A fleeting night whirling past my windows ushers me along with the voices in the darkness. I hear him and the crashing waves he shattered my world with: You're not worth it. No one will love you. If you want to fall in love, you have to put out. It's what you should have done for me. You can't keep going on like this. 

Wincing pain drove like fire through my soul as I felt a hand reach out for mine--a hand I didn't want and a grimace as they reached up to finger and toy with my hair. My voice froze as he asked me to drive us to a park, but I uttered a no that I could hardly hear myself say. I continued to hurtle toward the Starbucks we said we'd go to.

This isn't the right thing to do, I told myself. Something is wrong. 

What do you know? 

I remember thundering into the parking lot, dread deep in my soul. Beau was his name; I had met him online. He went to my school. We met for what was supposed to be "coffee". A rather fancy, festive date  transpired instead and he made strange, incoherent statements all evening. I had chosen to drive. Some nagging voice told me that if I got in his car with him, I might never come out the same, if at all. I was right.

A rushing bolt of panic burst through my cranium as I felt his massive form suddenly go from friend to foe as he slammed me against my car. My mind forced its way back to the time when I was in that cursed sea--with him again: Aaron. He had been my everything, but he was my greatest abuser and demon. He remained my negative monologue. He was gone now; in his stead was this strange man who had not asked my permission for any of this. I was frightened, scared, and knew that no one could save me. But I could. 

You deserve this, I heard him say. You wanted to be loved, didn't you? It's not like you're worth any more than a cheap night out anyway. This is what you wanted, right? Well, you have to sell out to get it. 

I was a deer in headlights as I struggled to find my arms and fight the voice off. It's so hard to remind yourself you're worth it when all you hear is that you're not. But, somehow, I felt the push to kick him off me. My hand thrust forward as I heard it: Get him off you. He didn't ask you if you were okay to do this. Don't let him hurt you like Aaron did. Tell him to shove off. 

"I think we're done here." 

He stumbled back and I remember taking him home. I blocked him and never spoke to him again. I was worth more than that. Even if he and the voices thought I wasn't.