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“Psssst, Charlotte,” a low voice hisses from my left. I turn to see a guy that I’ve never spoken to a few seats down. “I wanted to sleep with the prof for an A but it seems I’m not his type,” he laughs, “so I was thinking, if I slept with you instead, could you write my essay for me in exchange?”
I look away and don’t bother to reply. I just need the day to be over.
When the bell goes, I’m up and out of my seat before the ring has even died. I’m relieved to be free and I race across campus avoiding anyone’s gaze as I go.
Only, when I get to the car I skid to a stop as a sob of dismay escapes me. Every single window is smashed in, and scrawled in the paintwork across the bonnet is the word, “slag”. I fucking hate that word.
“Do you like your gift?” Charlie steps out from behind the car parked next to mine.
“Charlie, stop, please,” I beg. I’m so upset about the car. What am I going to do? How can I afford to fix it?
“Always knew you were a lying whore. Pleading poverty, yet somehow hiding this nice motor. What were you hoping? To bag yourself a ring from me to chase away all your money worries? Or after I dumped you did you shack up with someone new with a fat wallet to give you nice things?”
“You dumped me?” I ask incredulously as anger sparks in my chest. “How deluded are you?”
“You know, if you fell to your knees right now and begged for forgiveness, I could make this all go away.”
“Fuck you, Charlie, I have nothing I need to atone for where you’re concerned.”
“Of course, you’d have to suck my cock right here in the car park too,” he continues like I never even spoke.
“You’re fucking sick!” I tell him. My words get through; his eyes glitter triumphantly and he seems to actually view my words as some sort of compliment.
“You better believe it. Because when I’m done with you, that’ll be my line of defence.”
I shudder inside at his words because I know he means it, but outwardly I scoff. I can’t give this man any more power over me.
“Go home, Charlotte, or should I say back to the Royal Circus mansion of whoever you’re spreading your legs for this month.” His words send a frisson of fear through me. He knows where I live; he’s been watching.
“I swear to God, Charlie, you better stay the fuck away from me and my home. You have no idea what I’m capable of and I won’t be threatened and pushed.”
He laughs, a cruel, terrifying sound.
“Oh, Charlotte, I know more about you than you think. And I plan to use it all against you.” It’s a threat. An empty threat. It has to be.
Against my better judgement, I yank open the driver’s door, sweep broken glass off the seat as best I can, and climb in. No need to wind the window down to speak to him as I start up the engine.
“I’m warning you, Charlie, stay the fuck away!”
He smacks the side of the car as I rev the engine and start to drive.
“And I’m warning you, Raven…you better keep a closer eye on your daughter.”
Charlotte’s Diary
11/03/20
Fuck, I didn’t think it would be this hard! Some days it’s just a haze, others I’m surrounded by a darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. Is it this tough for everyone? Or just single mums? Or is it just me?
Don’t get me wrong, the baby is great.
I’m pretty sure, is actually an angel. But why don’t people tell you that it’s not the sleepless nights or the worrying that kills you? Why don’t they tell you that it’s the crippling loneliness that hurts so bad it makes you feel like you can’t breathe? That while the baby sleeps peacefully without a care in the world, you’ll be wringing out your pillow of all the tears you’ve shed? The weight of my regrets sits heavily on my heart, choking me.
Maybe it is just me.
I doubt anyone else would fuck their life up so spectacularly that they’d find themselves in this situation. Struggling to make ends meet; too stubborn to accept help; too proud to crawl back to the family I once had, begging for forgiveness and support.
No.
Some nights I consider it, come close to packing my bags even, but I won’t. I can’t go back. I’ve never been a quitter and I don’t intend to start now. Phoenix may be too young to understand, but I know what I’m doing. And I’m going to set an example for her.
We are survivors.
