Personal Expression, Release, and Exploration of the theme of "Breaking"



Part Two

Ten Years Later


Nadia didnt want to go to the party that night, but her friend Laynie had been insisting.  Laynie hated going to parties alone, due to her agoraphobia and mild social anxiety issues, and the friends that normally went with her were either busy or out of town.  She loved parties though, she just needed a companion with her to help her feel at ease.  She also liked to push her own boundaries socially, she didn’t want to be ruled by her fears.  She also thought Nadia needed to push herself more too.  So, she had insisted that Nadia accompany her.  


They had had met at a support group for people with depression and bipolar disorder.  Nadia had forced herself to go, to break out of her all-too-often isolation which had gotten worse lately since her last breakup.  Her boyfriend, Sean, had been the person she had spent most of her time with.  She was shy and introverted, although not to the extent that she had been growing up, she still shied away from people and struggled at making new friends.  She also didn’t trust people very much and preferred her own company and that of her books and music to that of most people out there.  She had learned the hard way through life how messed up people could be.  And also most were so superficial, all they cared about were trivial things most of the time, and they were so damn judgemental.  Sean though, had developed a liking to her, and had made his way past some of her defenses, by being assertive and persistent, and she had developed feelings for him.  But a month before, he had broken up with her, he couldn’t deal very well with her insecurities and mood swings, and got fed up and decided he needed a clean break, and she had been devastated.  She had at first called him obsessively, feeling she couldn’t live without him.  But he ignored her calls.  She had felt abandoned and broken at first, and had lost all interest in living and in doing anything,  but slowly she started taking interest in other things again, and not wanting to be stuck in isolation.  So she had made herself go to that group, she needed a human connection and besides, she had suffered from depression off and on for as long as she could remember, to one degree or another.  


So Nadia had desired to come out of her shell some, and forced herself, despite her nervousness, to go to that meeting.   There, she had been befriended by Laynie, a sweet, pretty girl who could be rather bubbly when she wasn’t in depression, and who suffered from mild social anxiety, so could relate to Nadia, plus, agoraphobia, which in Laynie’s case kept her from going out alone. 


Laynie had insisted that Nadia go to this party tonight with her, and Nadia had given in, because she did want to have more fun in her life, and you never knew, she could meet some new people, although mostly she was going because Laynie was looking forward to it so much. 


So Nadia took extra care with her appearance that evening, choosing a little black dress that accentuated her curves, making sure her long, silky dark hair looked just right, and applying dark eyeliner and lipstick.  


and allowed herself to feel twinges of excitement about what the evening would bring. 

This is part one of a story I am piecing together…it is detailed in talking about bullying,social exclusion, and attempted sexual assault.  So if this triggers, please be warned and don’t read it if it causes too much stress.  It is a part of a much larger story, and will be continued.

it also has not been edited yet. Please excuse the typos, etc.  it will be edited. 




All through school growing up, she had been bullied and made fun of.  She had been painfully shy and as a result, did not speak in school to the other kids.  The only time she had spoken was when she was spoken to first, and then, it was still hard for her to get words out in response.  Her voice was quiet and hesitant, and she said as little as possible.  Even when they verbally taunted and abused her, she didn’t speak up.  She just took it, tried to withdraw into herself, and to not acknowledge it.  She tried not to show how it hurt her.  Occasionally, she would be driven to tears, and her face would burn from the humiliation of them knowing they’d gotten to her.  


They despised her her and they saw her as an easy target.  The way she dressed, carried herself, her quietness, all these served to inflame then.  She didn’t really understand fashion, or what was stylish, and not only that, she didn’t really care.  She didn’t understand why she needed to wear certain types of clothes, the same that everyone else wore. She just wanted to wear what she liked.  Her hair was long and dark and she hid behind it like it was a shield from the world.  She was hesitant and slow in her movements and often didn’t pay enough attention to what was going around her.  And, she hardly ever spoke.  They thought she was a freak, that she was crazy, and stupid, and not cool or attractive.  She didn’t fit into their world. 


