Morana

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"What really is so special about him?" Dereck said. His voice somewhat drawling, and I opened my eyes. Before I had time to properly process what he had said, he continued. "He's just average. There's nothing special about him."

My head caught up, but it did not like what it heard for more than one reason. A major reason was the fact that Dereck was unkind to Alejo, but the other part of it was that what he said made it impossible for me to close my eyes to his feelings anymore.

I had done my best over the past month to not read in too much into Dereck's attitude towards Alejo. Tried to keep telling myself that Dereck only viewed me as a friend. But I could not keep up pretending to not know.

"He just shows up out of nowhere and suddenly he's the only one in your life," Dereck went on and I began shaking my head. Both to make him stop talking and to get rid of the obvious fact that he wanted to be more than friends with me.

Then my mind processed more of the current situation. I had my back against the arm of the couch, my legs pulled up to my chest. Dereck sat facing me, so close I could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the drunken glassiness in his eyes. So close that his chest almost touched my legs. What did touch me was his hand. It was under the skirt of my dress. Against my thigh.

I wanted to move away, get off the couch. But an icy feeling spread through my body that made me unable to move.

"And you've always been so private, but you're different with him. I've known you longer, why aren't you like that with me?" His words were slurred, and he reached a hand out to cup my cheek.

"Stop it," I mumbled and shook my head. To escape his words. To escape his touch. But either Dereck didn't hear me, didn't see me, or he didn't care.

"How far have you gone with him? Has he fucked you yet?" His voice was stronger and steadier. His hand wasn't on my thigh anymore, but up and on my waist.

"Stop," I said again, my voice a little louder.

"Was he good? Is that it?"

Dereck moved and forced my legs apart with his upper body. His hand, that wasn't under my clothes, went around my back to pull me to him. I placed my hands on his chest to push him away. But the force behind the push seemed to be too little for him to even notice.

The glassiness in his eyes was gone. Instead, they had gotten dark and hungry and wicked, and I knew what that look meant. 

My heart pounded, and I wanted to resist, wanted to scream. But the ice was in my whole body, my mouth parched, and my head repeated the same sentence over and over:

This isn't happening.

"Give me a chance," Dereck muttered before he pressed his lips against mine.

My body was still frozen, and my mind tried to deny it all as the scent of alcohol filled my nostrils. Dereck kept pressing his lips towards mine, his tongue was out, it licked and pressed, tried to open my lips. Then a sharp pain came as he bit my lower lip.

"Relax and give me a chance, Morana," he whispered into my ear, causing nausea that had nothing to do with that I had been drinking. "I promise you'll like it."

That comment finally made me unfreeze. I pushed and hit at his chest, tried to wriggle myself out of his grip.

"Let go!" I screamed at him. But his hold only tightened. He pushed me down, so I was on my back on the couch, he towered over me.

I was trapped, barely able to breathe, not able to move. He brought my arms over my head and held them there in an iron grip. My legs were under his, making it impossible for me to kick.

"Just relax and enjoy it," he told me again.

I surrendered. I knew he was much stronger than me and there was no way I would manage to get him off me. And I had been assaulted in various ways throughout my life, and I had learned it usually was over much faster if I didn't resist. Already that first time when I had been thirteen, the boys who had verbally and physically assaulted me had stopped when I had stopped struggling, obviously having lost interest as soon as I didn't fight back. 

So I closed my eyes and tried to shut my brain off from what was happening. Tried to find something else to occupy it with. For a moment, I tried to meditate like Alejo had taught me, but that proved impossible. Instead, my mind ended up thinking of Alejo, wishing he was there, that he would show up and pull Dereck off me and then take me far, far away from there.

But he wouldn't. He had no idea what was happening, and I had no way of telling him. I was alone. Like always. Alone with pain and hurt and struggles. No one to rely on. No one that would care or help.

Alone.

A hissing sound started. Several voices, though also just one, hissing in anger. I recognized the voices and felt relief. It was the voices from my dreams, the voices that belonged to the black thread that was tangled with my magic. I had no idea why I heard them then and there, but it was a comfort. I wasn't alone anymore. They were there, and they had come for my sake.

Their hissing sounded like words, but I could not make out the words. That didn't matter though. I paid attention to them. Let their presence comfort and strengthen me as their noises grew in volume. Until it wasn't a low hissing anymore, but a loud scream of fury.

I wasn't alone. I had help. As long as they stayed, I would never be alone, never be without help.

I slowly opened my eyes again and to my surprise, I saw Dereck looking down at me in fear. He was frozen in mid-action with one hand up my skirt. The only part of him that moved was his lower lip, which trembled.

Then, without a word, he straightened up and off me, and before I had time to react, he had disappeared from the room.

The voices had gone with him. I was the only one left.

I laid back and closed my eyes, tried not to feel but also only able to keep the avalanche of emotions within me at bay with a thin layer of ice which could break at any moment. So I focused on rational and practical thoughts. Thinking about that was safe. They didn't contain any emotions. Nothing which could make me break.

The first was that I had to get out of there.

When that decision had properly formed, I slowly sat up again and opened my eyes. The corset was askew from my body and I corrected it as best I could, but it had been torn. It made leaving the club on my own problematic. I would have to hold on to the corset to not have it risk falling, and if anyone bumped into me, I would probably lose the grip.

So next I put my hand into a pocket of my skirt. Thankfully, my phone was still there. I lit the screen and saw it wasn't even eleven yet. Alejo had told me he wouldn't have to be at the coven until just a little before midnight, meaning he should still be home.

I swiped the screen, and it asked me for my pin code. I lifted my hand to press the numbers and only then did I notice how it shook.

After having pressed the wrong number three times, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Tried to will myself to stop shaking.

It didn't help.

Thirteen mistakes later, the phone was finally open. And another nine miss clicks followed before I pressed the phone to my ear as I called Alejo.

"What's up?" he answered, after only two signals, with a cheerful voice.

I opened my mouth to answer, but his voice had broken the ice which had kept the avalanche in check. All emotions poured out. I felt hurt and betrayed. Sad and angry. Dirty and pathetic. Dereck had been my friend. We had laughed and had fun together just an hour earlier. Why had he done that? Why had he destroyed our friendship? What about me was it that made people do hurtful things?

"What's wrong?" came Alejo's next question filled with concern when I didn't say anything.

I opened my mouth to answer, but not a word came out. I didn't know how to tell him. What would he say? What would he think? Would he look at me differently?

"Did he hurt you?" he asked in anger.

I tried to answer again. That time, the tears, which had been silent, became a sob and the only answer I managed to give.

"Are you still at the club?" Alejo continued.

I nodded as my crying became uncontrollable, to the point of making it hard for me to breathe.

"Fuck," Alejo mumbled. "It's okay. You don't need to say anything. Stay on the phone, alright? Just gonna scry for you and then I'm coming."

I nodded again and though my own crying covered most noises, I could hear Alejo move around on the other side.

"Okay, can you tell me if you're inside or outside the club?" came his next question after a minute.

I did my best to tell him, to form just that one word, but I couldn't get and keep enough air in my lungs to make words.

"Alright, I'll try if I can get straight to you anyway. But stay on the phone in case I fail."

The next thing I heard was a popping sound, and I turned my head towards it.

He stood in the middle of the room, his phone to his ear, but he slowly let it fall. His eyes were focused completely on me and they had an angry glare by the likes I'd never seen before, not on anyone. He looked like he was ready to go on a rampage and not care about who got hurt. It made my breathing falter a bit, and, though the anger was still there, his eyes soften slightly.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Alejo said in a voice of barely controlled rage.