“No!” Lily cried, her voice shaking. “No, please! I’m sorry, I really am!”

He ignored her protests.

“I’m just fifteen! Please!”

“Shut up!” He yelled, into her left ear. “I’ve given you what you want for too long! Now it’s my turn!”

She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking if she blocked him out for long enough, he would go away. Think of something else. Think of anything but this, here.

And sure enough, when she opened her eyes, she was alone. The room was in shambles, her jeans torn, but she was alone. Gingerly, she ran her hands down her limbs, but decided there was nothing broken, just bruised. Then she remembered.

“What happened?” she whispered to herself. “Oh my god, what happened?”

Yeah, she had been strong enough to take it. And she was still alive. But now, alone, she allowed herself to cry.

“Maybe it was my fault,” she whispered. “Maybe I really am a terrible person!” Curling herself into the fetal position, she just rocked and sobbed; sobbed and wondered.