I DID NOT UNDERSTAND WHY MADORA was so insistent on me staying with her. Did she know about my plans to escape?

Of course, there could be nothing else to it. Why else would she do this? To sleep with me? She didn't notice me in high school, and she didn't notice me now. So I was going to be forced to suffer my crush being around me and probably bring girls home.

In high school, she always had someone new. There would be girls sitting on her lap, and the next day a new one would be in her place. Madora wasn't private about her affections, either, as she had a tendency to be touchy. Giving them kisses, feathery touches along their outer thighs, sultry grins and bedroom eyes.

All things I desired from her, and all things that she never glanced at me with.

She had a rather large apartment, an entire floor to herself. "I have a guest room already set up for you." I was out of the wheelchair before she managed to get it out of the elevator.

I rushed to the window, despite my pounding head and the nausea that courses through me. I stared out the window, silently cursing Madora. Of course it was the top floor. God fucking dammit.

Madora's steps were behind me, and I felt her breath down my neck as she purred, "Don't even think about it, Princess."

I could have sworn my heart skipped a beat. I lashed myself away from her quicker than she managed to step behind me, turning on her with a furious glare. "Stop that!" I snarled. I wanted to scream, Stop playing with my feelings!

But I didn't. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

Madora simply stared at me and edged forward. "Why? Does it bother you?" She grabbed my wrist and suddenly I felt a flash.

--

The music blasted through the speakers as I took another swig of beer. Madora — I could see her — I watched her as she wooed yet another girl.

She slid her fingers through the girls, tucked a strand of the girl's hair behind her ear, and took her upstairs.

It hurt. It hurt badly. But why should it? She didn't know me, she didn't notice me, and I didn't have the courage to approach her.

So I kept drinking, and soon my beer intake reached five bottles, way over the legal driving limit. Good thing Charlie would take me home.

Charles approached me, raising his eyebrows. "You look wasted Thalia." His hands found my arms gently, holding me in place as I grinned seductively at him.

I danced my finger up his chest, watching him stiffen. His eyes darkened and he wrapped arm around my waist. "But ... you look sober enough," he murmured. He leaned down and kissed me on the neck before pulling back and nipping my ear. "Let's take this upstairs."

I let him. My mind screamed no, but my mouth couldn't produce the word. I didn't want to sleep with him, I felt entirely sick to my stomach. But i said, "Okay."

Be grinned and led me upstairs, all the while my head was trying to say no no no. My drunken body refused, however, to deny my friend access. I was trapped.

I was drugged. Something had been slipped into one of my beers — Charlie got all of my beers for me.

He drugged me.

As I climbed the stairs with him, I glanced to my side to see Madora exiting one of the bedrooms. She was zipping her jeans up and flashing me a wink, "Have fun." She wrapped her arm around the girl next to her, who was giggling. She hadn't appeared to have seen Charlie's face, or she would've seen the triumphant smirk on his face.

I tried to tell them that I didn't want this. I tried, I screamed inside. But they didn't notice, they only walked back downstairs to the music while Charlie led me into the room. He shut the door and turned to me.

He leaned down and kissed me, gently at first, and I kissed back without meaning to. His touches grew more aggressive, and before I knew it, he was shoving me down on the bed.

--

I stumbled over to the kitchen and vomited into the sink, the second time I've done that today.

Charles had raped me.

Was it even considered rape? I technically consented, didn't I? Despite the fact that inside I was suffering and was forced to watch my body respond to his touches inside my own head.

I whimpered and turned the water on, watching the vomit rush down the drain. My throat burned, sobbing through my fingers and collapsing against the counter.

"What the hell?" Madora stepped forward, "Is it your head?"

"D-don't touch me!" I screamed, whipping away when her fingers reached out and grazed against my skin. Touch felt like flames burning into my skin.

Madora cringed back as if she was the one who had been burned, her icy gaze locking onto my face. Recognition flickered in their depths, and she released a sigh, putting her hands up as if to soothe me. "What happened?"

"I got dizzy," I lied. She pursed her lips; she had seen right through the lie I told, but I didn't care.

She had been there. Madora had been there that night — just finishing fucking another girl as usual. I trembled, my hands gripping the edge of the counter until my knuckles were white.

I wish I could have screamed — would she have saved me from him? Would things be different now? She might know me if I were able to yell for help.

But I couldn't yell for help. The drug had prevented that — and she had no idea that the guy — my best friend — I was with had drugged me into consent.

I turned and vomited again, disgust coursing through me. I was so disgusted with myself. How could I have not remembered something like this?

I do remember waking up at the party with a sore body — but I was sore all over. Everything was sore. I was dressed, so why would I have thought that anything would have happened?

I washed the vomit away yet again, letting out a quiet sob. My virginity — my virginity had been taken by that asshole and he knew it. I was terrified, so much so that I couldn't do much as look at the confused mafia leader in front of me.

"Where's my room?" I whispered.

"Brookes —" Madora started, almost hesitantly.

"Where?" I snapped, deciding I could pay the price for my attitude later. I needed a shower, just to get the feeling of filth off of me. "I need a shower, and sleep."

Madora grimaced, narrowing her eyes and turning around. She laced her fingers together and gestured for me to follow. "You'll be staying here until I say so," she said, a small snort leaving her. "My bedroom is off limits unless I say so," she added.

"Fine. Just don't bring girls in here while I'm here." I wouldn't be able to handle it. Not after the memory I just experienced.

She whipped around and glared at me. "Are you trying to tell me what to do in my home?"

The anger, it beat me down until my broken self was completely shattered. "I — I didn't mean — I'm sorry."

Madora must have seen the shattered look on my face, because her shoulders slumped. "I won't bring anyone up here," she said. "Only because I don't."

She continued walking, and my throat bobbed. She glanced back, and I could have sworn I saw a flash of guilt in those eyes.

I won't let her see me cry. She showed me to my room, showed me the bathroom I could use. I thanked her in a quiet voice, only wishing she would leave so I could allow myself to break and fall apart.

And she did leave.

And I did break.

And I did fall apart.