Serendipity

TRIGGER WARNING: rape and sexual assault.

“Anywhere but here” the thought raced through my mind at a million miles a second. “Please,” I continued to beg “anywhere but here.”

A new sob filled the quiet night around me. All of nature's noises went silent. It was just me and my broken heart under a never ending sea of stars. 

Birch trees bordered our farm from all four directions. Most of our land consisted of plain fields that we didn’t bother growing anything on, because the goats needed a place to graze. In the far left corner of the acre that surrounded our run-down house, was my safe haven.

Nothing special marked my spot, just a single acacia that found its way onto our land from a few properties down. 

So there I sat, hugging my knees next to my acacia tree, re- living the events of the last 5 hours. I would have given anything to swap bodies with somebody, anybody, and not be the one there. However sexual assault is something I wouldn’t even wish upon my worst enemy, so I’m glad it was me. I was strong after all. I had to be. Thirteen was right around the corner.

Tears filled my eyes and were threatening to spill over. Crying was for the weak. To stop myself I tilted my head back and took in the night sky. 

“Anywhere but here.” this time it was a wish. I shut my eyes as hard as I could. A single tear trickled down my face. “Anywhere but here!” 

Regardless of how strong I had hoped to be, something inside me had broken beyond repair that night. “Never,” I promised “never will I fall for man!” 

Men were evil. They had to be! If they weren’t, I had no other explanation for what happened. Your soul had to be pitch black to dull the light of another being. It had to be, to not feel remorse, to go on about your life like nothing had happened. Do adults grow heartless with age? This man had 30 plus years on me, maybe he learned how to live in blissful ignorance. If that’s the case, I never want to grow older.

***

Living in a small town had its advantages. Everybody knew whose daughter you were. They most likely knew all your secret family drama, and if they didn’t have the full story, they’d get extremely creative. Apparently I have a no-good-alcoholic aunt, my grandmother never gave birth to, amongst other ridiculous things. If you left your house to go somewhere, not even knowing where, people would already be expecting you.

Along with all the “perks” , you’d have the not so great things. For example, you’d constantly bump into the balding forty- something year old low-life, crappy excuse of a man who molests young, innocent children.

For the duration of that year, and the next few years that followed, I would constantly see him around. He would queue behind me at the local grocery shop, he’d honk his horn as he drove past me when I’d take my bike to school. Generally, he made sure that I knew he was there. He was everywhere. 

He felt like a shadow to my every move. I was weary to go places by myself. I grew paranoid and terrified to meet new people. I never knew if he had put them up to it. Everyone became an instant threat, and my body would jump straight into panic mode. I started to feel so hopeless in public and that feeling of unease slowly drove me into a fictional world I could be part of from the comfort of my bed. Books.

*** 

After my seventeenth birthday was when I got the news. We would pack up our belongings after six long years on the farm, and leave for a new journey to the UK. Excitement filled my heart and threatened to explode. Everything bad that had happened to me would be left behind. Chains that bound me to the fragile little girl would dissolve, I would be free! 

The weeks that lead up to our departure date were tortuous. Almost as if I were watching water boil on an electric stovetop. Nothing mattered anymore. Grades flew out the window, my part-time job threatened to fire me, but who cared? I would be gone from this deadbeat town soon enough. 

Realistically speaking, I had no one to say goodbye to. I completely closed myself off to the outside world. The only thing I would miss, were my oh so many books I had collected from library sales. I struggled to find a good home for them, at least they wouldn't be used to start fires in someone's log burner. Even if they were, I’d be long gone.

The night before the drive to the airport, I re-visited my spot. Boy how things have changed. The single acacia stood tall and proud, the years had served it well. Completely unrecognisable to the twig it had one been when I spent that night crying next to it many many moons ago. I wanted to think that metaphorically this tree was me. The tears I had used to water it, aided it to grow into what it was today. The sad truth was I was still far from okay. 

***

We had arrived on the 21st of January. I remember because it was highlighted, underlined and circled twenty times in my journal. Such a random time to move! Schools wouldn't accept a new student so far into the academic year, but tickets were cheap so we went with it.

