her, I did as best as I could.

I knew that when I smiled or laughed at her jokes, it didn’t show in my eyes. There was no fooling her either; she would see through my façade every time, causing her to sigh in defeat. But she never gave up. The next day, she would make another attempt. I loved her for trying so much.

I stopped doing anything other than classes or work. As soon as class or my shift finished, I would race home. I was lucky I didn’t live far from both places.

Cameron showed up many times at home. If Simone was home, she’d send him away. If she wasn’t, I’d sit on the floor in the corner of the living room to listen and wait until he eventually left. I’d never cave and open the door to him. If I did, the outcome wouldn’t be pretty. His foul language and anger was enough to convince me he was a threat. It was that anger that would be taken out on me physically, destroying what little hope I had of ever finding normalcy.

About two months earlier his nightly visits finally stopped. One night when he came by, Parker, the owner, was home. He must have had a very bad business trip because when Cameron banged on the door, Parker swung my bedroom door open. The force from it hit my wall, causing me to squeal and jump. Parker stood in the doorway scowling. He then demanded to know if the loser at the door was annoying me. All I could do was nod. I was too terrified to do anything else. Once I answered, Parker then barked out, “Never be scared of me.” I gave another nod and then he added, “I’ll deal with it.” He closed my door with a bang and stomped off toward the front door.

I wished I had the courage to have seen what occurred at the front door, but all I heard was yelling, mainly from Parker. After a few noises, which sounded like punches, things fell silent and Parker was at my door again opening it. “He won’t come here again. If he troubles you at other places, you need to find someone to deal with it.” With that, he closed my door, gently that time, and went back to his room, leaving me with yet more questions regarding my housemate. All I knew was that he looked to be around twenty-four, and he travelled a lot; though I wasn’t sure he liked what he did.

If it wasn’t for the day he handled Cameron, I would have kept on thinking he was a nerdy bookworm with how he stayed locked in his room reading with his sexy glasses on his nose. I had seen he was a fan of reading when one day I’d been walking past his room, his door suddenly opened and he stepped out. I looked over his shoulder quickly to see his walls were lined with bookcases and many books sat upon them. However, the way he handled my trouble at the front door had me second guessing myself. Parker had been true to his word though. Cameron never darkened our doorstep again. Though, it hadn’t changed the attention I still got at uni. If anything, whatever Parker did caused Cameron’s stare to turn deadly.

After that incident, Parker stayed around for two more days before he left again. We said nothing to each other about what had happened. Even when he returned two weeks later to stay another three nights, zilch was shared between us. Since then, he hadn’t been back. I couldn’t help but pray he was okay.

Simone, knowing something had changed, asked me why Cameron wasn’t coming to the house any longer. I told her about Parker. Her eyes glazed over and she got a small, satisfied smile on her face. “Now we just need to find someone to do whatever he did in public when dickface is still screwing with you,” she’d said.

Standing in the bathroom, I shook all thoughts from my mind, my eyes were still red from crying in the shower. I waited in the bathroom trying to hide it from Simone. I took a deep breath and swiped at the fogged-up mirror to stare at my reflection.

I’d lost weight, enough for me to know that I was underweight. My cheek bones jutted out and my once shiny styled hair looked lifeless, so did the bags under my eyes. I lifted my red waves and let them fall back into the wet mess it was. Simone had surprised me on my twentieth birthday, just four months earlier, with a beauty day.

I’d been reluctant to go due to my phobias. Still, because Simone was such a great supportive friend, I sucked it up for the day and went out with her to get my nails painted black and my long, very curly, red hair was styled into a modern wave. Something I absolutely loved. It was too bad it looked lifeless once again, even when dried. What didn’t help was my lack of care.

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