Nothing will clean him off after what had happened. A second part to When I look in the mirror i don't like what i see'. Rate review please!!!
He lay there rigid, shaking which was accompanied by a cold sweat. He brushed his clammy hand against his ribs that seemed to show up under his skin more every minute. He was getting thinner ever second yet he was still not clean.
Abandoning any attempt to slip back into a more peaceful sleep Gerard began to make sense of what had happened at the start of the month that had made him so polluted…
‘So you comin’ to the party tonight then? Carla might be there, ya never know you might be in for a bit of action if ya know what I mean’
‘Shut it Jake I’m not gonna be like some of those guys in school that just fuck her and leave her’
‘Yeah sure man’ Jake smirked unbelieving to Gerard’s claim
‘What? I won’t’
‘Ha whateva’ you say… I’m sure once ya drunk it will be a different story’
‘Yeah, yeah, fuck off, see you at nine, yeah?’
‘See ya man’
They both departed to go there separate way home, Gerard left with a flutter in his heart excited that he might get a chance even just to speak with Carla.
Once at the party though he felt different, insecure, and shy almost like he wanted to shrink away in a corner unnoticed. Jake’s house was filled with people. He had always been popular. Gerard spotted the table with alcohol on and slowly walked over to grab a beer hoping it would chill him out a bit or at least make him a bit more confident. Suddenly someone put him in a headlock.
‘Hey man you made it’
‘Jake lemme go’
Jake loosened his grip and they both exchanged friendly punches on the arm, ‘so you seen Carla anywhere?’
‘Not yet Gee, no. Stick around a bit she might turn up. Anyways there’s a group of ladies in the Garden who I’m getting’ quite fond of. Feel free to join us’
Gerard looked around for anyone else he knew but there was no one. He sat himself down on the couch trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. He had grabbed himself a few more drinks with the hope that it might give him the courage to go outside and join Jake with the girls. Or maybe start a conversation with someone else in the room.
After a while Gerard noticed someone was staring at him, feeling uneasy he looked out of the living room window trying to avert the other persons gaze. But this only left him feeling more self- conscious than ever. He tried to look at the guy who was staring at him without him noticing. He looked about the same age as him. He was rugged and handsome. There was something quite alluring yet almost gothic about his appearance.
Gerard turned his head to face the stranger and gave him a small smile; Gerard noticed that the other guy had obviously been drinking a lot too by the large amount of empty beer bottles next to his feet. Likewise he was clearly trying to remain unobtrusive.
Gerard took notice of the increasingly uncomfortable feeling the stranger’s fixed gaze was giving him. He tried to look casual about leaving the room but in the back of his mind he was sure that the stranger knew it was because he felt awkward. He climbed the stairs almost hurriedly to go to the bathroom. A lingering fear made his heart start thumping instantaneously.
Filling the sink he splashed water on his face in hope that it's coldness would wash away the feeling of foreboding that the strangers glare had provoked.
Taking a few deep breaths Gerard slowly opened the bathroom door dreading to go downstairs knowing that he would probably be caught within the stranger’s eagle like eyes again.
Gerard’s heart made a fleeting change in momentum when before him stood the stranger. He pushed Gerard back on to the bathroom floor while at the same time locking the bathroom door behind him. He panicked, yet he could not move. He was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t cry, nor scream for assistance.
Everything seemed to slow down. He zoned out. His hearing seemed to vanish. He could only feel the outright agony that penetrated every part of his body as the stranger made a helpless victim of him. In that one horrific act the stranger stole everything. His freedom, his body, his very soul and with each excruciating thrust the stranger made into his body Gerard felt his dignity slowly being hacked away at.
He must have passed out for a while because when he looked at the bathroom clock it was quarter to twelve. Unless the act that was unleashed on him lasted almost two and a half hours he must have been unconscious. All his muscles including his heart pulsed with pain. Struggling to stand he made his way over to the toilet and vomited violently from the shock that was still taking hold of him. Gerard stumbled to the mirror to look at himself. He was half naked and his thighs were masked in bruises. His face was untouched, he felt utterly anesthetized. He was empty. He didn’t feel sad nor angry or even shocked anymore. No tears spilled from his eyes.
He grabbed his jeans that were crumpled up next to the door. He pulled them on with difficulty for his legs felt as if they had been pelted with rocks. With every slight movement a dull ache ran through them.
He walked over to the door and touched the handle and in doing so he was bombarded with terror. What would be on the other side of the door? What if the stranger was still there? Adrenaline rushed through his body. He flung open the door and ran down the stairs ignoring the pain in his legs. He fumbled with the catch and handle on the front door of the house and ran into the street. He kept sprinting all the way home, ignoring everything, the harshness of the wind the fact his legs felt as if any minute they would crumble below him.
Once at the front door of his house he composed himself enough so he could convince his parents that the party was great and the reason he looked so pale was because he was tired. He entered the living room where his parents were sitting.
‘Did you have a good time sweetie? Asked his Mom smiling.
‘Uh, yeah, it was…cool, I‘ll talk to you ‘bout it in the morning yeah? I’m gonna go bed now though. Night, Mom, night Dad’.
Gerard didn’t even look at his Dad. He couldn’t it was too much of a risk. His Dad would easily pick up even the slightest hint of anxiety in his voice’
He went downstairs and into his on-suit bathroom and turned on the shower. While it warmed up he stripped off his clothes and stared at his beaten and bruised body. Each black and blue contusion made him look dirty. He felt dirty, like each cell of his body had been infected with a filthy poison that had permanently imbedded itself into every infinitesimal bit of him.
He opened the shower door and got in letting the hot water trickle down him. He grabbed a bar of soap and examined its smooth surface for a moment and then he began violently scrubbing every area of him until his flesh was almost raw. He turned the shower up to the hottest it would go and sank to the floor of the shower letting the soap slip from his hand and there he sat, bitterly crying. While he mouthed silently between whimpers ‘just not clean, just not clean’ repeatedly to himself.
Gerard rolled over and pushed his face into the pillow to hide the sound of his sobbing. He wished he could forget it. He wished he could go to sleep and cease to see the light of day again. Inside his head the cold hard phrase’ just not clean’ screamed yet didn’t pass his lips. He pulled his duvet all around him and hugged himself in order to stop himself from shaking.
Over the past few weeks he had kept everything inside of him and he was determined to still do so. He couldn’t worry his Mom and Dad or even Mikey that would be just cruel of him, to unload his troubles onto them. He couldn’t tell the police about how he was made a victim by another male. They would probably laugh at him and wonder why he didn’t just fight him off or cry for help. He couldn’t tell Jake, he would probably laugh at him too by finding out that his first time was with a guy that he didn’t even know even if he, himself hadn’t wanted it to happen. There was no- one, no-one in the world except maybe the darkness that surrounded him at night which he could whisper his heartache too and mutter ‘just not clean’ as if it would make a difference and by repeating it continuously he would magically be purified. But no. A dirt like that never washes off, no matter how much you scour, scrub, or scrape at it. Suicide, yes, suicide was the only disinfectant to ever deem him unsoiled like he had been before the stranger had ruined him- raped him.
A/N: Please rate and or review this. Please feel free to constructivley critisize as much as you like. I, myself am super proud of the story. It took me an hour and a half to write!!