My Trial of Survival

I had the best room growing up. My walls were a carefully hand painted mural of fields buzzing with life. There were bunnies leaping through the rolling hills and butterflies scattered amongst the wildflowers. It was a perfect moment made just for me. When I was sent to my room, I would lie on my bed in my sunny field and find shapes in my plain white popcorn ceiling. I had a knack for finding constellations that told stories of racing mermaids and fire-breathing dragons. It never failed to comfort me until a June night before my 19th birthday.

When I pushed through the exit door the warm summer air wrapped around me. I slowed to a walk when I spotted the black SUV. It was the only car on the street. After climbing it, I closed the door with enough force to shake the car. When I looked out the window and saw an empty street, I could finally breath.

“Sorry!” I felt bad about slamming the door.

He was kind, “Don’t worry about it. How are you?”

The whole night caught up to me. I was overwhelmed with all the emotions I hadn’t had time for. I was barely able to choke out “I’m okay” before I burst into tears. The driver asked me what happened a couple times. I would have told him, but I was still trying to piece it together, myself. I wiped the snot and tears from my face, but they just kept coming.

I tried to remember what happened and make sense of it. The tall man was a business owner interested in software my family made. He was clean cut, maybe mid 40s and seemed nice enough. His face flashed in my mind and suddenly I was on the couch again, staring at a popcorn ceiling.

There were no figures to find on this ceiling; It was an ugly mess of protrusions. It belonged to the tall man holding my hands above my head. At the time I hadn’t registered the chaotic smattering of white dots, the leather pulling on my bare ass or the intermittent buzzing beneath my back. By that point, I had vacated my body. It was like a sneeze; Not a decision I made, but an involuntary reaction. I was still feeling, seeing, and hearing, but my brain ignored it all. I ceased to exist for that moment. I had pushed and protested, but he made all the decisions. I was left to stare at the white dots on his white ceiling. He asked me again if I ‘liked that’. The first few times he asked, I had held back tears, protesting and pleading for him to stop. Why did he keep asking me that when he knew the answer? I don’t know how many times he taunted and asked my shell of a body. Finally, eyes on the speckled ceiling, I said yes.

He stood up, releasing my hands. I didn’t let the opportunity go to waste. I grabbed my buzzing phone from behind my back and answered it.

“Hello? This is your Uber driver. Do you still need a ride?”

I ran across the living room and scrambled to put on my shorts “Yes! I’m so sorry, I will be right out. Have you been waiting long?”

I threw my shoes and underwear in my giant polka dot purse as I continued to make small talk. The last thing I wanted was for this phone call to end. I started to head for the door when the tall man stepped in my way and asked if I was sure I wanted to leave. My voice was shaking, but calmly and politely I told him that I needed to get home because I had work the next day.

I stepped around him, still holding my phone to my ear and told the driver I was heading downstairs that minute. The tall man walked behind me to his apartment door. As I opened it, he offered to walk me out. I shook my head and darted to the nearby elevator. If I had known where the stairs were, I would have taken them to avoid his gaze any longer. I faced the elevator, occasionally glancing back to see if he was still there. He always was.

I updated the driver, “I’m about to get on the elevator.” The man took a step out of his apartment toward me and asked if we were okay. DING! The doors were taking forever to open. I bounced on my toes anxiously. “Yeah, we’re good.”

I flung my body into the elevator and smashed the close door button like my life depended on it. I didn’t stop until the doors were sealed shut. Beep beep beep. The call dropped. It was just me and my steel-faced reflection. Immediately, my heart started to beat even faster. I knew that when the elevator doors opened, the man would be standing there. He knew where the stairs were. One would not have to walk quickly to beat the unbelievably slow elevator I was trapped in. I braced myself for a fight as the doors began to part. To my surprise, the hallway was empty on the first floor. Even so, I called the driver back as I ran around the corner searching for the exit. We barely spoke, but his presence alone kept me from panicking even more.

Crying in the car, I had to remind myself that it was over. I had escaped. My body, on high alert, didn't believe I was safe. Why me? What did I do wrong? Why would someone I was so nice to want to hurt me? I don’t think I’ll ever know the answer to those questions. I have tried to find reasons, but his actions were as senseless as his blank white popcorn ceiling.