FOUR—Get Out.

The rest of the school day passes without incident, and I’m glad when it’s over. It’s never easy being the new girl.

Classroom doors swing open and students pour into the hallways in torrents. Loud chatter and laughter fill the air as friends try to catch up with one another.

I allow myself to be carried by the crowd heading for the exit. As I move, I strain my neck to look around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Raymond—or even a whiff of his repulsive scent. Unfortunately, I have no such luck.

I arrive at the parking lot where Alex is already waiting.  

“Heard about your little display today,” he says in greeting.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I mumble, refusing to meet his eyes.

He leads the way to a shiny white Mercedes waiting for us.  

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her,” he smiles and winks at me.  

I shiver involuntarily. My adoptive mother is a nasty, evil woman, worse than the Scarlet Witch. If she were to hear about what happened at school today, she’d find a way to make my life more miserable than it already is. 

I wipe my face of emotion as I get into the back seat of the car.  

“Hi, Mom.” Alex leans over to kiss her in the front passenger seat.  

“How was school, baby?” she begins to pull out of the parking lot.  

“Boring. I couldn’t wait for it to be over.” Alex digs into her handbag, searching for the regular snack she always brings for him.  

“Nothing peculiar happened?” She locks eyes with me through the rearview mirror.  

I stare back, expressionless, but my heart races wildly. Would Alex tell her? Is she going to park on the roadside and make me walk home?

My hands tremble in my lap.  

“Apart from the English teacher tripping headfirst into his table? I don’t think anything else could count as exciting.” Alex chatters around a mouthful of chips.  

I feel myself release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Catherine doesn’t speak to me. My adoptive mother prefers to ignore me and pretend like I don’t exist unless she’s having fun. Her idea of fun includes hitting me across the face or watching Alex bully me.

She doesn’t think it’s anything wrong, after all, my body heals anyway like the freak I am.

Though Alex covered for me, I still don’t trust him.

I always have to be on guard around these two. I blink back angry tears. All I have to do is live through five months—five months until I turn eighteen; then I can move out on my own.

Soon enough, we arrive home, and I head straight for the stairs and to my bedroom.  

I throw my backpack onto my bed and begin to undress, desperate for a shower. I’m in the middle of taking off my bra when my door bangs open.

“Yas I need you to…”

Immediately, I wrap my hands around myself. Alex stands tall in my doorway, fully clothed in his school wear and holding a half-eaten bag of chips. His mouth hangs open in surprise. I watch his hazel eyes widen as he looks me up and down, taking in my appearance.

The only piece of clothing I have on is a lacy pair of underwear. I tighten my arms around my chest, wishing I could disappear. My heart begins to beat rapidly. I feel my palms starting to sweat, and my nails elongate into sharp, deadly tips.

I keep them hidden with my hands wrapped around my body.

“I…I came to…” Alex stutters.

I try to force my body to move, but it won’t. I’m stronger and faster, if he tries anything, I can take him on. But why won’t I move?

Realization slowly dawns on me that I am utterly scared and terrified of the male before me.

Nobody has ever seen me this exposed…except…that person nine years ago. I’ve tried to block out that memory for years and it all seems to be bubbling up to the surface now.

I’m trembling from head to toe, my breath is coming out in short gasps. I can’t breathe.

Alex takes a step forward, looking uncertain. “Yo, are you alright?”

“Go away” I gasp, still struggling to calm my racing heart and breathe.

He comes closer looking genuinely worried.

“Hey Yas, yo good? You’re shaking all over”

“Don’t you dare think you can get away with touching me Alex” I hiss bitterly.

“Wait, what?” He arches a brow in confusion.

Then understanding lights his eyes.

“Oh my God! What! You’re disgusting, I’d never…”

“Then go away” my voice cracks.

“You just accused me of…” he starts to say.

“Get out!” I scream, picking up a pillow and hurling it at him.  

It smacks him in the face, and it seems to jolt him out of his reverie. Without another word, he turns around and leaves, shutting the door with a slam.

Once he’s gone, my knees give out, and I fall to the ground with a thud. My nails shrink back to their normal length and I struggle to calm my racing heart. 

My chest heaves as I gasp for breath, and I finally allow my hands fall from my chest, trembling.  

I’m still shaken by the thought of what he could have done to me, or tried to do to me. 

Living on the streets for 2 years before my adoption has given me horrors I can never trade back. 

I don’t want to remember that night, I don’t want to remember that person. But my mind is beginning to conjure up an image of a man on a dark, rainy alley.

I’ve tried to convince myself that night never happened, that it was all a nightmare or a fever dream.

“Block it out Yasmine” I scream, holding my head. Trying hard to suppress the images that are popping up in my mind.

“None of it is real. It’s all in your head, it’s a bad dream.” I’m banging my forehead against the floor, tears streaming down my face.

I continue doing this until the pain blurs out the memory. Then I fall on my side, sobbing silently.