Page 19 of Penance

The question claws at my mind, and the answer comes just as quickly.

I was raped.

Someone came into my apartment, and they raped me in my sleep.

My thoughts race, each one a stab of disbelief.

I look down at my trembling hands, the same hands that had clasped together in prayer just hours ago. Now, they feel tainted, foreign.

Dirty.

I was so dirty.

“Why would you allow this?” I ask, my voice raw, my shaking fingers clutching the toilet so hard they hurt. “What did I do to deserve this? Why would you do this to me, God?”

Maybe it’s a test,I think, grasping for any shred of anything that makes sense.

No,another voice inside me says. This is a new voice—the voice of reason.This isn’t a test. This is a crime.

My stomach lurches at the thought, at the knowledge that someone has taken something from me that I can never get back.

They took it from me—my purity.

I am not a virgin anymore.

My body convulses, another wave of sobs wracking through me. I can feel the bruises forming dark blooms under my skin. I can feel the throb of pain that pulses between my legs with every strain. I feel possessed, as if someone I didn’t invite has seized control of my body.

They did,the sneering voice says.That’s what rape is.

I cry as I gag again, harder, and something comes up this time, even if it’s only bile. I let it drip into the toilet bowl, splattering against the porcelain.

What do I do?

Report it?

Keep silent?

My father’s disapproving frown flashes across my mind. The whispering judgment of my church congregation buzzes in my ears like a million angry hornets.

It’s my fault,they’ll say.I must have done something to deserve it.

I’ve heard it before.

The thought sends a fresh wave of nausea through me. I can’t face them.

They can never know.

No one can ever know.

Reaching up, I grab the handle and flush the toilet, watching as my vomit swirls down the drain. When it’s clean, and new—and pure—I force myself to stand up, shaking as I get to my feet and strip off my nightgown.

No one will ever know.

Ever.

I will make sure of that.

Reaching over, I bat the shower curtain away and reach inside, twisting on the tap.

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