She he was alone all the time at school. She walked alone down the hallways, she sat alone in the cafeteria (until she figured out that she could go hide in the restroom and eat in there).  


She he was a lonely child.  And her self esteem was in the lowest depths, because they taught her that she was nothing, or, worse than nothing.  if she was just a nonentity, at least, they’d leave her alone.  But instead they took every opportunity to let her know how despised and worthless she was.  


The he only time boys approached her was as a joke or to bully her.  She watched the other girls start to receive male attention, to get asked out, to have boyfriends.  The time she developed a crush on one boy in her grade, his friends humiliated her in front of him, and he wa laughing with them.  She knew that she was ugly and no boy would ever like her.  


When she was fifteen, she felt ugly and awkward, and knew no guy would be interested in her…but what she didn’t know was that she had a unique attractiveness about her, that the guys at school it was true, couldn’t see, but men who were a little older and in the community, and even boys her age who didn’t go to school with her and didn’t know her as the outcast who they all ridiculed, seeing her for the first time, noticed.  There was a an allure about her that she was completely unaware of.  she had long, wild hair that fell in soft tangles down her back and over her shoulders.  She had large hazel eyes, that shone with an inner light that had not been extinguished by anyone despite all her pain and self doubt.  She had a fragile, petite body and just enough curves to capture attention. She had an unusual sense of style, but wore interesting clothing.  And her face had a dreamy, distant look, and her vulnerability was there, although she hid behind a wall she had created.  She had enough of  a sense of distance and mystery about her created by both her tendency to be list in thought and her attempts at distance and dissociation.  


So, she was noticed.  she stood out. her aura of innocence and vulnerability and fragile appearance caught the attention of a number of men.  Some of them though, being able to see that she was underage, inexperienced, and naive, realized it wouldn’t be right to approach her, or were afraid of legal repercussions. Though there were other men who had no such misgivings.  They found her fragile ness, feminine allure, shyness, naïveté,and young age turn ons, and saw she was someone who they could use, control, and abuse as well.  There was a group of young men, between the ages of eighteen and twenty one, of about six people, who hung out together, partied, and looked for ways to entertain themselves in this small town.  And when they discovered Nadia, they had hit the jackpot. 


They used deception to on to captivate her and seduce her.  One of them, a ruggedly good looking guy named Chris, approached her.  He convinced her that he was interested in her, and knew exactly how to draw her in. He was the first to make her feel that she was worth anyone’s attention, and that he had affection for her.  He also knew how to be dominant.  He combined a toughness and gentleness, sensuality and tenderness, in the way he behaved with her.  he spent time with her, drawing her out, and he seduced her.  She feel for him hard.  For the first time she felt she was worth something, and she had something to live for, to fill her with happiness, and make her burn with desire.  She had had fantasy crushes before. And she would fantasize about them doing things to her.  She also had fantasizes about being rescued, comforted, and loved, cherished.  It seemed like this was actually happening in real life and she was overjoyed.  Her guard was totally down.  When he set her up so that his group of friends showed up unexpectedly and expected her to give her body to them too, she never saw it coming.  She was confused and  scared.  Then they started in with the insults and the degradation  when she was reluctant, she felt her whole body shaking, tears streamed down her face, she felt like she had been hit hard and the breath was knocked out of her, because Chris, it became obvious, was going along with them, laughing with them, and tried to persuade her to give in to them.  She knew for the first time true betrayal, shame and horror…she stood there in shock at first and then got up and bolted for the door….but…they blocked her…two of them picked her up by the arms and legs and carried her to the bed, tossed her on it…. She struggled and tried to flee.  she was pinned down…they were pulling her clothes off…she heard herself screaming, knew she was crying…


then all of a sudden she heard female voices in the other room call out… “Guys, we’re back! Chris, you guys,”.  


