She inhaled slowly, allowing the toxicants to enter her body. She let her head rest against the wall as she blew out smoke. She breathed that in too, wanting all of the toxicants inside of her temple.
She took another drag of her cigarette as she looked at her left wrist. She could still see the finger marks that he left behind. She tried to shake the images out of her head—the roughness of his hands, the smell of his breath, the sweat from his body, the mean smirk on his face. She put out the cigarette and threw the butt with the rest that was piling up on her bedroom floor. She sighed and buried her face in her hands. She wanted to hide. From the world. From herself. The curtains drawn and the bolted doors couldn’t conceal her enough.
“You wanted this,” his raspy voice whispered when he was on top of her.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself from the disturbing images. She looked down at her bruised wrists again. She ran her fingers through her hair, causing it to fall like a curtain over her face. Maybe this could conceal her. She sighed, her breath causing her hair to bounce some. She thought, for the millionth time over the past few days, how she ended up in this situation.
She never wore provocative clothing. In fact, she was rather conservative. But her clothing did accentuate her natural curves. She had a few sexual partners and she never been the type to lead a guy on. So how did she become a target?
She lighted another cigarette and inhaled the tobacco.
“Why do you allow that poison to enter your body?” she remembered her mother asking. “Your body is a temple. You should treat it that way.”
She looked at the endless amount of cigarette butts that were scattered across her bedroom floor. She shrugged and took another drag. She gave permission for tobacco to enter her body.
“I know you wanted this,” his raspy voice said. He had her arms pinned over her head.
She did not grant this foreigner access into her temple, but he forced his way in there anyways. Out of frustration, she put out her cigarette and tossed it into her ever growing pile.
Where does she go from here? Who can she talk to? How can she bounce back from getting here temple vandalized?
She wanted to kill him. She wanted to kill herself. She felt dirty. She felt ashamed. She knew that she couldn’t kill him or herself, but she wanted to take some type of action. So she stared at the endless amount of cigarette butts scattered across her bedroom floor. She popped some nicotine gum in her mouth and began to toss out the cigarettes.