⚠️TW: Suicidal thoughts⚠️

Song: "She Used To Be Mine" by Sara Bareilles

**

Alejandro looked at the clock during Spanish class, preparing for what he was about to do. Heather's usually the last student out the door now, so this should work. He anxiously tapped his pencil as the professor lectured.

The moment she dismissed class, Alejandro shot up out of his desk and stood near the door as everyone piled out of the room. As he guessed, Heather got out of her desk slowly as she had been doing recently. He let the professor leave then stepped in front of the door. "Heather, talk to me."

Heather stopped a few feet in front of him. "Alejandro, let me out."

"Not until you talk to me."

She nervously eyed the door. "—Ok, what? What do you want?"

"Tell me what's wrong. And don't try to deny it because it is obvious."

Heather sighed, chewing her lip. Then she crossed her arms. "There's nothing wrong with me. Now let me leave."

"You blocked my number. Did I do something wrong?" Alejandro asked.

"No! I'm just—I'm really busy, and I don't have time to talk to you anymore!"

"I do not believe that, chica. Not one bit."

"Well, I don't know what else to tell you because it's true!" She looked out the door again. Alejandro noticed and raised an eyebrow. She looked—scared?

He shut the door. "Is this better?" He asked gently. "No one is watching us, but you seemed paranoid."

Heather lightly stomped her foot. "I am not paranoid!"

"You keep looking out this door. I am so much more observant than you think, Heather."

She started hyperventilating. What am I supposed to tell him?! I can't tell him the truth! I just can't. He won't believe me. He'll think I'm disgusting. Quick, you're good at telling lies! "—I'm in a hurry, ok?! I'm moving out with my fiancé, and we have to be at the rental moving truck place to pick up the car in thirty minutes!"

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief at how quickly she came up with that. "That is such a lie. Heather, stop lying to me."

Tears filled her eyes as she became more panicked. Chandler's probably been waiting for me for two minutes overtime! He's going to be so mad! He's going to hurt me! "I-It's just been really hard—" her voice trailed off. She swallowed, keeping her tears inside.

"What's been hard, Hermosa?" Alejandro looked at her with deep concern.

"Just—moving out and everything." She traced her shoe along the tile lines. He studied her unusual timid behavior as she spoke. "My, uh—my family probably threw a huge party after I left. And they don't want me to come back and visit. They made that clear." Heather felt nauseous. "And yeah, it's—it sucks."

"Were you ready to move out?" Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Yes, I was," she answered hesitatingly.

"It doesn't sound like it. Did Chandler try to rush into things?"

"—Chandler?" Heather's voice came out shaky. Just saying his name made her want to throw up. "No, we both agreed on this at the beginning of the school year." Chandler might kill me. He might actually kill me. She started stepping left to right slightly.

Alejandro noticed how antsy she started acting when her fiancé's name came up. "But you could have changed your mind. Is he hard to talk to?"

"No! No, he's—he isn't." She started visibly shaking.

"Heather," he began calmly, stepping forward.

She flinched, immediately backing up. "I-I need to go. I need to leave." She walked around him and nearly sprinted out the door.

Something very strange is going on, Alejandro thought. She looked anxious the entire time, but not as bad as when I said Chandler's name. Alejandro took psychology last semester and this semester, and to him, Heather was showing signs of an abuse victim.

He walked to his desk and tore a piece of notebook paper out of his binder. He wrote down her first and last name, all the symptoms he saw, and Chandler's name.

Heather ran down the hallway, frantically thinking of excuses. I had to go to the bathroom. No, the bathrooms are near the doors where we meet! I dropped all my books and had to pick them up. Yes, I can use that! She got to the doors and stopped in her tracks. Chandler wasn't there. What?! She looked to her right and left. There was no sign of him. She decided to wait for a few minutes.

Chandler finally came out of his class. "Hey babe, sorry I'm a little late. I had to talk with my professor after class for a few. How was your day?"

Heather held in an enormous sigh of relief. Thank God. I'm safe. "M-My day was good," she stammered, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Are you ok? You look pale."

"Yeah! I'm fine!" She nodded quickly.

"—Alright." He took her quivering hand and walked out the doors with her.

