Guilty

Andrew

Sharp pains shot through my body as I slowly opened my eyes. My head was pounding real hard and my body felt like a huge person was sitting on top of me.

This wasn’t the effect of alcohol. A simple hangover should have been it, but what I was feeling was way beyond it.

I tried sitting up slowly so as not to upset the big man sitting on me, but immediately I attempted that, an excruciating pain pierced through the muscles of my neck, sending me right back on the bed with a grunt escaping my lips.

“Did I jump down from a cliff or something?” I asked myself, perplexed.

“No, you didn’t,” a voice answered me calmly.

I followed the direction of the voice and caught sight of a set of beautiful eyes staring back at me.

'Did I die and go to heaven?' I thought to myself. That might have been true because the eyes in front of me didn’t look human. They were too beautiful to be real.

On second thoughts though, I shouldn’t be feeling pain, right?

“The drugs are messing with your head,” came the voice again.

“Why say that?” I asked absentmindedly, slowly turning to my side and holding myself up with my elbow in an attempt to seat up again.

“You’re swaying your head and talking to yourself,” she stated. “You should stop trying to get up as well. You’re only hurting yourself."

That did it! Those eyes might be beautiful, but that voice was starting to get on my nerves.

“Who are you again?” I asked irritably.

“A ragged doll you can use and toss away, I guess," the voice replied. It had sounded clipped and moody, like an angry nurse earlier, but now it was filled with so much venom and hatred.

“Excuse me?” I asked, confused. That was when I noticed my surroundings, “Wait, am I in a hospital?” I asked. To me, being in the hospital was more confusing than when I had thought I had died and gone to heaven.

I took in my surrounding. An ugly white table, creaky iron bed with bland covers, a monitor, annoying plain curtains, and other things I know their name not. Yep! I was in the hospital.

"What am I doing in a hospital?"

I shifted my gaze back to the beautiful eyes and took in her entire feature. She was breathtaking; from her big brown eyes to the long lashes surrounding them. Her nose started straight but curved upwards at the tip. The lower part of my body stirred when my eyes traveled to her lips. They were lush, pink, and kissable.

Where did this lady come from?

Her brown hair was packed up in a rough ponytail, making her round, smooth face pop. She had on a simple floral dress which accentuated her small breasts and tiny waist. The visible skin of her face, neck, chest, and arms looked bright, delicate, and soft. It reminded me of the fresh bread my nanny always baked for Vincent and me.

She was beautiful.

But why did she look so sad?

She had her face in a frown and I didn't know why.

"Who are you?" I asked again, a lot more interested. Maybe she was someone I had a one-night stand with. But I would’ve remembered this pretty face and gorgeous body.

Her frown deepened. She looked at me with so much disdain. I could also see that she was contemplating whether to answer my question. 

"You seriously don’t remember, do you?” She asked skeptically.

“Remember what exactly?”

“I’m the girl you tried to rape last night!"

‘Wait. What!’  

“What does that mean?"

“It means you connived with your friend to rape me, you bastard.” She said with a low, deadly voice, standing up from where she sat on a stool.

“Hey young lady, back up a bit. What the f**k are you talking about?”

"You tried to rape me!" she screamed, and immediately reduced her voice, darting her eyes to the door to see if someone heard her. When she returned her gaze to me, her eyes were red with unshed tears, which began trickling down her face as she slowly walked toward me.

"Why are you crying… what the heck are you talking about?"

And then it hit me, hard! I had thought it was a dream. It all seemed foggy and distorted. Slowly, clearer images of the previous night began slipping into my head. Me, Paul, the party, the girl we saw on the road, the tugging and force, the pain. They were all real!

Soon, the images started coming in flashes, each scene jumping in and out simultaneously. The flashes increased their pace and instantly started twirling in my head, making whooshing sounds as they went round and round. I held onto my head to stop the dizziness that came over me.

When the ruckus came down a bit, I looked at the lady and tried to say something, anything! But nothing seemed to come out. I still couldn’t believe I was the one in all the pictures in my head. It all looked like one giant psychotic movie.

