Shattered Glass

The next day came to early, even thought I didn’t even peek out from underneath my blanket until twelve thirty rolled around. My body hurt and my head was throbbing. My stomach rolled and I threw the covers off of me and ran to the bathroom, crouching over the toilet just in time to empty the drinks I had consumed the night before. My throat burned as I coughed up the last bit, wiping my mouth with a rag.

I brushed my teeth, ridding my mouth of the gross taste that was left over. I stood back, looking myself in the mirror. My hair was messy from sleep though now clean of muck. My lips were still chapped but not as bad now that I applied chap stick. I didn’t have any mud or dirt on me. My body was clean, thank goodness. I flushed the potty and walked out.

The kitchen was clean, nearly dry plates in the dish washer. Mom must have put them in there after breakfast this morning. My stomach rumbled and I thought about making some food but passed it up, deciding it was nessicary for the moment. My appetite isn’t all here today. Settling for a thing of Oreos, I head back up stairs to my room. I don’t feel like going out today.

Melody texted me asking about the party but I ignored it. What was I supposed to tell her? Well, it was great until i got drunk and some guy raped me. Other than that, had a blast, wish you would have went with me? No. She can’t know. Nobody can. I don’t hear from Jane or Rebecca at all.
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Monday morning wasn’t any better. My alarm clock is loud and annoying, screaming at me to get up and face the day. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and wincing. My eyes were sore and my cheeks were raw from crying last night, my body feeling weak and slow as I got out of bed. I don’t know how I managed to actually sleep Saturday night, without reliving the attack. I remember thrashing around in my bed, tossing and turning from the vivid and frightening images that played over in my head.

I shut it out, sighing as I walked over to my dresser. I had plenty of time to get dressed and prepared for school but I slipped into a pair of skinny jeans and stuffed my socked feet into my ugg boots. I don’t want to show off any more skin than nessicary. A black long sleeved shirt was pulled over my head and my hair was thrown into a pony tail. My mind told me to at least put on some mascara but I pushed it off, slipping my pony tail into the back of a ball cap.

One my teeth was brushed and my book bag was ready, I was down stairs. Mom was putting dishes on wash as dad finished his french toast. Funny how she has enough time to cook for him and her but she can’t make me breakfast.

“Are you going to eat anything? We have eggs in the fridge.” My mom called out as I brushed past her.

“I’m not hungry.” I mutter, kissing my dad on the cheek before walking over to her for a hug.

“You need to eat something, Honour. You’ll get sick if you don’t.” Mom lightly scolded, motioning around the kitchen. Since when does she care?
“Fine. I’ll eat it on the way to school.” I say snatching up an apple. She frowns but nods her head, motioning for me to leave. No goodbye. No “I love you.”.. Nothing.

I wait until I see moms car pass me and turn down the street to throw the apple away, watching it roll across the street and into the storm drain by the side walk. I don’t feel like eating.

I get to school and make it to my locker without being bothered. Nobody talks to me or bumps into me, which I am thankful for. I don’t feel like being very social right now. Not today. I close my locker and turn around, nearly dropping my books.

Light green eyes stare down at me, wide and beautiful as they sparkle. Messy chocolate curls surround his head light a halo, contrasting with the lightness of his eyes. Plump pink lips smile down at me, showing off perfect white teeth.

“Hi.” He speaks first, his voice raspy and deep.

“H-hi.” I stutter, my gaze dropping down to my feet.

“I’m Harry.” He rumbles, seeming to not notice my blazing cheeks. Is this okay? Was he at the party?

“I’m Honour.” I mumbled, glancing up at him then back down to my feet. No. He’s to tall.

“Connor? Isn’t that a boys name?” Harry asks. He must know that something is wrong. Or is he used to this kinda reaction to him?

“Um, Honour. My name is Honour.” I say more clearly, looking up at him.

No. He wasn’t the one. His shoulders are wider and I would remember his hair. His body would have stood out from the very beginning if his hair wouldn’t have gave him away. My chest loosens a little before I exhale, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

“Oh, my bad. I’m new around here. Do you mind showing me around a little? Until I get it all down pat?” He asks, his voice rasping a thick british accent.

“Uh..Sure?” I ask, not meaning it to sound like a question.

“Alright, cool. I have math as my first class. Mrs....Johansson?” He asks, showing me his schedule.

“Yeah, right this way.” I say, trying to sound happier. He’s going to think I hat ehim if I don’t.

We were almost to his first room when a tight hand gripped my free arm, whirling me around to face them. My hear beat fast and I freaked, snatching my hand back. I let out a small shriek, stumbling away from the stranger.

Rebecca and Jane raised their eyebrows at me. Oh. It’s just them.

“Hey, where did you go Saturday? We went looking for you.” Rebecca asks, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

“I-I...” I started but I soon discovered that I didn’t know what to tell him. Should I tell them what really happened? My mind hissed at me and I backed away from that option. I glanced up at Harry, bringing the girls attention to him.

“I walked home. I wasn’t feeling to good.” I lied, thankful that Harry was there to distract them.

Rebecca’s blue eyes roamed over his body while Jane batted her hazel eyes at him. Harry grinned at the girls.

“Oh. You got sick. I gotcha. We will talk about this later. See you at lunch.” Rebecca said, winking as she spoke. I know she took that the wrong way as she glanced back up at Harry before giving me a knowing smile. If she only knew.

“This is your room.” I announce as we stop at a door.

“Thanks for the help. What class do you have?” He asked, his height towering over me as he looked onto my own schedule.

“History. I’ll see you afterwards, yeah?” He asked, looking down at me hopefully. I just nodded my head and attempted to smile back at him. He nodded his head as he backed away before disappearing through the door.

My normal self would have flirted but something was holding me back. Something new. They battled in my head as I crossed over campus, towards my class room.

Why didn’t you flirt with him! Get his number! Work your charm! Why aren’t you listening to me?!

Because, flirting is bad. Boys are bad. Flirting+boys= bad. Keep yourself out of trouble. We don’t want a repeat.

Not all boys are bad. Harry doesn’t seem like the dangerous type. He looks sweet.

They are good like that. They play pretend, lure you in. It’s the perfect set up.

You can’t blame every guy you see. For all you know, it could have been some guy from Canada visiting his grandma for the weekend that did it. You can’t pin the blame on every guy you come in contact with.

I don’t blame every guy. I don’t blame my dad and he’s a guy.

You know exactly what I mean by that. That’s what you are doing. You are sharing the blame with every male you come in contact with.

Notes