Thrust Into His Arms

He did not even care to explain. It almost sounded as if he knew who it was.

Does he?

That is stupid to even reason of course he doesn’t. How can he?

Do not think about it. I mutter, shaking my head when my thoughts were starting to divert to a certain direction and someone.

I take out a novel from my bag and started reading through the very much familiar printed writings that I can even recite word for word because of how many times I have read it.

I wasn’t enjoying the beginning so I’m turning far into the middle pages to find a bookmarked one:

The page with the most spicy rated 18 content. I freakishly love it! That is why I always buy them. The owner of the bookstore I frequent gives me stern looks trying to intimidate me from going to the steamy aisles of books each time because he somehow knows that I am eighteen even though I got a fake ID to fool him.

I prove stubborn and ignore him because I so much love it.

I am as cool as a freezer and awkward as hell when it comes to matters of sex in real life. I like to think of myself as asexual because I find it to be just. . . Bleh.

But in novels? They are everything to me:

An entire zoo of butterflies! Fireworks more amazing than the world has ever seen exploding in my brain and sending sweet feelings throughout my body. That is what gave me the habit of screaming into my pillow at 2am when the others are fast asleep.

"Damn it! Where are you?" I can’t find it. I’m getting increasingly frustrated after going through the whole book two times. I carefully flip the pages this time and. . . I found it.

I smile cheekily to myself as it feels like a sweet achievement.

The color maker on the page has almost faded.

No wonder I could not find it. I make a mental note to mark it again sharper when I get home. I am very much of an organized person.

I exhaled. Relaxing and started to read it words after words. My colorful imagination bringing it to life so much that it feels like I’m watching a movie of it at the same time.

I froze seeing that it details an oral sex scene. It is like a non-con as the ML goes down on the FL forcefully. It instantly brings memories that I really want to forget back into my mind.

"She pleads with him to stop while her body moves to him at the same time. "Stop it..... please.... Ahhh!" It comes out as a moan. His mouth leaves her core, raising his head to look at her. His grey eyes turning darker from lustful intent and hunger. "Stop? We both know that you don’t really want that."

I quickly close the book with a slam as it is triggering me of the night that Calix did the same to me.

Did the temperature suddenly go high or is it just me?

I continuously blow out air, fanning myself with the book. The person close to me asks if I am alright casting a curious, wierd look at me.

I nod in response. Putting the book on my lap and pretending to be okay.

I am so not. My mind is unforgivingly replaying that night for some shitty unknown reason.

My skin is tingling and I cannot explain why. I would have been able to contain it if it is only just the memories. But it’s not. It is carrying the feelings as well. The high and the rush of sensations that I have discovered is called dopamine and oxytocin that I had felt because of the insane pleasure. I bite down on my lip, inwardly pleading with my brain to quit it. I lean back, shutting my eyes and willing my mind to shut down momentarily in a nap.

But that is making it worse instead because my brain is refusing to comply as it is so focused on replaying that night so vividly behind my eyelids.

I should not be feeling like this. I thought, my hands balling into fists.

Why am I feeling as though I would like it if he were to—no, no snap out of it Gweneth. Snap out of it! You should be mad and repulsed. That was practically rape as it was a forceful act. I spent the next couple minutes willing myself to hate and be disgusted but somehow it is changing into letting me remember how much I had enjoyed it.

How my body had moved on its own searching for more but was it really on its own? I was aware—it was just in a little part of my mind though, but I knew that I was succumbing to him and despite hating him and the idea, I let it happen.

I recall having a great need for something that I do not even know of and somehow knowing that he could give it and that made me shamelessly plead with him to give it to me.

The indescribable euphoria that coursed through me when he did and shortly afterwards before clarity, shame and overwhelming self-hatred came in to sting and lash out at me over letting my worst enemy put his hands on my body to give it orgasms when I should have fought harder against him and show him exactly how much I hate his evil guts.

I still am trying to understand what he did to my body that night to make it go against me. To listen and obey him.

He must have bragged and laughed about it to his friends and anyone who would listen. He might have even recorded the sounds. who knows? I can’t put it past him not to.

I had gone to that school wanting to be make a bright future for myself. To be the most peculiar wallflower or an invisible shadow that would not be noticed. Who would have known that what I would get would be so different and sordid?

I repeatedly shake my head to remove the thought but then I stop, allowing my mind to run through it.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!!!" I did not know when I began screaming it out loud like a mad woman inside the train section.

When I came to my senses I saw that almost everyone in the section is giving me crazy wierd looks.

"Oh my God. I think she is mentally unstable." An old-sounding feminine voice whisper-gossiped.

They’re all seeming dead shocked by my outburst. And that was only one-tenth of what I want to let out. I could not hold it in because it was too much.

The girl besides me, her eyes are bulging out of their sockets. She was startled to the point of terror. I relax, keep the screaming inside me and folded my hands, staring blankly into space. A lady who seemed like a coordinator on the train came to ask me if I was okay.

I could only sigh as saying that I am okay is a lie that I do not feel like telling right now.

They might be expecting me to say sorry but screw them all.

I could sense the girl shifting cautiously in her seat. As though I can read her mind I know that she must be wishing she could swap places with someone else right now. But who would want to seat close to a crazy person?

Only a crazy person. The birds of same feathers must also apply in that case no?

Every passenger but me is expecting to reach their destination. I really wish for the ride to go on for the whole of today and even longer.

We arrived at St John’s County train station thirty minutes later. Freaking 9:30!

That brings me to the conclusions that wishes are never taken when I make them. It just bounces back like a counterfeit cheque. Plus a negative bonus.

I go to my favorite local themed park to get some ice cream and watch the other people have fun and the city bustling more than usual around me which leaves me thinking: Why is it not as half as desolate as I am?

Time is ticking slower than usual. It must be counting the seconds of every minute twice.

.

I feel like I have been here for long only to check the time on my phone to see that I have only be here for a little more than a hour.

I still stayed until I felt too bummed out and tired to even sit on the park bench. I need a bed or a couch to relax on. Doing that in the backseat of a taxi cab is not a good safe thing to do. The huge burly driver is making me feel unsettled.

I can count on one hand the number of times that I have been in a taxi. Either Dad drives me or I use the subway. But I do know that it is not a normal thing for a driver to be stealing glances at his passenger through the rearview mirror.