Seconds after they got outside, Heather threw up all over the grass. She had been that scared of Chandler. "Whoa!" Chandler rubbed her back. "Baby, are you sick?" She nodded, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. "That explains why you were pale." He took the rubber band from her wrist and used it to hold up her dampening hair. "You're so sweaty. You must've been burning up all day. I'm gonna warm up a bath for you when we get home. That way, you can relax." Heather didn't say a word. She only nodded yes. She got in the car with him, and they drove off.

**

Chandler stuck his hand in the bathwater. "There, it's perfect." Heather was behind him, holding herself. "You can get in now, sweetie," he said. She stood there, not budging. He walked up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Don't you wanna get in? It'll help you."

"Yeah. I need to—" She motioned to her clothes.

He looked at her gesturing, and frowned. "You know, I miss when you'd let me see you naked all the time." Heather didn't reply. His words made her feel queasy. "But I understand," he said. "The time will come when it comes."

Heather waited a couple of minutes after he left and got undressed. She locked the door, then slowly sunk into the bathtub, feeling the water hit every inch of her skin. Her eyes shifted up to the popcorn ceiling. She thought about her life and how invaluable it was. She wasn't even supposed to be born. Her mom reminded her of that all the time. She had no friends until she was in high school because she was mean to everyone she met, and that was the only way she could get any attention. Chandler was the first guy she ever dated, and she was truly in love with him. He changed so much from the day we met. He changed into someone I don't love—someone I can't love.

Heather wondered how easy it would be to just—drown, fall asleep in the tub, and sink. She'd never have to wake up again and worry if Chandler was going to rape her or do worse. She'd never have to feel the insurmountable self-loathing she felt all the time now. She had nothing left. All her esteem was down the drain, and she felt like she was no one.

She swirled the water with her index finger, making mini whirlpools. She took the white soap bar and slid it down her arms. The smooth and slimy texture soothed her a little. She took in the fresh rose scent and smiled. It seemed cliché, but her favorite flowers were roses—red ones, specifically. She thought it was the best and most romantic way of showing love. Chandler never got her the right kind. They were always pink, which she didn't mind back then. Now she could never look at a pink rose again.

Heather got out of the bath after a few more minutes. The air was freezing. She slid into her fuzzy kitten pants and a white t-shirt. She wrapped her hair up in her towel walked out to look for Bruiser. She found the cat in the guest room, napping between antiques. She carefully picked him up. He blinked his eyes open a couple of times but fell back asleep when he saw it was Heather picking him up. She cradled him in her arms like a baby. Maybe Chandler won't notice I'm out yet. Maybe I can have a few more minutes to myself.

She buried her face in Bruiser's fluffy coat. He felt like a soft, warm pillow. Listening to him purr took away her anxiety and helped her think more clearly. "I love you, little guy," she whispered. "And I think Chandler's a monster. He's a loser, and a fake, and a monster. I'm really scared of him right now, but one day I won't be." She felt anger rising in her. I let him treat me like this for so long. And I'm still allowing him to have power over me. "One day, I'll—"

Chandler walked in, scaring her half to death. She held onto her cat protectively. "How was your bath, honey?" Heather didn't answer. She kept her eyes on the white ball of fur in her lap. He sighed deeply. "Sweetheart, please talk to me. I miss my Heather." She turned away from him. "Look, I know you don't wanna get married anymore. It's obvious why you don't. But we're getting married anyway. You made a promise, so you have to keep it." Tears formed behind her eyes. "I know you're sad, Heath, but one day you'll forget about it. And then everything will be back to the way it was before." He patted her back. "I promise. You'll love me again. I still love you, so you will." It almost sounded like a demand instead of reassurance.

"I don't want—" she let her voice trail off.

"Shh, I know what you were gonna say. I can't let you be a bad wife and break your promise, can I?" He sat crisscrossed on the bed, leaned against her, and played with her hair. "What would your mom and dad say if you gave up on our love? They'd shun you if you came back home. And who would you talk to besides that cat? Courtney pays more attention to Duncan than you. You know that. Pretty soon, she'll marry him too, and you'll have no one. Gwen, Bridgette, and Geoff don't like you enough to keep being your friend. Courtney's friends with them, but you're not. You have no friends. But I'm willing to stay with you forever. I'm the only one who will ever love you this much, Heather."

He's right. No one could ever stand to be around me this long except him. The only one who actually loves me is the one who loves to hurt me. Heather shut her eyes. Her head hurt. She didn't know what was right or wrong anymore. She didn't know what was going on inside Chandler's head or even her own head. She didn't know anything.

