WARNING: This story is graphic. If you have sexual trauma you are working through please don’t read it. I’m sharing my fiction here but don’t wish to trigger suffering for anyone so note that this story could be a difficult read and choose for yourself wisely before you scroll further and read it.
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Marla looked in the mirror. Her eyes lingered over tired, drawn features before touching the ugly, raised streak across her neck. It had been four months and the revolting scar lived as a visible reminder of her violation. She doubted it would ever fade.
On this sunny Monday morning her thoughts pointed to the fast advancing 2pm appointment with her therapist, Riley Peters. It wasn’t going to go well. She could feel it. For eight weeks she’d been seeing Riley and the sessions were a torturous hour of hopeless hypnosis, frequent tears, and probing questions that led to zero answers.
Marla wrapped a scarf around her neck, as she’d become accustomed to doing. This one was a silk, beige print with charcoal colored cat profiles printed on it. It reminded her of recently losing Jack, her cat, and as she tied it a tear welled in the corner of her lower lid. The softness of the scarf was like the silkiness of his fur. More tears surfaced and Marla let them come. There’d been so many tears in the last four months but the pain hadn’t subsided.
She took a second look in the mirror; scarf wrapped around her neck, recalling that horrific night. All she could feel was the cruel blade against her skin. He’d climbed up the fire escape steps outside of her building. The smallest crack in her window was enough invitation.
There had been a cool breeze and Marla wrapped herself in only a thin, cotton sheet leaving the window slightly ajar so she could feel the wind brush across her body. After two weeks of oppressive heat in the city, the airiness of this night felt heavenly. She lay diagonally across her queen bed with the breeze sifting in through the window, drifting sweetly to sleep.
Marla didn’t wake to the knife cutting the screen. It wasn’t until he was on top of her forcefully pushing her onto her back and digging it into her neck that she came out of her dreams.
Her loving cat, Jack, played center stage in the dream. They were messing around together and she’d crumpled up a small ball of paper, thrown it, and he retrieved it to have her throw again. She was laughing, about to throw it again, when she was ripped awake.
Steel on her neck. A low, raspy voice that said, “Open your legs bitch.”
She inhaled sharply. Wait, was this really happening?
He pushed the knife tighter to her throat and she released a small squeak. “I said, open your legs.”
Instead, Marla closed them tight. She would not give anything. She would not allow this. His knife sliced deep into her throat and slid firmly past her jugular. Then as suddenly as he’d appeared he was gone.
Blood was streaming freely from her neck. She grabbed a t-shirt and pushed it firmly to her throat before reaching out for her phone and desperately calling 911. Then she blacked out.
Marla arrived for her 2pm appointment a few minutes late. Her therapist was waiting and immediately commented on her silk scarf. “So pretty Marla. Are you loving it or covering something up?”
Marla ignored her and sank into the awkwardly, overstuffed chair adjacent from Riley letting out a frustrated sigh.
“So, how was your weekend?” Riley offered as an introduction.
“I’m exhausted.”
“Tell me more about that…”
Riley always wanted to know ‘more about that’, whatever it was, and Marla was never thrilled to share it. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Her heart wasn’t willing to brave the emotional rapids today.
Riley wouldn’t be discouraged. “So instead, tell me about the scarf you’re wearing today, Marla.”
The silk scarf; it reminded her of Jack. She looked towards Riley and hesitated. Tears began to spill from her eyes and she couldn’t contain the pain. Her mouth betrayed her heart and words spilled out.
“I miss him. I miss Jack. He was my heart for nearly 17 years. I loved him since he was a kitten. He’s been with me, a part of me, for more than half of my life. I’m lost without him.”
“What happened to Jack, Marla?”
“He got sick and he died. I miss him so much.” The tears were streaming down her face into her lap.
Riley cautiously eased in more to the conversation. “Do you remember how he got sick?”
Marla shook her head no. She couldn’t. All she remembered is that her heart hurt missing Jack’s sweet spirit in her life.
Riley leaned in closer. “Marla…Can you please take off your scarf today?” She’d asked her to do this so many times and it was too much, but today Marla slowly unwound the scarf to wipe the tears from her eyes and laid it in her lap.
“Touch your neck my dear. Tell me what you feel.”
Marla reached up to touch the protruding scar but felt nothing, only smoothness. The look of shock on her face prompted Riley into a new question.
“Now do you remember what happened?”
Marla winced. Something was flooding in but she didn’t like it. She didn’t want it to be the truth. She clawed her neck searching for any reminder of the scar.
“No. I stood up for myself. I closed my legs. I wouldn’t let him rape me. I said no so he slit my throat instead. That’s what happened. That’s what happened.” She squeezed her eyes as tight as she could to create a damn and block the memories from rushing in.
Riley reached forward and held her shoulders. “You said no. You stood up for yourself. You were protecting yourself.”
Marla’s damn broke as everything flashed again.
Steel on her neck. A low, raspy voice that said, “Open your legs bitch.”
She inhaled sharply. Wait, was this really happening?
He pushed the knife tighter to her throat and she released a small squeak. “I said, open your legs.”
Instead, Marla closed them tight. She would not give anything. She would not allow this.
He got off of her and grabbed Jack, her cat. His knife sliced deep into Jack’s throat and slid firmly past his jugular.
He climbed back on Marla and straddled her body, “If you don’t want that to happen to you, spread your legs bitch.” She involuntarily opened them while he raped her. Then as suddenly as he’d appeared he was gone.
Blood was streaming freely from Jack’s neck. She grabbed a t-shirt and pushed it firmly to her sweet cat’s throat before reaching out for her phone and desperately calling 911. Then she blacked out.
“Are you okay? Marla…Are you okay?” Riley was still holding her shoulders.
Marla’s whole body shook, her vision blurred, and her head felt fuzzy. She lifted the scarf off her lap and wrapped the silk cat pattern three times around her neck.
Abruptly, she had a memory of her mama tucking her into bed, the smallest version of Jack nestled close to her, reciting a poem to ease her to sleep.
‘Star light, Star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have this wish I wish tonight.’
Marla wished for a scar.