November 2, 2011
Dear Diary,
After what seemed like only a few minutes, I and Nancy bumped into each other on my way in, Apparently Nancy had come to find me, her voice full of excitement as she pulled me aside. "Damn, girl! You're so lucky. That is one hot piece of hunk. How do you always manage to get the hottest guys?" Her words echoed in my ears, but I barely registered them. I could still feel the warmth of his hand on mine, the way he had looked at me like he knew something I didn't, there was a look of fondness, a lingering warmth, who knew a decent looking guy like that was a monster, involved in sex cult, but then again my behaviour had been questionable and my dress was very scanty, it was little wonder the thought i was a slut.
But Nancy's words broke through my daze. He wasn't just any hot guy. I think he's one of them, one of the guys from the pool that night. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and before I could stop myself, I blurted it out. "Nancy, I think he's one of them."
The reaction I got from her was nothing short of shocking. First she appeared momentarily disoriented, then she hit me on the face, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to jolt me out of my spiraling thoughts. Then she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me until my whole body rattled and my hair became a jagged mess. "What did I tell you about smiling brightly no matter the situation?" she hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Nancy, please" I started, but she cut me off.
"That night never happened, Leila," she spat, her voice low and dangerous. "It's something you should bury forever. What do you think you're going to tell him? That he drugged and raped you? Come on, Leila, can't you see how this all boils down to your erratic state? Snap out of it. He's a stranger. If he's really an evil jerk who sleeps around with unsuspecting teenage girls, he's already had his wicked way with you. You're conquered territory. So why would he come back to you? So that he can get caught or arrested?"
I wanted to argue, to tell her that I wasn't confused, that I knew what I had seen. But the words wouldn't come. My throat felt like it was closing up, and all I could do was stand there as Nancy's words washed over me, each one a cold, hard slap of reality.
"You were high, Leila. You probably weren't seeing clearly, and it was dark. Even if you could convince us because we're best friends that he was the one, the fact still remains that nobody else would believe you. Moreover, the only proof you had… Oh, let me think about it. Yes, I remember you got rid of it, like, eight months ago."
I felt a chill run down my spine. The "proof" she was referring to was the baby I had aborted, the tiny life that had been snuffed out before it even had a chance to begin. I had tried to forget, to push the memory of that clinic and the cold, sterile room out of my mind. But now, it all came rushing back, and with it, a fresh wave of guilt and shame.
Nancy's grip on my shoulders tightened, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Who do you want to drag down with you? How would you even explain your access to the drugs? Or the fact that you had an abortion without any trace or record? Do you want to ruin my dad's pharmaceutical company and everything he's ever worked for?"
I looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of the friend I used to know, the girl who had held my hand and cried with me when I first told her what had happened. But all I saw now was fear,fear of what could happen if the truth came out, fear of losing everything she held dear. And in that moment, I realized that Nancy wasn't just trying to protect me; she was trying to protect herself, her family, her future.
"Don't be a selfish little bitch, Leila," she snapped, her words slicing through me like a knife. "Let it slide. Uncovering the past is only going to draw in unnecessary attention that we won't be able to salvage."
My mind was reeling, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and pain. She was right, if I tried to dig up the past, it would only bring trouble. But how could I just let it go? How could I pretend that nothing had happened when every time I looked at him, I was reminded of that night?
Nancy must have seen the hesitation in my eyes because she quickly pressed on. "He could deny you two ever met, and a word from him could ruin you. He could even sue you for defamation of character. Snap out of it, Leila. You're confusing him with someone else because of his looks. That's all this is."
I wanted to believe her, to accept the easy explanation she was offering. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. I hadn't imagined what happened. I hadn't confused him with someone else. But what could I do? I was trapped, stuck between the truth and the impossible reality of trying to prove it.
Nancy sighed, her tone softening just a fraction. "Right now, you're going to go back in there and do whatever he tells you to do. Do you understand me? And try to act a bit normal if you still have any hope of hanging out with us or convincing your parents that you're not losing it."
Her words left me feeling hollow, defeated. I didn't want to go back in there, didn't want to face him again. But what choice did I have? I nodded numbly, the fight drained out of me. Nancy finally released her grip, giving me a look of warning before turning away.
I smoothed my hair as best I could, trying to pull myself together before reentering the party. But no matter how much I tried to compose myself, the gnawing fear and uncertainty refused to leave me.
Back inside, the music was pounding, the lights flashing, and everyone around me seemed to be having the time of their lives. But I felt like I was floating in a nightmare, detached from everything and everyone. My heart raced as I approached him, the man who had turned my world upside down. I forced myself to smile, even though it felt like my face would crack under the strain.
He looked at me as I approached, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry for my rude behavior earlier," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn't feeling well."
He studied me for a moment, then smiled a slow, calculating smile that made my stomach churn. "Apology accepted," he said, his tone smooth and almost charming. "But you'll have to make it up to me. How about a dance?"
I didn't want to dance with him. I didn't want to be near him at all. But what choice did I have? I nodded, and he took my hand, leading me onto the dance floor. The music was loud, the bass thumping in my chest, but all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.
As we danced, memories began to flood back memories I had tried so hard to bury. The way he had looked at me that night, the way his hands had felt on my skin, the sense of helplessness that had consumed me. I tried to push them away, to focus on the present, but it was no use. They were too powerful, too overwhelming.
I stumbled, my foot catching on the edge of the dance floor, but he caught me before I could fall. "Careful," he murmured, his voice close to my ear. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I forced myself to focus, to keep up with the rhythm of the music. But it was impossible. My mind was spinning, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move, and it made my skin crawl.
I tripped again, my ankle twisting awkwardly, but once more, he was there to steady me, his grip firm and unyielding. "You're a bit off tonight," he observed, his tone almost mocking. "Is something on your mind?"
I wanted to scream, to tell him exactly what was on my mind, but I knew better. Instead, I forced another smile, shaking my head. "Just tired, I guess."
He didn't respond, just continued to guide me through the dance, his hands moving with an ease and confidence that only heightened my discomfort. I felt like a puppet, my strings being pulled by someone else, my movements no longer my own.
Finally, the song ended, and I took a step back, desperate for some distance between us. "Thank you for the dance," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray the fear I was feeling.
He smiled again, that same unsettling smile that sent ice through my veins. "Anytime," he replied, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and walked away.
I stood there for a few moments, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I tried to calm the panic rising within me. My mind was racing, my thoughts spinning out of control. How was I supposed to keep pretending? How was I supposed to just let it go, as Nancy had insisted? Everything inside me screamed that this wasn't right, that I couldn't keep living this lie.
But what could I do? I was trapped, cornered by my own fear and the impossible reality I was facing. I felt like I was drowning, and there was no one to pull me back to the surface.
I wandered aimlessly through the party, I didn't notice it , but at an unlit area, probably to give privacy for illegal activities, Leila was talking to Ethan, "She remembers, the memories are vivid, I tried my best to convince her that shes, spiralling out of control or maybe hallucinating but we have to be careful for now, about the ritual, have you gotten word from court?". They are excited of course but there are no positive results, let's give it time, If it doesn't work we would have to work with option B.
It better work Nancy, all this cannot be for nothing, you were the one that insisted she lives as she is our only hope incase all else fail, I told you she had to die that night but you insisted on saving her. Rage pure and unadulterated flowed through Ethan's vein, his jaw ticked , turning on his heel he walked off, because the situation was as much his fault as hers and he needed Nancy rational, she had a knack of destroying things out of anger and he didn't want her ruining their only chance of saving their species from extinction.