CHAPTER 22

It's been a month now since Jed died, and a lot has happened so far. Mark and Kathy disappeared, and I don't know where. I came back from working one night and all of their stuff was gone. It's been over a month and I haven't seen them, so I don't think I will see them again. I'm now the only female in the park, which has proven to be very bad in the past couple weeks. So many things going wrong now, but I'm still under eighteen, so I can't ask for help. When I find some strange guy sleeping with me, I end up walking around town the rest of the night, and since that haven't gotten a lot of sleep.

Right now my only hope is my new guy, Trent. I'm able to stay with him a few nights a week, and actually get some sleep. I'm so tired now, tired of everything. The things I've felt before are now gone. I keep telling Trent I'm ready to go, but he doesn't understand. I've been able to drown everything out with his nightly parties, drinking myself into a deep coma, doing so many drugs that I can't feel, and cutting so much more now. Trent knows about my cutting, but ignores the fact that I do it.

Tonight's the night, I'm moving in with Trent. I have to make sure I stuff everything I need into my pack, and have a harder time of getting it all in that I had the first time. I seem to have gathered more stuff as I've lived here, as weird as it sounds. My pictures of Jed, Kathy, and Mark. My quilt that I had found at a thrift store and given to Jed. Everything I now had to fit into my life. My entire life ended up fitting on my back.

As I looked through the pack at everything I had, feelings came back. I could feel again. But these feelings were not good. Depression, anger, guilt . . . the three feelings that pretty much summed up my entire life. As I held the pictures of my three lost friends, and a picture of my birth parents, I couldn't help but break down.

I arrived at Trents apartment early in the afternoon, which was three stories off of the ground, with only a weak, wooden railing to keep me from falling. The boards were rotting and cracking now, termites were eating through the wood from the inside out. The view was scary, as there was only a small two foot path along the building, and the railing separating me from falling to the busy street below. To make things even worse, the walkway slanted downward toward the railing, as if it couldn't hold. I figured I was the only one that hugged the wall, and avoided even touching the railing. I was a paranoid that way. I found his door and knocked my special knock. Trent would know it was me.

"Hey baby!" Trent said as he opened the door and pulled me in, giving my a long deep kiss, "I was wondering when you were going to show up!"

"I had to finish up some things", I replied and looked around the room. I could see that he had his usual gang over before the party. Mick, Tyson, Eric and Slate, all camped out on the living room floor, doing their usual mix of crack and methamphetamine. I knew I would get some sooner or later, so I never made a big deal about it. Their mix wasn't my favorite, but I was willing to do any drug at that moment.

"Come here, you can put your stuff in my room," Trent said as he led me past his friends and into his room.

I dropped my pack on the floor in the corner of the room, and took off my sweatshirt so that I was wearing only my tank top. The apartment was hot, and I knew this from times before. I rubbed the flesh colored band-aids that I had stuck over the cuts on my wrists. They were still sore, but at the same time, itched like hell. I never knew whether I should scratch the itch, or ignore it.

I stood still as Trent walked up to me and started rubbing his hands up and down my upper arms. It wasn't comforting anymore, as it had been so many times already. I knew he was there, I felt him, but my mind wouldn't respond. I knew what he wanted and gave in, knowing that it if I couldn't feel, it couldn't hurt. Trent was the only one I had felt this close to, the only one I had actually planned on spending the rest of my life with, he just didn't know it yet.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the living room, sitting me down on the couch next to his friends, handing me some of his mix. I took it without hesitation, making sure I had enough to last me the next couple hours. I then passed what was left over to Mick. I watched as Mick took it, and then took some more. I never knew how he could do so much and not have any problems.

"Hey, it's good stuff, yeah?" Tyson said as he passed me another hit, "It's the best."

I took another couple of hits, passed it down the line to Eric, and laid my head back on the back of the couch, "Yeah, it's all good."

Eric turned to me and laughed, "Man, you're really trippin' aren't ya?"

I raised my left hand in the air and gave a thumbs up sign, "Way up."

They kept passing it around the room, taking one hit after another. I passed it up after my sixth hit, and just relaxed and watched them. Over and over, it was like they were never going to stop. They did finally when Trent brought out the drinks, and handed one to each of us. I took a couple of sips and stood up and walked into the kitchen.

I sat at the counter and watched as the five of them got themselves drunk. I knew I was headed that way, but at least I could watch them from the kitchen. I watched as Trent turned off the overhead lights and turned on his party flashers. With the music up loud and the fog machine creating a haze that filled the room, people finally started showing. Trent had always said that no one would show up to a party until it became a party. He seemed to be right about this.

After a while I began to feel sick, convincing myself that it was just the alcohol. As I sat watching the lights flash and listening to the music bounce through my head, I began to see things I weren't sure of. I barely managed to get my balance and stand up. Was I the only crazy one in the room?

The room started spinning out of control. I felt lightheaded, almost as if my head was floating away from my body. I closed my eyes and rubbed them roughly with my hands, trying to still the room. When I opened my eyes again, everything was still the same. The dark room and flashing lights didn't help at all. The music was so loud that I couldn't even hear myself think, and the fog machine made the whole room feel distant.

I stumbled over to the couch and plopped down next to Trent, "Wha... what the fuck did you put in my drink?!"

Trent reached over and stuck his hand up my shirt, surprising me and causing me to drop my cup, "C'mon baby, just relax. It's good stuff, I promise."

I reached up and tried to pull his hand out of my shirt, but I was far too weak. I tried to fight him as much as I could. He took his hand out and grabbed my arm and holding it tight. With a warning squeeze, he let go, and then reached up and started running his fingers through my hair. I was too tired and weak to pull away. I was beginning to get scared, but all I could manage was to mumble the words 'no, please don't' over and over. All of a sudden my head gained 100lbs and I was forced to lay my head down on his chest, then everything went dark.

I opened my eyes and found myself in bed with not only Trent, but Tyson and Eric as well. I sat up quickly and looked around, trying to convince myself what had happened never took place. As much as I tried to lie to myself, I knew it was true. I had been gang raped, and my trusted boyfriend had set me up for it. Tears filled my eyes as I let myself realize what had happened. The three of them were too out of it to even move a muscle as I climbed over them and out of bed.

I quickly put my clothes back on and shoved everything back into my pack. I was very careful not to wake them while I was doing all this, I didn't want to have to deal with them. I had figured out what they put in my drink, since I had experienced it before. It had to be GHB, that was all I could come up with. It didn't matter really what had been in my drink, it was all over now. With tears pouring out of my eyes, I left the apartment.

It was early in the morning, and the sun was still down, but there were people heading to and from work. The streets were almost as busy as the afternoon, but it didn't seem like it should be that way. Thankfully it was dark and raining, and the streetlights didn't show too brightly, I didn't want anyone to see me cry. The cold and heavy rain soon soaked through my clothes, sending chills through my body.

I slid myself into the nearest phone booth to get out of the rain, and reached back to dig a dry sweatshirt out of my backpack, one with Kira's number in it. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a quarter for the call. As I pulled out the sweatshirt, my book of poems dropped out, landing opened onto the ground, and a small, crisp card flew out of it. I picked up the card and just stared at it for what seemed to be forever. I knew what to do now.

I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear, dropping the quarter into the slot. After I heard the click that told me to dial, I carefully dialed the number. I was trembling hard and found it extremely difficult to hold on to the receiver.

I listened as it rang twice before a woman answered the phone. Fear and doubt filled my head, but I had to do this. With a weak and trembling voice, I spoke, "Can. . . can I talk to Officer Kent Marrow please?"