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Twenty-Eight

29th October, Monday

I went to school today and . . . some stuff happened. Nasty stuff. Which I don’t want to tell anyone about.Ever. But I can’t hide it from you either.

You were getting discharged today, and we were happy about it. I had decided to take personal care of you and Katherine teased me to wear a sexy nurse outfit for you. I’m sure you would have liked that very much.

I think I would have worn it if I was not harassed by Dave Cooper, the one and only dearest son of principal Inez.

I can’t talk about it so I am doing what I am good at. Writing about it. I may or may not have told him off in the canteen when he and his friends were making fun of you. I couldn’t stand it, so I insulted him in front of his friends. I get it; I overstepped a line. But what he did to me . . . was far worse.

He must have followed me to the girl’s bathroom when I was alone and, um, tried to force himself on me. He called me a slut, whore and what-not. For a moment, I was scared. I was frozen with what seemed like fear running in my veins. I was terrified when he grabbed my wrists and shoved his tongue down my throat. I knew I was crying, tasting the salt in my mouth and trying to push him away when his . . . oh God, his hand lowered to my jeans.

I bit his tongue and pushed him away as hard as I could, covering myself from him and his disgusted eyes. What he did next shocked me. He looked genuinely surprised when he saw how terrified I was of him. He seemed to get out of his trance.

He stared at my tearful eyes and said that this was supposed to be a prank and that he didn’t mean any of it. Like yeah, groping someone and forcefully kissing them while they cried to get away is supposed to be a prank.

Dave Cooper and his friends are worthless pieces of shits. For doing this to me and God knows how many other girls they have pranked. I don’t know how many times I washed my face, hands and mouth trying to get rid of his touch and scent.

I realized that I can’t always be Jhansi Ki Rani.

I somehow got home without getting scared of any guy who walked past me. I apologize for not being there to take you home when you were discharged. I was too busy hating myself and my body.

I picked the blade. I won’t go into details, but yes, I cut myself. It was just in the moment when all the dark thoughts came. Like I said before, one step toward happiness and ten big steps backward into the darkness. You know it’s ironic how the voice in my head told me to cut myself but it was also the one who said that I am not alone just lonely.

I am such a crazy person to befriend that voice, aren’t I? Or was I too desperate for someone to feel my pain and understand it?