I was one of the lucky ones. It turned out I was too old to get back into full time education in the UK. By two years exactly. A month after my eighteenth birthday, in July, I received a letter I thought would change my life. I would start 6th form, from September of that year!

Celebratory drinks were in order! I had finally gotten my big break! Life started to make sense! Everything had happened for a reason! I could finally see it! Grateful was not a strong enough word for how I felt that day.

***

I didn’t own a lot of “going out” clothing. Maybe because before I had never actually gone out.

I remember that night vividly. 

I wore a simple, red, mid-thigh length, lace dress. It had a slip underneath it that covered everything, a high neck and long sleeves. Nothing I would consider promiscuous.

I was wrong.

The night started simple enough. A friend and I went to our local pub. I showed my ID, and was okayed to enter. 

We sat at a garden table outside. I slowly sipped my fruity cider, the only thing that didn’t taste like ass, on tap. We both were accepted to the same class, met in our school’s online forum, so that was the only thing we had in common to talk about. 

“I need to pop to the toilet, be right back!” I said.

“Sure, yeah, no problem, I’ll wait here” came the answer.

Minutes later I re-approached our table only to find my friend sat with a group of people at the next table down. I grabbed my pint from the table, took a sip and walked over.

Nothing felt out of the ordinary. I felt a bit drowsy, but I justified it with the fact that I rarely drank. 

I ordered a second pint. After two or three sips , I put my glass down. Crap! How strong was this stuff? I double checked in my mind how many I’ve actually had. This was only my second; I reassured myself. Then why did I feel dizzy? Why was everything getting blurry? Why did I struggle to keep up with the conversation?

“Guys- “ I burped in my mouth “Guys, I don’t feel too good” I managed to squeeze out.

“Looks like she had enough” laughed one of the guys we were sat with. “Where do you live, Love?”

My brain felt foggy. Everything that screamed ‘STRANGER DANGER’ seemed to switch off. Only though that was left was: I needed to get home!

“Three roads down towards the LIDLs” I hiccuped.

“I’ll take you, Hun. Your friend here seems to be having a good time” He looked over his shoulder to wink at his mates. “ Designated driver here”

“I - I “ I forgot my protest. I wanted to be as far from this brain numbing noise as possible. “Sure.” I gave in. 

All that followed was a blur. I knew we weren’t at my place when the ride took longer than three minutes. Even in traffic we should’ve been there by now. 

At some point the car stopped, I opened my eyes to a trashed apartment. The next flash of memory was when he moved my limp body around, almost adjusting it. 

I will forever be grateful my mind blocked what happened next. My brain did everything it could to protect me from the harsh truth about what I really was. 

A victim. 

Again.

The past evening felt like a nightmare. If it weren’t for the bruises and aches, I would’ve believed it. Just a nightmare. My body refused to listen. I knew I needed a shower. I knew I needed food, but after I had found my way into my bed, I refused to get out.

Hours became days, and days slowly turned into weeks. Before I knew, September was right around the corner. 

***

I ignored my alarm clock. School wasn’t worth it. Life wasn’t worth it. So that was how I missed my first day at my new school. Then I missed my first week.

I never told a soul about anything. If I did, surely that would’ve made me weak. I was always so strong, to get help would have meant all I did over the years was for nothing.

When I finally rocked up to school with a bird's nest for hair, and a smell that could've evacuated the building; I wasn’t surprised my first trip was to a counsellor's office to see Mr Smith, or has he preferred I call him: Jerry. 

Mr Smith, Jerry, quickly realised I wouldn’t tell him anything. Every question he asked was met with a bored expression, and the same question thrown back at him.

The school had arranged for me to see an out of school professional. Mr Skyes. You see, he was a cool guy. I came to that opinion the second I pushed through the wooden door to a long faced man with shoulder length hair, shih tzu style. He wore an 80s disco shirt and the grooviest orange sunglasses. 

I never told him exactly what happened, but he didn’t pry. He asked me what I needed, and frankly that was time. He told me to take things easy, and gave me four weeks off of school, if I joined a gym and worked on myself. 

A deal was a deal, so on my way home I stopped to register at a gym in my neighbourhood. I signed up for a class straight away. A spin class that started at the crack of dawn the following morning.

