The first bout of pain came when he penetrated my inner walls,going as deep as his small thing would allow. His hands gripping my shoulders tightly; be sure to leave an unwanted mark in the morning. He groaned, sounding pleased with himself, with the little he had managed to accomplished this night. Pumping away like if trying to reach an unprecedented world best, he grunts directly, continuously in my ears, penetrating the air, disturbing any comfort I tried to seek in my mind. Any solace that was worth finding at this moment. The thought to help myself crossed my mind, reaching down to find the natural release that came from one's creative touch. As my right hand reach down, my two fingers set to do what he could never do, he reached, grabbing my hands and holding it above my head tightly before he accomplished his ultimate goal, grunting so Ioud as he did so. With that, he fell on top of my body. All sweaty and sticky. His foul body odour perceived by my nose as the last of this night's torture.

Raising his bald head slightly after suffocating me for nearly a minute, grinning widely like the madman that he is. Absolute scorn could be seen in his yellowed teeth, mocking lines accompanying his grin. He finally went and did it. I grimaced as I pushed him with the much needed force off me, the bed dipping heavily from his weight, his breathing still coming out in pants and weasels. Even a dog who ran the length of the World wouldn't be breathing this hard. I feared he might breathe his last, but it will be so much better for me if that were to happen. It will erase a little of this night's memory because as I laid, my eyes focusing on the ceiling,I realized I didn't know a thing.

I didn't know if I could go through the next day. If I could fight the mental torture that will surely come. If this will be what finally breaks me, that's if I'm not already broken. Like a fine china that fell from the slimy hands of fate, breaking into different glassy pieces. The sad thing isn't the glass wear broken into different pieces but those slimy hands that felt it could shape and reshape as it saw fit, picking up those pieces. Fixing it up until it looks like a beautiful abnormality.

If I get through the next, what about the other and the next, the days never seems to end, doesn't end. But, I won't be in this creeps bed and debate my life, I won't be here for him to see the tears circling my eyes, it will just egg his person on.

Dragging the bedsheets so it wraps around my body, I stand up and reach for my clothes which were hanging on the chair by the corner of the room.

"Stay the night", he purred, propping himself up with those meaty arms of his.

He doesn't know? He doesn't know how hearing those croaked voice of his rumbles my stomach. How seeing him in any form bring the worst kind of bile up my throat. I don't bother with a reply. Silently, I wear my top and grabbed my handbag.

With my back facing him, I asked, "I've done my part...right?

"Yes you have. With your previous whining, one will think you don't enjoy..."

I do not wait for him to finish saying whatever that was coming out from his mouth. His words were another torture I couldn't bear to face this night. So, with shaking feet, wobbly knees, I left the room, banging the door hard on my way out; my only reprieve.

The receptionist held a firm stare to my face as my feet took me past the lobby, her stern wrinkled face didn't bother to hide those narrowed eyes. It followed me till I was outside the hotel lounge, outside to the pouring rain which was already drenching my clothes. Everything was plotting against me today; no rest. Holding my bag above my head, I race towards the bus terminal.

My cramped apartment never felt more comfortable than at this moment; this night. As my *** melted into the couch, I signed. After some minutes of hearing only my heart pounding an uneven beat against my chest, my body move to turn on the tv– not that I am watching anything in particular, but a little noise is necessary. Here was beginning to feel like a graveyard.

As for tiny apartments, mine is no different, to describe it is a hassle as there is not much, it's three rooms: the living room, the bedroom and the bathroom–which I really needed to use right now.

Walking across the living room, I open the bathroom and slide in. At this moment, the water will be at zero degrees but I could care less. I have to wash it all out. Try to wash out his disgusting smell, his trace, his mark. With the shower pouring out water, cold as presumed, I strip for a different purpose tonight. Going into the shower sink, the water wastes no time in punishing me, drenching me right till it was bone- chilling. I don't run, I welcome it. This pain more bearable that what I've faced, what I will overcome.

Grabbing a sponge and a shampoo, I began scrubbing. Scrubbing my hands; he touched me there, my arms, my waist. Until my body began to feel sore and red, I didn't stop. At this point I could differentiate between what was water and what was my tears. It just came rushing, needing none of my permission, I being too weak to refuse it. I turn my face away from the shower head as tears poured, my mouth tasting it's salty pleas, my face being washed by it. I couldn't believe it, I said I wouldn't cry, so why was it flowing freely?Why?

Using both hands, I grabbed my face shaking it to avoid my brain reminding me why the tears came. I don't want to go back there. To that hotel room, to that son of b*tch. I sobbed loudly. The water has become slate, I couldn't feel the chills anymore, the goosebumps has come for a different reason entirely. My brain didn't listen, it did as it wish, returning back to few minutes ago, bringing it to my eyes as my whole body shivered.

My jaw hung open as I froze. The bastard couldn't have? God no! I opened my eyes looking around, hands now around my mouth, trying now to remember.

"Oh no! Please no! I can't go from the frying pan to the fire".

I realized just now, he went raw.