All of a sudden everything stopped. the men’s’ hands let go of her, they scrambled, out of the room, calling out, “girls! Girls! We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow!” And their feet bustling out of the room.  she was confused, shaking like mad, burning with fear and pain coursing through her, but she realized that this was her chance.  She had to get out of there.  That was all that mattered.  She shut herself down, numbed herself, and forced herself into a single minded focus, as she got up, pulled her clothes over herself, pulled her jacket on, and snuck out the back door.  She ran.  




    ten years later…


to be continued






He found her when she was traumatized, wounded, shaking, and took care of her, made her feel safe, comforted her, held her close. He listened to her pain, fear, breaking, and cupped her face in his strong hands, looked deeply into her eyes and told her she was safe, that she would be okay again, that he would protect her and care for her. He stroked her hair slowly and gently and held her tightly against him, cradling her, holding her together. She didn’t want to leave his side and he had her stay in his small apartment with him. He felt a longing inside him awaken and simmering inside, but he didn’t want to violate her after what had already happened, he knew what he could do to her but he didn’t want to injure her in her fragility. His tenderness and compassion toward her, wanting to nurture and protect her, allowed him to hold her in his arms, soothe her, without letting his passion to possess and consume her take over in those first few weeks.

But one night he came out of the shower and found her on the couch curled up softly crying. He came over to her and stroked her back and turned her have to look into her eyes. He assumed it was the trauma, although she had been becoming more and more back to her old self, and her mood had been slowly improving, she talked and laughed a lot more, but he thought she was overcome again. “Nadia, what’s going on honey?” He asked her, searching her large green eyes with his dark penetrating ones. “Are you remembering what happened again?”

“N-no, that’s not it,” she answered in a soft, hesitant voice, her eyes looked shy and unsure, and she quickly looked down.

“What is it, Nadia? Talk to me,” he insisted.

“I-I…” She trailed off.

“What? What is it? Tell me,” he spoke gently but insistently.

“I..I have..feelings…”

He was confused. “Feelings, what kind of feelings?”

She looked anxious, agitated. She looked around the room as if she wanted to escape. He took her head in his hands and held it still, forcing her to look at him. “What kind of feelings?” He repeated.

“I want…I want you things…I want…to be…but I don’t…i don’t know if you want me…” Her face was flushed and her breathing anxious, and quick.

He was stunned for a moment and the words were slow in coming. He realized then. He realized what she wanted. A line had been crossed. Desire burned in him.

In a swift move he pushed her back against the couch, pinning her, his hands in her hair, he kissed her on the mouth hard, devouringly…he kissed and licked the tears on her cheeks, her eyes…she whimpered in his arms as if she was breaking inside, he continued to assault her senses…

Sent from my iPad

“Driven Like the Snow” Andrew Eldritch of The Sisters of Mercy

Still night, nothing for miles,
White curtain come down,
Kill the lights in the middle of the road
And take a look around…
It don’t help to be one of the chosen
One of the few, to be sure
When the wheels are spinning around
And the ground is frozen through, and you’re
Driven, like the snow
Pure in heart
Driven together
And given
Away to the west
A white dress
Till the river don’t run
A black dress
Looking like mine
Till the sun don’t shine no more
Where the sky meet the ground
Where the street fold ’round
Where the voice you hold don’t
Make no sound, look
Snow on the river and two by two
Took a lot to live a lot like you, I don’t
Go there now, but I hear they sung
Their “fuck me And marry me young”
Some wild idea and a big white bed, now
You know better than that, I said,
Like a voice in the wind blow little crystals down
Like brittle things will break before they turn
Like lipstick on my cigarette
And the ice get harder overhead
Like think it twice but never never learn…

And the mist will wrap around us
And the crystal, if you touch it…
And the cars
Lost in the drift
Are there
And the people that drive
Lost in the drift
Are there
And the cares
I’ve lost in the drift
Are there
Theirs, ours,
Lost in the drift
Driven together
And driven

On Not Pushing People Into Forgiveness At Times or Ways That They Are Not Ready

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