I had been ambitious about the seven AM start, but I was dressed to perfection in a stained old T-shirt and some random leggings. I don’t know what type of hill they were talking about, when they said to crank it up; because it felt like I was going vertically up the Empire State.

Sweaty and depressed from the outcome of my attempt to get my life together for real, I left the studio. On my way to the single water fountain I was followed by a person as I headed down the set of stairs. I could feel the anxious feeling in my gut growing. Just when I was about to turn around to snap at said person for walking so damn close, I caught a glimpse of the yellow and red uniform he was wearing. A lifeguard. Probably strayed for the gym’s pool. 

He ran ahead of me to push the door open that lead to the fountain. After I walked past, he followed. Uhm, why was he chaperoning me to the fountain?

“Hi” he took a sharp breath in, “I’m Ben”

Alrighty, the ‘weirdo of the year’ title went to this guy.

“Alice” I urged my bottle to fill faster.

“Nice to meet you Alice” he smiled widely, and it wasn’t the most repulsive thing I’ve ever seen.

“Right back at ‘ya” I did the weird pressed together lip thing and left. 

As I headed home I couldn’t get the weird lifeguard guy, sorry, Ben, out of my head. Why did he feel the need to introduce himself? I was only getting water. I would need to ask somebody. 

***

As I had found out later that day, Ben was probably trying to flirt. Poor guy didn’t know that I couldn't care less about what he was or wasn’t trying to do. It had been almost seven years since I first learned men were evil. I knew how to avoid them now at all costs.

I was completely flabbergasted when the very next morning he was standing near the entrance of the spin studio. I tried to walk around him like he didn’t exist, but as I reached for the handle he stopped me.

“Hi, I’m afraid the instructor had a family emergency this morning, and it was too late to call everyone, so you’ll have to reschedule for tomorrow. Really sorry for the inconvenience Alice.” he said with a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah no biggie” I walked away, and headed home.

Next morning I was awake before my alarm clock went off, which never happened before. Was I excited to go to the gym? No, that couldn’t be the case.

I made my way to my spin class with an extra bounce in my step. That bounce was gone, when I walked out of the studio with a serious saddle butt. There was no sight of Ben that day.

I took the next couple of days off. I had to revisit the professional hippie who was now my guidance counselor. He looked at me from underneath his orange glasses, said I had a glow to me, and advised me to continue with whatever I was doing.

I kept seeing Ben here and there around the gym over the span of the following couple months. I might have even taken up swimming. You know, for better lungs. Only reason. Mr Skyes kept me out of school for that time, and rather soon I was told I would need to enroll again next year. 

I had felt better than I could ever remember feeling. Sure things weren’t perfect, and I missed out big-time on education, but I taught myself how to smile again. My new job wasn’t going too bad either. 

The gym advertised a female only fitness pole class, every Tuesday late evening. I don't know what got into my head, it could have been the way things had aligned; but I put my name down. It was the support and strength of these women that made me stay after the first class. I felt like I belonged somewhere. Finally not only a reader of the fictional story, but the narrator of my own.

One February night, I headed for the exit after my pole class. Ben was walking around locking things up as the gym was due to close soon. He was only waiting for us to finish class so he could go home.

“Hi Ben!” I chirped, excited to see him. Why was I happy to see him?

“Hey Alice, how was class?” 

“Good, good. All done now! You’re on your way home soon too!” Still baffled I said ‘‘good, good’, I glanced over to the others leaving. He turned off the lights, and started for the door. With the key on the outside of the lock he answered.

“Yeah, gonna grab a cookie from Subway before I catch the bus though” he scratched his head. “Wanna join?” 

I looked up and tried to stall, to buy myself some extra time. If I said yes, I would go against everything I stood for. But I was already thinking critically of everything I once thought was true. If all men were evil, why did this once try so goddamn hard? Why did he come to speak to me even after I so blatantly ignored him at first? If men only caused harm, surely I wouldn’t be in one piece after knowing Ben for so long. I was staring at the same stars, the same sky, I had cried under so many times. That broken little girl feeling further away than ever. 

“Yes” I smiled “ I’d love to”