Was this my end? How could I have forgotten? The most important thing I decided to forget. What made me not realize this?

There was actually a number of things that made my brain to entirely forget: his disgusting smell, his disgusting smile, his disgusting body, his disgusting shape. How I wanted that disgusting night to be over before it really began. There was quite a number of reasons and almost all began with disgusting. I put my hand in my mouth, biting my fingers(one of my many flaws;I don't try to correct it). This revelation has now amplified my stress, my anxiety. My pain. I had let this mistake happen and now it could define my whole life. I will have to go to the hospital first to check for any sexually transmitted disease. That slug of a man better not have any.

Second agenda will be buying a pregnancy kit. That will not happen. It can't happen. Any sexually transmitted disease (apart from HIV), will be better than been pregnant. That may be what will finally crush all my broken pieces into dust. So it can't be....

"Are you okay?".

I shriek. Turning towards the voice, I signed dramatically. It was Mitchell.

"You have been out. Like you are on another plane, a different place. Are you okay?" Worried lines etched on her face. Her eyes trying to see my insides.

"I am okay", I assured her with a chuckle, looking everywhere but at her. "Everything is ok.I kinda just dose off. Girl I am really tired".

That was an obvious lie but she doesn't comment on that fact, choosing instead to nod her head, her mouth jutting out like a fish for a moment before facing her business.

I don't even remember why I am here or how I got here. I have been on a daze for way too long. I have been real lucky as I am not dead yet. Because as I said, I have no idea how I got here. Did I trek or use a taxi? My eyes scanned my surroundings quickly, everyone was busy at their desk typing away on their Laptops. At my own desk, my laptop sat idly, peering at me suspiciously for a while. I closed it with the required force; I didn't need any more judgemental stare especially from a machine. Stretching my muscles, I signed ( I seems to do that much: signing), I can't be blamed.

Where was I? I'm at my work place. You know, the place I starve and strife daily just to get a tip. I am an editor at Racks. It is an online magazine which has no main focus, it covers every topic. From which celebrity did what, to the average man's activity. Everything and every somebody's news(that's what they write on the ads).

I have to go now though, I realize. I have to make an appointment to see the doctor at the general hospital before going home to know my fate.

"Let today turn out ok", I mumble a prayer. It doesn't really work; my prayers. But I say it to reassure myself in some ways. Because I still hope for sunny days, nights with stars aligned perfectly. I still hope for light at the end of my dark tunnel. Because if I don't hope, If I decide to lose hope, to fling it across the tile floor, to stop those foolish fantasies from swarming my tiny head, then it's over. It means giving up on life. It means DEATH. So that's why I pray, that's why I go through life trying to hold on.

I get up. Packing my belonging, I wave a quick goodbye to Mitchell who looks at me weirdly. I don't care. Before I leave, I drop by my supervisor office, giving a quick excuse to the woman, not waiting for her reply before I am rushing out, my breath coming out in huffs and puffs.

The tv blares in the background. I was getting comfy on my sofa in my leggings and big brown Tee shirt which has the words Mental health is real written on it. Thankfully, I didn't contact any sexually transmitted disease, so that's a relief. Today at the hospital, in the Doctor's cozy office which I learnt his name to be Dr. Cyprus, my heart was beating all sounds of unhealthy rhymes. I felt I was going to faint or die from delirium as the large man of a Doctor sitting on his large office chair looked at my file pensively. Then he gave me a strained smile before handing me my test results and breaking the good news to me. My heart finally calmed down. I noticed the doctor face whether resting or in motion was pensive and moody and super scary. He should really find another profession before he kills some one with a heart attack.

The test came out all negative but it now remains the other elephant in the room. I held the pregnancy test kit in my shaking hands, cold sweats breaking out. I didn't know if I could go through with this.This was like a big thing about to go down, so don't blame me if I had no courage to go into that bathroom. I sat on my sofa for some minutes, scrolling through channel absently before I decided to do it. Picking up the kit, I rose up with vigour and began a dread filled journey to the bathroom. I did a calming breathing technique with my hands on the doorknob of the bathroom, fingers crossed, I entered.

Five minutes gone, I observed. Some one was at my entrance door, knocking. I opened the door to see a delivery man with apparently a delivery box which I had no clue what's in it as I made no order.

"Delivery for a Miss Richard, is that you ma'am?" He inquires.

"Who sent it? I didn't make any orders", I wondered."

" Ma'am if I were psychic I wouldn't be doing this job", the mailman taunts, irritation etched in his voice. Bringing out a clipboard, he mummers,"Sign here and take your delivery".

The man was clearly holding onto an internal rage or something I didn't care to know about, so I didn't talk to him as much again, only doing the necessaries. Opening the box in a rush, I peered inside to see the contents, it was an underwear with a letter besides it. I grabbed the letter opening it with apprehension. The handwriting was familiar, it wrote,

"The night was great my girl. So sad you had to leave. I hope you are aware— there will surely be a next time. Love, Mr. P.

