The Rest of my Story

I grabbed my jeans and put them on then ran out to the living room. I was shaking uncontrollably, I fell onto the couch I remember blinking my eyes like a million times, I don't know what good I thought that'd do for me but apparently I thought it'd make it all go away. The feeling of shock mixed with fear was incredible. I couldn't sleep, I didn't know what to do. If I left, I wouldn't know where to go or who to go to. What if he found me walking the streets? What if I find someone just like him? People say "you could have went to police" ... How could I trust anyone. How could I even think clearly to even think to go to police? His mom was right there. She heard me scream like something out of a scary movie. My fricken life turned into a scary movie. She just stayed in her room, ignoring it all. A mom. A mom hearing a 16 year old baby scream for help. What a piece of shit. So no, I couldn't try anybody, still don't know if I can. I can't stop thinking of how I felt like the worlds biggest whore. Just a slut being treated as one. It never occured to me prior to this that people did something to people so twisted. I never ever thought things like this happend. It's disgusting. It left me feeling disgusting. To this day I'd like to rip my skin completely off of my body, burn it, and walk away skinless looking as sick as I feel. I don't mean to be so twisted, but when twisted things happen to you, you're mind as well becomes sick. I try to steer clear of feeling those ways and becoming a twisted person. Back to my story. I somehow managed to sleep, I don't remember how, but I woke up in the morning to find a shirt he laid across my body that said "I'm with the drummer." He was a drummer in the band. How fucked up. To this day I cannot process that in my mind. I just can't. Did he really thing he owned me? He couldn't have. Who could think that? You don't treat someone like that and then think you own them. You don't. I'm not a slave to your sick desires or something to unleash your anger on, you don't own me. He doesn't own me. Later that day, Aaron and the rest of the band was coming over to practice, Aaron knew my mom was looking for me and Daryl didn't want anyone to find me so he came to me and said I needed to hide. I just looked at him disgusted. He said we need to come up with a story to tell Aaron. I gave him the same look. Anyways, Aaron ended up coming, and finding me. I was afraid to leave with him. In my mind I was thinking if I left with him, Daryl would be mad, if he was mad who knows what would happen to me or Aaron. Or, if I left with Aaron what if he attacks me too? What if his girlfriend lets him? But I knew I couldn't stay there. Not if I had any chance in hell of saving myself. I pulled Aaron aside and whispered to him that I wanted to get out of there but I'm afraid that Daryl will get mad. Aaron was pissed off about Daryl not telling anyone he had me. so he told me to pack my things and he stormed away and went in the kitchen to Daryl. They were yelling at eachother but trying to keep quiet. I was scared to death. The shaking never completely stopped since it happend, but it intensified as I was packing my things listening to them yell. Anyways, I got out. I eventually got home. To find my mom sick, I didn't even recognize her. She was nearly dead, she hadn't eaten, barely slept. She was so pale. Lost so much weight. I'd never seen her or anyone except for a dead person at a funeral look so sick. I really hated seeing my mom that distressed, upset, sick, worried, hopeless.