It's been a week since that morning. I haven't slept in days, I haven't showered in days, I haven't left my room in days, I haven't eaten in days. I haven't talked to my parents, they come knocking on my door, disoriented about why I'm not talking to them, I just ask them to leave.

I feel so dirty, I feel so fucking dirty, my innocence was taken away without my consent. Or did I consent to it? It's my fucking fault for going out in a skirt at 5 AM. I was asking for it. Tears begin rolling down my cheeks, again, fucking again, I can't cry anymore. I need it to stop. It's all my fault.

Maybe if I didn't go out that day, maybe if I didn't plug in my headphones, maybe if I said stop, maybe if I fought back. I froze, I froze like an idiot. I cried so much my head hurts, it's a throbbing pain. I just can't do this anymore. I want to die.

I want to grab a fucking knife and end it, I don't care.

I hate everything, everyone, especially myself. I can't look in the mirror anymore, I feel weaker as the days go by. I haven't talked to my... Nicole and Louis since last week. My phone buzzed with so many notifications so I threw it against the wall. It doesn't work anymore.

I hear a knock on the door, again. Gosh, I need to be left alone.

"If you don't open the door today, we will break it," my dad yells and I put my head under the pillow, ignoring them.

They can do what the fuck they want. I don't care.

I have no idea what time it is anymore... my window is shut down and the dark curtains are covering any light coming from outside.

I take the scissors and I just wanna see my life end, I don't want to live like this, I feel like the worst human in this world. I need to end it.

But I'm a coward... so I just straight up cut random pieces of my hair, until I break down and cry again, again and again.

September, two months later

I'm starting school in a few hours, I don't even want to go but my parents forced me. They broke into my room last time, and they were shocked when they found my hair all over the floor, they said I looked so thin and they seemed deeply worried about me, they asked me what happened, why I was acting like this, while I didn't reply. They eventually left me alone. I didn't want to tell them anything, what would be the point? It already happened, it was my fault...

I know it was but I am scared to hear it from other people.

I don't want to see any of my classmates or no one. I'm better off alone. No one would understand me, I doubt they would even try.

Most of the day I still contemplate killing myself, how I would do it, when, if I should leave a note... the only thing stopping me from committing suicide is hurting my parents.

I look in the mirror, it took me months to gather the courage. I'm unrecognizable, I used to be pretty, or at least decent. My hair is so thin and almost shoulder-length, all choppy, falling off. I barely ate these months, I'm so scrawny, you can see my ribs pocking out through tight clothes, none of my clothes fit me. I have horrible dark circles, my eyes are sunken and red from crying every day. I still feel dirty, violated, worthless.

I take three showers a day, trying to feel less filthy. But I can't stand being naked, I feel disgusting, I feel as if it's about to happen again. My parents know something is wrong with me, but they know pressuring me isn't going to make me talk. I hear them argue or cry often, they don't know what to do with me anymore. They even offered me to talk to a counselor, I, again, didn't reply.

Although I tried to act normal around them these past days, I just need to be left alone, this is the only way.

I just put on some random clothes without even bothering to look normal, because it doesn't matter anymore. I bet everyone will be talking shit about me.

I brush my teeth even though I don't have any energy left to do basic things, and just get my backpack with hardly anything in it and slam the door.

I walk to school, but I take the long way so I don't have to go near that... street. I haven't gone there since July, I didn't even go to my job. Kaylee talked to my parents and they said I was going through some stuff and I couldn't work anymore.

I finally arrive at school and I immediately see James, this day couldn't get any worse...

He is chatting with some girls, the usual. His body language is always confident and flirty, he is so damn sure he has the whole world at his feet. I think no one cares enough to give him a wake-up call.

Usually, Nicole tries to talk to him at school but I don't see her anywhere near him. it seems as if Nicole stopped talking to him.

I walk towards the entrance and everyone is staring at me, it must be my hideous weight loss and hairstyle.

James looks at me and smirks. I hate him so fucking much, this jerk.

I get to my locker and put all the textbooks inside, my locker is near Nicole and Louis' ones. It's going to be very tough to ignore them.

I turn around and I see Nicole and Louis entering and laughing, they seem closer than ever. They instantly see me and stop laughing, staring at me confused. It's so awkward, so I turn around and pretend they aren't here. I can feel their gaze on me and their steps getting closer to me.

Oh, they go to their lockers.

"What happened to you, Veronica?" I hear Louis' voice full of worry and I turn around, trying to not look at him too much.

Flashbacks from that party come right back and I still can't believe how all that good time ended so abruptly. And my feelings are gone, I think.

I decide to ignore him, close my locker, and try to walk past him but he slightly grabs my arm, which triggers me right away. I haven't had someone touch me since that... that... my eyes fill with tears and I try so hard to not let them roll on my cheeks, I harshly free myself from his hold and run away to the bathroom.

Some girls are chatting about random stuff I don't give a shit about, and I go into the toilet stall, they stop talking and just leave the bathroom. I begin crying uncontrollably, remembering every little detail.

"You like that, whore?" that hideous man says as he goes rougher and rougher.

I have flashbacks of this every single day, I sometimes remember details I repressed that day.

I know I saw his face, but I can't seem to remember it, I don't want to remember him. Maybe this way I can pretend it didn't happen.

But it did.

I try to not think about it, but I start whimpering, I cover my mouth with my hands trying to suppress the crying. I feel dirty again.

I lay down on the unclean floor and stare at the wall for what feels like an hour.

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