I broke into a cold sweat, suddenly grabbing the box and puking heavily inside. Staggering up I went to check the result of the test, an earnest prayer on my lips. I couldn't bear to see that man again or have any thing related to him. I brought the test kit up to my face, tears in my eyes, blinding my vision.

My name is Felicity Nox. I am 25 years old living a god forsaken life and I am thankfully not pregnant.

"So why have you not been answering my call? Give me one good reason before I beat you up right here", my best friend playfully inquired.

"I haven't seen any of your calls, so stop with the lies and I have busy lately", I say, trying the hardest to keep up with her good humor; failing miserably.

"Busy with what exactly?" Frida wonders, glancing up at me before picking up her ice cold green tea and taking a huge gulp.

She drinks this stuff: green tea, ever since I got to know her and that has been many years ago. It helps in reducing weight, she claims but then she goes the rest of the day eating like a starved pig. I tried several times to tell her that's not how it works but one can't just reverse the eating habit another was brought up with, so I say my part enough to not have a headache and watch her. Well, you won't call her fat, she is more like plump, so that's saying a lot about her good metabolism.

"You know my job, which I have. My family is in debt and it's up to me to fix it", I remind her on a subject she is very well aware of.

"That's has always been your trump card. Any invasive question you flash out that card like if we haven't heard it a million times. We support you so stop always acting like you are carrying the whole world on your shoulders, before you break".

"Maybe I am already breaking", I mumbled as she finished her epilogue.

"What?" She says, slurping her drink noisily, while making heavy eye contact.(I hate it when she does that).

"When is Ada going to be here?" I asks instead, changing the topic. Resting my tired slim hands heavily on the rectangular table, I look around the small shop to see if I can catch her warm presence. No such luck yet.

We were currently in a cafe waiting for Ada. She asked for us to meetup at this particular cafe as she very, very, recently just got married and we sadly couldn't make it to the wedding as it was in South-Africa. My reasons were as clear as water as my obvious lack of funds and my demanding job, Frida's reasons were ridiculous and stupid.

“She will be here",Frida assures me. "I can't really believe Ada has gotten married, she never seems serious with anything especially her relationships".

I nod my head in agreement because it was the truth. Ada had never seem like the one who dreams of settling down.Not that she dates many men or something like that, she is just a free spirit. Someone who didn't want to be caged down by something as outdated as marriage or by rules; I know this because she is pretty vocal about this kind of stuff. But, she went and did it. I don't want to say this but, she is a big hypocrite. After all the bad blood between her and marriage because of what she witnessed with her parents and all that, she went and got married. And, she wasn't even in her late 20's. I guess her beliefs were not that strong.

Luckily, we didn't have to wait for that long as the bell chimes and in walks Ada. She walks up to us with a wide grin on her pretty face, showcasing rows of perfectly straight teeth.

I grin back and wave a little because her pretty smile is so infectious.

She is gorgeous. Wearing a short strapless light green dress that looks so good on her with suede boots and lots of jewelries. She was practically glowing. Her wavy brown hair bounce with every step she takes and I feel so happy to see her. It has been like two weeks since she went to South-Africa for her wedding preparation and I have missed her a lot. Her smile is practically the highlight of my day(did I just say that?)

She takes a chair besides us and giggles loudly. Frida having no patience, launching into a series of over-hyper questions, "How did it go? Is he with you? What happened on your day? Are you happy with that man?

I don't ask. I calm myself down, because if I don't, I will lunged her right now and probably kiss her; that's how much I've missed her. But because I've calmed down to think probably, I don't do that but I know my eyes portray my intents. I missed my chance.

"Guys can you believe it?" Ada shrills happily. "Because I can't", she continues, her eyes moon shaped, placing her hand which houses a small shinning rock on her chest.

"We also can'ttt", Frida tells her plaintively. "And I mean with him of all people".

"What about him?" Ada asks with impatience, the question clearly agitating her.

"Nothing is wrong with him", I assure her, placing my hands on top hers while I give Frida my best glare.

Franklin. That's the name of Ada's husband and my friend here, Frida, doesn't have the best of relationship with him.

Since Ada started dating the man and introduced him to us, Frida had declared she hated everything about him. And for no obvious reason. She didn't hide her dislike and the man and her have been like cat and dogs since then.

As for me, I don't have anything against Franklin other than how insanely good looking he is. Bronzed skin, muscular,an average build and height and a good sense of humor. I don't know, but anyone who can make me laugh my way out of this depression, I be sure to marry the person.

"Anyway, people,It was amazing", Ada squeals some more. “Everything was prefect. And you know his family is rich, so duh, it was extravagant. You guys should have been there",she gushes. "From the rush to the wedding day and the wedding night!"

“You sound pretty materialistic. Like you married him because his family is rich", Frida accuses.

“No I didn't", Ada defends. Smiling she says, “maybe I did".

"All your protest against marriage and how it's a form of oppression towards women, what about it?" I ask her with a small giggle playing on my mouth.

"Who said such?" Ada smiles, unashamedly denying it.

"You did!",Frida and I exclaims, laughing.

"Well, when you find the right person that steals your heart, you are not oppressed. You are free", she wisely explained.