The Night Before

Yesterday was a different kind of day. Getting dolled up for my upcoming presentation tingles still roll up my spine from the night before. Grabbing my jeans, I put them on trying to cover up the bruises inside of my thighs. Moving into my walk-in closet from the bathroom, a shudder comes over me while sifting through my jewelry box. Today is the day I need the right necklace that has my good luck pendant. “Oh, there it is,” I burst out excitedly grabbing my purple butterfly necklace that matches the earrings already on my ears. While opening the lobster clasp attached to the necklace, I say with a shallow breath, “I need all the luck I can get.”

Hopping into my car, I head to my University campus where it’s always tough to find a parking spot. Time is getting tight as I pull up my car into a space made available for me. It’s a small campus with very few buildings compared to the other colleges. There's a distance walk between each one. Phew. I arrived right on time. My classmate, William, motions me over to the chair he saved for me. He is such a good friend of mine. We’ve been close friends since middle school. He leans over and whispers to me, “Alisha, I’m nervous. I hope she doesn’t call me first.” I cajole him, “Relax. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I, on the other hand, just want to get this over with.” He chuckles but then notices the quick change in my face that is serious now. Questioning my mood, he asks, “Why?” I hesitate in responding and battle with myself trying to decide whether to tell him what happened to me or not. Suddenly, the girl sitting next to us gets up abruptly and staggers out of the classroom right before class starts. William and I look at each other and shrug. He comments, "Guess she didn't do her homework."

Mrs. Stewart walks from her desk to the center of the room, “Okay, class. Let’s get started on those speeches. Remember that you have 10 whole minutes. Nothing more, nothing less. You will hand me your paper before you start along with your bulleted outline. I will sit right over there.” She points to the empty seat right next to me. I gasp.

Looking down at my paper, I sigh because I didn’t get to memorize the whole thing yet. I didn't plan on getting attacked last night. I thought it would just be a regular evening where I get home and read my book until I go to sleep. Good thing I finished the assignment yesterday at the library after class before I got home. Directing my attention over to Mrs. Stewart, she sits in the empty chair next to me. That’s okay, I guess. Anything to not make me think of the most horrific experience of my life. 

Since she’s so close to me, I had a feeling the professor would call me up immediately. She calls out, “Benjamin, you’re up first.” He’s sitting in the front row in the opposite corner of the room from our table. William motions his arms in a downward thrust quietly saying, “Yes, we have a lot of time.” I smile back at him, then glance back to my outline sitting in front of me thinking to myself, If I memorize the outline first, I can still breeze through the speech.

Time goes by, and I slowly get through the speech twice trying to remember each and every word. Mrs. Stewart calls the person at the table next to us. William still showing off his nerves, “Yikes. We’re up next.” I pay no attention trying to keep my calm. Finally, my turn is up.

I slyly slide my speech packet to Mrs. Stewart and slowly walk to the front. Keeping my eyes straight forward, I try to only concentrate on the words of my speech and not my hips hurting from yesterday. As I turned around to the class, Mrs. Stewart reminds me, “Don’t forget to smile dear.” That naturally made me smile and then the words spilled out in the correct order from there. Walking confidently and comfortably with no worries coming to mind, I work my imaginary stage speaking to everyone. The class gives applause and I make my way back to my seat. Mrs. Stewart replies, “Great work.” A sigh releases from my mouth in relief and I pat William on the back. “Go get ‘em tiger,” encouraging him.

After class, we go to the open lounge downstairs full of tables for study time. I turn to him, “Not many people here today. What’s going on?” “Probably Homecoming, which I’m not allowed to go to. You know, the parentals…Why do they have to be so strict with me? I only accidentally crashed the car. It's not like I was drunk or anything.” He huffs and slouches down into one of the many empty chairs. “Don't worry, you'll be out of that house soon enough and do not have to worry about your overprotective parents holding you back anymore,” I answer in a raspy voice. Clearing my throat, I suggest to him, “Let’s just study for a little bit then.”

