I’ve never been the type of person to say no to others. I don’t like saying no because I feel like I’ll hurt someone’s feelings, and god forbid I do that. I used to have friends, but they all grew apart from me. I didn’t grow apart from them. I’d do anything for them in a heartbeat. Anything. I wouldn’t say no to them. I care about them. They don’t even bother to glance at me at school. School. The one place that I hate so much, but brings me so much comfort.

Every teenager hates school. The learning, the schoolwork, the drama. I hate school for those reasons, but the learning distracted me from the millions of thoughts running through my mind. I can’t say I like to learn, or that I even pay any attention during lessons, but I can say that being stuck at a desk all day with something to do isn’t relaxing, but distracting. Until recently. I can’t focus on anything. I have friends. I just don’t have the kind I need.

As a freshman, I know how much things change. Class difficulty. Expectations. Friend groups. I just didn’t think I could go from so many people I was close to, to no one. I try to interact but everyone already has a best friend. Everyone I’m friends with don’t have any intentions of talking or hanging out after school. They just want someone to talk to in class. I’m just there. Going through the motions. I don’t have any friends. Nobody truly likes me. If they do, they don’t act like it. I feel like I have nobody, but I have my boyfriend.

We were lying down and his hand rested on the inside of my thigh. I didn’t think anything of it. It’s happened before. We were lying down watching a movie. Which movie, I don’t remember. I felt safe in his arms. I felt loved, beautiful, happy. He kept trying to get me to kiss him. I kept saying no. He didn’t care. After a few minutes of asking, I gave in. I gave him what was supposed to be a short, meaningful kiss. He didn’t let me pull away. He held my head, not too forcefully, and kissed me. I didn’t want this, but he’d wanted it. I kissed back. He repositioned himself. He was on top of me, moving in ways I didn’t want him to move. I didn’t want this, but he’d wanted it. I lied there. He pushed his boundaries. He kissed down my body until he’d gotten to where my leggings began. He slipped them off. He started to touch me in ways I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want this, but he’d wanted this. I let him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at him to stop. That I didn’t want this. He would’ve understood, right? But I didn’t. I didn’t say anything. I was empty and afraid. I was violated by the last person I trusted. I didn’t know what was happening to me. When he was done with me, he turned around. He didn’t say anything to me. I turned the opposite way. I hugged my knees and buried myself in pillows. I cried. He didn’t notice. Or care. He started rubbing my back and slowly made his way under my pants onto my bare butt. “Did you like that?” he asked seductively. “Sure.” I responded. No. I thought. I didn’t feel safe anymore. I felt alone, empty, dead inside.