She laid down on the bed, no longer caring that she was in a vulnerable position in front of her rapist. She felt Bruiser's weight on her chest. Being alive didn't feel like the best option for her right now. Chandler laid down next to her. She tensed. "I can't...anymore." It was too physically draining for her to say, "I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean, baby?" Chandler rolled over so he could see her face.

"I-I don't wanna live anymore." Heather blinked. A couple of tears spilled from her eyes.

He gasped. "No—don't say that. Heather, no. I swear, things will get better. We can still have a happy life together!" He held her delicate hand. If you go, I won't know what to do with my life! You're my everything! I will never want anyone else if you go." She laid there with no response, just petting her cat. "I'm gonna watch you all night to make sure you don't do anything." More tears streamed down her cheeks. "Don't worry; I'll protect you." Chandler pulled her into his arms. "I love you."

Heather felt like throwing up again. Panic and terror filled her body. She started squirming and slid out of his arms. She stumbled out of bed with her cat, nearly falling to the floor. She ran for the door, but Chandler grabbed her. Bruiser jumped out of her arms, sprinting into the living room. "NO! LET ME GO!" Heather screamed at the top of her lungs. Chandler shut the door and dragged her back to the bed. "No, no," she kept repeating hopelessly.

Chandler threw her on the bed. "Are you trying to leave?! You BETTER not be trying to leave! I put too much effort into this house for you to run off!" She curled herself up into a ball and covered her body with her arms to protect herself. She felt the bed sink as he sat back down. "Heather, you are mine. All mine. We will get married, have kids, and grow old together—just like we planned. Everything will be perfect." He slowly slid his hand up to her thigh. She pulled her leg away and kicked like crazy, hoping she could get him, but he backed away before he could get hurt.

He walked around to the side of the bed and held her legs down from there. "You need to relax, darling. Just relax," he said in the most soothing voice he could muster. "You're ok. You're not in danger. You're just very stressed out, and stress does things to the brain. No one's hurting you, baby."

Heather kept struggling. "Let me go!! Let me go!!" Her voice was starting to sound hoarse from all the screaming. She threw her arms around, trying to hit his face.

Chandler got on top of her and used his body to hold down her legs and one hand to hold her arms down together. "Heather, I didn't wanna do this, but you have to calm down." He took a kitchen rag from his back pocket and firmly pressed it against her nose and mouth.

Heather let out muffled screams and cries. She hyperventilated into the rag. It smelt like a disinfectant. He stroked her hair. "Relax, beautiful. This is just going to put you to sleep." Put me to sleep?!?! What's that supposed to mean?!?! She tried thrashing her head around, but it was no use. Fuck, I'm going to die. He's killing me. He's literally killing me.

Heather eventually stopped struggling. She glanced at Chandler. He had a crazed look on his face as he forced the mysterious chemical on her. She slowly blinked, her eyelids feeling heavy. Then her whole body started to feel weak and exhausted.

"It's almost done. It's almost over," he whispered. Heather's eyes burned with saltwater. She thought she wanted to die a few moments ago, but now that she was pretty sure it was happening, she no longer wanted to. The room gradually became darker as her vision shut down. Her heartbeat slowed in her chest. She tried to make a sound, but she wasn't able to. This is it, then. I'm done. It's over. She shut her eyes one last time.

Chandler waited a few seconds to see if she was fully asleep. He took the chloroform rag off her face, folded it in half, and laid it on the nightstand. He studied her pale face and ever so gently stroked her soft cheek. He admitted he had gone a bit insane over the past few months, but love makes you insane, right? He kissed her forehead. She should feel well enough to go back to school tomorrow. I think giving her chloroform helped calm her down.

**

Alejandro couldn't sleep. He kept thinking of Heather's behavior when she talked to him. He had called the Chancellor's office earlier, but he gave him ten different Chandlers enrolled at the University of Ontario. He wrote them all down but only found a couple of men on the Internet. Neither of them was engaged, and there was no sign of Heather anywhere. He wished he had seen Chandler up close instead of far away in the hall.

He sighed, frustrated, and got out of bed. He walked towards his window and looked out at the city. Cars flew by, and lights flashed everywhere. He's out there somewhere. Maybe I can get his information out of Heather somehow. I'll have to sleep on that. He went to his medicine cabinet above his bathroom sink and took a couple of melatonin pills. I'll find that fucker. Next time I see him, I'll make sure I get close enough to see his face.