After thirty minutes pass, William gathers his books and backpack, “See ya, sis. I gotta head home now.” I mutter back at him, “But,” and then stop myself. He glances at me with a questioning look. Composing myself, I ask, “Meet here again tomorrow?” He props his hand up pointing his index finger to me and replies, “Sure thing.” He walks out through the front entrance.

The words begin to blue in my textbook while I continue to read. Giving in, I pack up and head to the nearby snack stand for a double chocolate chip cookie. Then go to follow the flood of students headed to the gym. The marching band’s number is blaring out of the building.

Cheerleaders are dancing with pompoms shouting, "Go Tigers." Their rival dancers are rhythmically moving their way in front of all the bleachers. Our sports teams transition to their corners. Colorful flags are spinning in the air while the band members wave their instruments side to side up at the top. A queasy feeling quickly comes over me and my stomach starts to feel ill. Grabbing my backpack, I sneakily head out through the closest exit without showing my weakness to alarm anyone. Then make my way out of the room during the Dean's pre-game announcement.

The noise of the crowded gym fades in my ears as I cross the deserted lot to my car. Approaching it, my keys slip out of my hands and fall down. A quick swift from another arm grabs a hold of mine while I’m bending down to reach for my keys on the ground. He pushes me up against the car and slowly moves his mouth up to my ear, “Miss me?” I attempt to push away his arm from hooking onto mine and lean my shoulder inward pushing him back a tiny bit, grudgingly telling him, “Of course, not.”

He teases me, “Aww, come on, you know you liked it before, Alisha.” He pulls the large clip holding up my hair taking some of my hair with it. Shouting at him in a threatening voice as I push my hair behind my shoulders, “Watch it!”

“Or what? What are you gonna do about it?” He threw my hair clip across the parking lot, grabs onto my wrist and pulls me close against his chest. He rubs his nose along my cheek. “You always smell so good.”

“Stop it! I don’t like you.” Trying to break free of his hold, I also place my foot carefully on my keys trying not to make a sound while staring at him angrily. I can’t help it, but the tears begin to well up in my eyes. 

“Where’s that lovely smile of yours?” He pauses. I shove him again triggering his anger. “Don’t move,” he orders. He releases one of my hands and caresses my face. "You know I could have you right now in this car and nobody can hear you." A belted scream escapes my mouth, “Leave me alone! “I knew you were bad news the minute I saw you treat my friend badly.”

He reacts by grabbing my chin and cheek, squeezing harshly. “Now, now...you showed me you can be a good girl. You better start acting like one,” he groans at me. I regain some of my strength despite my feeling of puking and kick him in the balls with one foot. Then I grab my keys that were underneath my other foot. I slightly hesitated to get up as it was painful, I push him down as he was holding himself on the floor. Realizing my opening, I unlock the car door and get in. Shutting the door, he interrupts by grabbing it open and reaching up to pull my hair.

My head sways to him, but then I yank myself away from him, breaking free, quickly slamming the door shut. Without any time wasted, I start the car up and speed home while sobbing. Running into my apartment building and up the stairs, I can still see the scratch on the side of my door. I slam the front door shut and go straight to my bedroom. I can still see the image of him in my bed from yesterday. I rush into the bathroom and gain my composure by leaning onto the bathroom counter. Then I look up into the mirror seeing my hair completely messed up and spread apart in different directions. My bangs are wet almost covering my teary eyes completely.

I can still smell his stink on my loose strands as I wipe my nose. It makes me so angry since he followed me into my own home and still gets to do this to me. My body cannot stop shaking while my adrenaline is rushing. I grab the scissors inside the drawer and cut every part of my hair that he touched, also trimming my bangs to the side. I look back into the mirror at my uneven haircut with a still saddened look. 

Nothing will ever be the same since last night. Do I say something or not? Who can I tell? Do I pick up the phone and finally tell Williams or not?