She hated herself, almost as much as she hated him. She had not
always been the hating type. She had once been gentle and kind, but life
had not been gentle and kind to her. Today, she hated that she had
followed one more time. She had followed her fear, instead of her heart,
and she had followed this man into this room, because of another set of
empty promises, and smooth words. But all the kindness went away as
soon as she had consented.
Once he had heard her “Yes” he looked at her differently. Suddenly
his touch was not so much about her, as it was about him. He became
rough with her as he led her into the back room. Moments ago, he had
seemed so attentive, and almost thoughtful. It had all shifted when she
nodded her head to his proposition. It was clear that when their
encounter ended she would never see him again. That’s not what his words
said earlier, but his actions and tone spoke louder than his words ever
had.
He began roughly pulling at her clothing, and bodily moving her into a
position of submission and weakness. She gave in, her heart breaking
again into little pieces as she silently refused to stand up for
herself. Her body and her heart were dying hundreds of tiny deaths, and
she choked back everything that was true about herself. How had she
ended up here again? But she knew the role she was supposed to play, and
she gave in to the actress who had betrayed her before. This painfully familiar scene had played out before, and here she was
again. Each act was familiar, and she knew her lines all too well.
