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One Moment

In memory I see a moment that lasted only minutes. I live that moment over and over again. I’ll take you there now. You can join me if you’re so inclined but I must warn you that it’s not pleasant from this point forward.

It’s late night. I’m somewhat aware of anything because I’m sick. I’m not feeling well and all I want is to get in bed. The scene is set and the other player in this play is about to appear.

He becomes aware of my situation. He helps me to our shared bedroom. His bed is on one side of the room. My bed is on the other side.

In this moment I don’t recall what took place prior to arriving at the apartment we shared. I was somewhere else and then I was in the bedroom.

The sounds outside the apartment are muffled. There’s an odd silence. I’m somewhat aware of anything. I want to sleep.

He helps me out of my clothes. He places me in bed. Now that I’m recalling this moment I’m uncertain if I was sick or drunk that time because there was another time when I was sick in which the events of that evening were different from those of this particular evening.

I’m in bed as he climbs on top of me. His large cock aiming for between my legs. There’s no discussion. There’s no consent. There’s a penis being aimed between my legs but I don’t want it there.

My legs are strong. I hold my legs tightly together. I’m determined not to allow his cock in me. He gives up the fight and I go to sleep.

We never mention that night.

I’m certain now, looking back that I was drunk this night and sick the night he took my clothes off and got into bed with me to keep me warm.

One night was a welcomed gesture of care and one night was an attempt to rape me.

Time passes and so I look back with curiosity. The events of the rest of that day are a blur but those few minutes are vivid as though I could go there in my mind and live that moment again.

Categories: writing


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