Don't Wanna Try
Chapter 23
Marshall extracted himself from her arms to get her a glass of water. He was mentally trying to recount the major, important points of her story. How could someone rape anyone that young? He shook his head in disbelief and disgust.
“Did you tell your father what happened?” he asked as he handed her the cool liquid.
“I tried,” she looked away. “He didn’t believe me.”
“How the fuck couldn’t he believe his own daughter?” Marshall yelled, outraged.
“He just thought I was being difficult and ungrateful. He told me that I had better get used to the way things went if I ever wanted to make it. My father…he called the photographer, who confirmed his theory. The photographer told my father how I was refusing things, and how he had to spend a half hour just getting me to put on the outfits.”
“I never hated my father until then. I had done my best to understand…to make allowances for him. I couldn’t do it anymore. I wasn’t stupid, I knew I had been…raped. I knew it was wrong.”
“God, I hope he gets a taste of his own fuckin’ medicine…”
“I’m sure,” she murmured. “As soon as I came home, I jumped in the shower. I just felt so dirty, so used. I threw up first, over and over again until all I was throwing up was blood. I don’t even remember how long I stood under the water…just crying. I must have been in there for a long time because my mother barged in.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t get the words out. She took one look at me, my raw skin, the puffy, red eyes. She knew. She knew the look in her eyes because she saw it every time she looked in the mirror.”
“Who?” he ground out.
“I don’t know. I wanted to ask… I just cried in her arms.”
“At least you had a good mother.”
“No.”
“No? What—”
“After I was dressed again, she never mentioned it. She didn’t talk my father out of pursuing a music career for me. My mother didn’t do a damned thing. She knew but she ignored it.”
“God damn!”
“Marshall, calm down,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so…”
“Angry?”
“Yeah,” he sighed and pulled her closer.
“The worst part about it was having to ditch school to go to the pharmacy for a pregnancy test.”
“Oh, don’t tell me…”
“Negative. Never had I been so happy to see a minus sign in my life. That one word kept me sane. It gave me hope. I was able to move on.”
“Have you really moved on, though?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re the only man I’ve been with other than…him.”
Marshall took a deep breath as he processed the information—the words she wasn’t saying.
She trusted him. Her trust meant more to him than he thought it would; it was like a gift, something he’d treasure for as long as he had it.
They stared at each other for a long, stretched out moment and kissed tentatively. It was gentle, soft, and meant to heal. No wild hands roamed, just the simple sensation of lips against lips in tenderness, drawing the other’s strength through possession however temporary it was.
He kissed her eyelids and the tears that had fallen. “It’s over now. You have me.”
“I know,” she whispered and wiped away a final tear. “We better get ready to go.”
“Go?” he asked in disbelief. “Go where? What the fuck?”
“Proof’s concert!”
“You think we’re going to go to some stupid concert now?”
“Marshall…”
“You’re fucking insane! You’re in no condition to go to some wild party!”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Like I said earlier, it is in the past. It hurts to remember, but I dealt with it and the repercussions of it years ago.”
“Proof will understand if we skip it.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“Which is why he’ll understand.”
“We’re going,” she replied.
“Damn it, Vanessa, will you listen to me? I said we’re not going. You’re not okay!”
“Don’t tell what I do and do not feel.”
“How can you be okay? I’m not fucking okay.”
“I’ve had seven years to deal with it. You’ve had an hour. It’ll sink in, and it won’t be so bad.”
“Not so bad, huh? Yeah, right. I want to kill him. I could fucking kill him.”
She held her hand and placed a kiss to his palm. “You want to, but you wouldn’t. You’re smarter than that.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Oh, I believe you’d fight him. You’d beat him, but you’d realize how far you were going just before you went too far. You know what to do, the limits of your actions.”
He sighed. “We’re still not going.”
“Marshall, let’s go out. We’ll have fun after all this drama.”
“You wanna go? Then go. I’m not going.”
“Oh, please!”
“I’m not in the mood to party.”
“You sure?” she taunted, her eyes brightening slightly.
“I’m sure,” he replied firmly, leaving no more room for discussing the matter.
“Then I guess we’ll stay here.”
“Good. I wasn’t going to let you leave anyway.”
“No?”
“No. I just want to hold you right now. Think you can live with that?”
“Yes, I think I could,” she smiled faintly and came willingly into his open embrace.Author: zines@aol.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.