Bekah

Zack was looking at me like I was crazy. I expected nothing less. I didn’t want to tell him, but I knew I had to. I knew he needed to know. And so, I told him. I told him everything and now he was looking at me like I was crazy.

“Bekah, baby,” Zack said quietly once I finished. “Baby, Jake is dead.”

“No, I know that. I know you said that but…Zack it was him.” I told him.

Zack stared at me. He looked like he wanted to cry. God, I wanted to cry. I just couldn’t, the tears wouldn’t come. “You were having a nightmare.”

“No!” I yelled. “It wasn’t a nightmare, Zack! It was real!”

“Beks, nightmares can feel real sometimes. Baby, Jake is dead. He is dead. I saw him with my own two eyes, he shot himself in the head. There was no way he survived that. You saw the news story about the funeral. You’ve been to the grave. He’s gone, Beks. He’s dead. He wasn’there.”

But he was here. I knew he was. I still felt his skin on mine, I still heard the grunting.

“You don’t believe me,” I whispered.

Zack stared at me. He looked like he was in pain, there was a vein in his forehead that I thought might explode and at one point I even thought he stopped breathing. “I…Maybe you were attacked, okay? I’m not saying that didn’t happen. I just mean…Jake is dead. Okay? Do you believe me when I say that? I promise he is dead. I promise he isn’t going to hurt you again. Never again.”

He pulled me into his arms and held me there. I pressed my face into his neck and wrapped my arms around him. Zack made me feel safe. He always made me feel safe. He tried to pull away after a few minutes but I refused to let him. I held on to him, and felt relieved when he ran his hand through my hair and when he kissed my shoulder.

“We should get you to the hospital or to the police station,” Zack murmurs. I nod, but I don’t release him from my grasp. I don’t want to move, I don’t want him to leave me. “Baby girl.”

“I know,” I tell him pulling away from him.

Zack and I decide to go to the hospital knowing they would call the police to file a report about the crime if we wanted. The nurse took us back right away and began getting things ready. First, she asked if I had any injuries that needed immediate care. Secondly, she doused me with personal questions about my sexual activity and the details of what happened when I was most recently raped. If Zack hadn’t been there I don’t know if I could have gone through it again. He was there by my side the entire time, holing my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze every time I faltered or hesitated. After completely embarrassing myself and ripping away what dignity I had left, we moved onto the next part: the head-to-toe examination. Somehow, the nurse was able to find another bit of dignity that was hiding and she ripped that from me too as she combed, swabbed and examined every inch of my body. She asked for the clothing I was wearing when it happened, and Zack gave it to her which we had wrapped in a paper bag.
I was able to pull my clothes back on as soon as the examination was finished and I don’t think

I dressed faster in my life. “Are you okay?” Zack asked me as he helped me pull on my cardigan.

I nodded with tears in my eyes. I didn’t feel okay; I wasn’t okay. I was raped by a dead man, I was forced to wash all the evidence away and now I’m here getting every bit of dignity I have left ripped away. I feel vulnerable. Zack kisses my cheek and gives me another reassuring smile.

“I love you,” he tells me.

“I love you too,” I tell him. A tear escapes and Zack gently wipes it away. He kisses me again.

“You’re so strong,” another kiss, “and beautiful,” another kiss, “and good.” He kisses me once more but it’s longer than the previous three. “I’m here for you. For anything and everything you need.”

The nurse walks in, interrupting us. “Okay, ma’am, everything has been sent for testing. You’re free to go or we can get a policeman here if you would like to file a report.”

I glance at Zack and he gives me another reassuring nod. I know they won’t believe me. I know they will think I’m crazy. I know I have to report it anyway. “I’d like to make a report, please.”

The nurse nods and walks out of the room. Zack and I sit there and I try to hold back the tears, but they eventually come. Zack tries to console me and thankfully succeeds before the police show up. I retell everything that happened and they listen, asking questions every now and then. “I think it was a man named Jake Wilson.” I tell them when I finish.

I hear Zack let out a sigh I don’t think I was meant to hear. I don’t glance in his direction as the police officer looks at me and then his partner. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

“Last year he was involved in an attempted murder-suicide. He died on the scene due to a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

“Yes, that was me,” I tell him. “He tried to kill me.”

“Bekah…” Zack is quiet beside me.

“Ma’am, Jake Wilson is dead.” The officer tells me.

I knew they wouldn’t believe me. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I’m so fucking stupid. “I know what I saw,” I tell them.

The officer gives me a look of pity before he grabs his walkie. He radio’s in and asks for them to confirm the death, it takes a few minutes but eventually they radio back.

“Jake Wilson is confirmed dead,” the voice over the walkie says. The confirmation should give me some relief, and it does, but not near enough.

“Ma’am, going through something as devastating like that is enough to cause you to be paranoid and…”

I shake my head. “Do you have everything you need? I’d like to go.” The officer, confused, nods reluctantly. I stand abruptly and all but run from the room. I don’t stop until I’m outside.

Zack is right behind me but I can’t look at him. He touches my waist, but I don’t turn to him. No one believes me. Am I going crazy? Or am I already there?

“Baby,” he whispers from behind me. “They’ll catch whoever did this. We’ll figure it out. Everything will be okay.” I don’t reply. Mostly because I don’t know what to say but also because I don’t think it’s true. The evidence washed away. I’ll never know if it was Jake or if it was someone else – not unless it happened again, and I don’t want that. I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to do any of this anymore. I’m tired, mentally, physically, emotionally. I just want to sleep, I want to turn my brain off.

“We have to get rid of the bed,” I mention. I can’t sleep there, not where I was violated; raped.

“I’ll have a new one delivered today,” Zack whispers. His breath his hot against my ear. “Tell me what you need.”

I finally turn to him. I find comfort in him. Thank God, I find comfort in him. “Is everything really going to be okay?”

Zack nods. “I promise.”

Notes

Sorry for such a lame chapter, you guys. Writers block has hit me pretty hard with all of my stories right now, but I'm trying! Hope you guys enjoyed it at least a little bit!

Thanks to Hollie, foREVer-A7X, imagine fiction, Cheyenne16, a7xdeathbats6661 for commenting.

Title credit: Bob Dylan "Dignity"