Under a Silent Moon

39

Chapter Thirty-Nine: It's Not Your Fault

LANA

Reeling, I slump over my bathroom sink, sweat dripping into and stinging my eyes. No matter how hard I squeeze my eyelids shut, all I can see are those predatory dark eyes staring at me eagerly, hungrily. I can feel his coarse hands searching my body, grabbing me in all the wrong places despite my cries of objection. I throw my bag on the floor and tear my clothes off so that I'm wearing nothing but a bra and tattered underwear.

I feel disgusting. Lower than dirt.

In my mind I repeat it's not your fault it's not your fault it's not your fault but I don't believe myself. I run a shaky hand through my greasy, unwashed hair. I need to get clean. Now.

I run the water in the tub and watch it fill up quickly. My body trembles despite the warm steam filling the room and fogging up the mirror. When the bath is full, I go to take off the remainder of my clothing but find myself unable to. A bra strap hangs loosely on my shoulder, but I can't make myself pull it off the whole way. Instead, I step into the bath still wearing the undergarments and sink low beneath the scorching hot water. It doesn't faze me. I still quiver.

I viciously splash water on my face and I can feel my skin transitioning to a deep shade of red. It's painful. It's masochistic, even. But at least I feel something.

Why me? I ask, but the answer has eluded me for as long as I can remember, I don't expect it to be clear now. What did I do to deserve this?

How could Zack--how could anyone--want me now? I can barely look at myself in the bathwater's reflection, so how could I expect anyone else to look at me without utter revulsion?

I reach over the tub, fumbling aimlessly for my bag. A pool of water forms on the white tile below. I shove my hand into my bag and find the bottle, quickly uncapping it and bringing into the tub with me. It's nearly full--I've been saving these for awhile. Although I knew it would come to this, I never thought it would under these circumstances. If I would have done this earlier, I could have saved myself a shit ton of agony.

I try not to think about that now. It'll be over soon.

My hand is shaking so violently as I hold the bottle just below chin level that I can hear the clacking of the pills as they jostle around. Despite how much I want to do this, I can still feel an invisible pull at my arm, keeping the pills away from my mouth. As this internal struggle continues, tears slide down my cheeks one after the other in rapid succession. I can't stop them despite my embarrassment. I hate how vulnerable and pathetic I feel. I hate it I hate it I hate it.

Despite my decisive mindset, memories push their way to the forefront of my consciousness. Images, emotions, things that didn't exist before. Either that, or they were never strong enough to fight their way through. Blake scooping me into a bear hug. Terrence's scratchy kisses. Singing next to Carly on stage. Zack's hand in mine.

I can't do this. I could do it. I should do it.

A loud noise echoes throughout the compact bathroom and I don't recognize it as my own sobs until frantic fists are pounding on the door.