"You and your friend assaulted and almost raped me,” she continued, closing up the distance and speaking straight into my face. “They say you are your true self when you are drunk. So I tell you, you are capable of murder.”

I stared wide-eyed at her, still in massive shock.

“I’m here right now because I couldn't get myself to report you, else I would have had you arrested the moment you opened your eyes. I don't know if my decision to let you get away with this is the right thing to do, but I’m doing it. You almost destroyed me!” She spat into my face, the tears falling freely from her beautiful eyes.

She sniffed, stood straight, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. When she felt more composed, she continued, looking directly into my eyes. “I don't know you or what you can do but know this: you almost shattered a girl's life because of your reckless act. If you had had your way, you would have ruined me.”

She stepped back a little and wiped at the tears that resumed their race on her face. "You should have been rotting in jail. Everyone would have known of your heinous act but, I didn't let that happen.”

Slowly, she picked up her bag from the edge of the bed and looked back at me. “Today, I have shown you mercy. Please, don't victimize any other person. Whenever you feel like acting stupid, think of all the women you love in your life,” she said sadly.

She wiped her face for the third time, strengthened her dress, and quietly walked towards the door. Before opening the door, she stopped, and turned her neck towards me, "I told everyone thugs attacked us together on our way back from night class," she said and left.

I was dumbfounded, speechless, dumbstruck, whichever word you could use to describe my tied tongue. I wanted to call her back, but I couldn't and I didn't know why.

It was me. I did this. I caused her pain. Everything she felt was written on her face. It killed me.

For several minutes, I shut my eyes tightly, wishing everything was a dream, wishing my existence was a dream. But alas, as I opened my eyes, the entire room stared back at me, as if taunting me and reminding me that I wasn’t God.

I tried standing up, but everywhere began moving beneath me, sending me back onto the bed with agonizing pain. I guess I deserved everything I was passing through.

When I thought I was left alone to wallow in my pain, the door flew open, and in rushed my mum, who was followed by my dad.

My mum was already in tears when she entered, but on seeing me, she began wailing. My dad just stood there with his stoic expression, subtly running his eyes all over me, as if looking for death signs. He did care about me, but he had a weird way of showing it. He so much despised letting his emotions show and had over the years mastered the art of stoicism.

Mum ran to my side and started plastering slobbery kisses on my face. "Oh my baby, thank God you’re okay. I don't know what I would've done if anything had happened to you." She sobbed.

"Mum, stop! I’m okay now." I said irritably.

"What were you thinking?" My dad finally spoke up, maybe, after finding out I wasn’t dying. "Why were you fighting when you were outnumbered?" He asked with a slightly raised voice.

"They were going to rob us, dad," I said, hoping he would let everything go, but knowing my dad, he wouldn't. He talked and talked, telling me how thoughtless I was, how I loved making irrational decisions, having no critical thinking skills, and all that.

I breathed a sigh of relief when my brother walked in.

‘Thank God! I am saved!’

 Vincent called dad aside and had a few words with him. They always talked professionally. Dad had high respect for Vincent. There was no arguing that. He always saw himself in Vincent and was always proud to take him along during many business trips.

I knew my brother though. He always wanted to run for the hills whenever he was with dad. He hated the high expectation and all the showing off. Vincent loved his profession alright, but just like me, he felt controlled and caged. However, he was doing his best to get away from constantly seeing Dad, while I was doing a sloppy job from my end. God! I even attempted to rape someone. The thought of that left a terrible taste in my mouth.

"Hey mum, come on, let's give him space. The doctor said he needed his rest." Vincent said, coming over to pick mum off my bed and into his arms.

“He would be alright, right?” she asked Vincent, hesitating to leave me alone.

“Yes, mum,” Vincent assured and led her and dad outside.

In a short while, he came back in and sealed the door behind him. He came towards me with an emotion I knew too well.

He was mad at me. More than mad. Like Volcanic eruption mad. Somehow, I knew the reason for his anger wasn’t because of the hole in my neck. 

I braced myself.