The Boy with the Emerald Eyes

The raw truth of the injustices against women.

Emerald eyes

I caught his eyes looking at me across the dark room, filled with bodies and moving simultaneously to the sound of the music that was humming in my ears. Even from where I stood, his emerald eyes were piercing. I quickly flashed mine to my drink, hoping he didn’t notice me. After a moment, I cautiously glanced in his direction, my heart beating against my chest like a drum. He was gone. I let out a sigh of relief when I felt a warm hand on my back. I whirled around to discover that the boy with the emerald eyes was staring back into mine.

Speechless

My heart stopped. My mouth remained agape as he smiled at me, waiting for me to respond. Respond to what? I hadn’t even registered that he said something. My heart was dancing in my chest. The music went mute. I could feel a wave a chills push through my body from my fingertips to my toes. What did he ask me? I had no idea and I was far too petrified to tell him to repeat himself. He narrowed his eyes and smiled again, obviously amused with my inability to form words. I shook myself from my petrified stupor and began to formulate conversation with this boy. This boy. The one with the golden hair and the intricate scar on his face. This boy. The one with eyelashes that curled at the ends and a smile that formed delicate craters in his cheeks. What was it about him that made me lose all sense of reality?

Desire

As he spoke, I fell into the hole that was his seduction. His voice, steady and confident, led me to a place that I have never known. I did not realize we had closed the space between us until I could feel the brush of his skin against mine. He leaned in and offered to get me a drink. Of course I obliged at his gesture. I watched him walk away as I began to remember we were not the only two people in this room. In a moment’s notice, he returned with two red cups that were filled with a dark liquid. I had no idea what was inside, but was too taken with him and too drunk to care. 

As he continued to speak, everything began to slow down around me. I felt as though I was a world away, yet I was a mere foot from him. My knees started to mold into rubber. My words were escaping me again, but not from the nerves. The voices and the music began to fade into nothingness. I clung to the boy with the emerald eyes as I fell into his body; my legs finally giving way to the numbness. I felt him lift me from the ground and start to walk, although I had no idea where. My consciousness was rapidly fading. He placed me on what felt like a bed as I tried to sit up and regain control of my body. It didn’t work. The light in the room began to darken as I heard the sound of the boy shutting the door and clicking the lock. I tried to blink away the darkness, but sleep overcame me before the boy could even reach me.

Pain

My consciousness returned and left in spurts. I began to feel chills run down my body. I opened my eyes to see him slipping the straps from my dress off my shoulders and removing the fabric entirely from my body, leaving me cold, helpless, and exposed. 

He stared at me as I lay there, paralyzed and terrified. He bit his lip as he grabbed what was left of my clothes and tore it from my motionless body. I wanted to protest, to scream, but my lips refused to move. He pushed my legs apart and grasped my neck with his hand, forcing the breath from my lungs. I felt a sudden rush of pain radiate through my body. Over and over and over again.

I used all the power I could manage and turned my head to face the purple wall so I wouldn’t have to look into his emerald eyes. A tear slid down my cheek as my body moved from his forces. After what felt like eternity, I felt him remove himself from me and buckle his jeans. Without a word he opened the door and left me there, naked and alone. 

To him, this was nothing. He would be able to go about his life, happily and unchanged, yet mine would be changed forever. This is the raw reality for women. We get broken down and ripped apart by men who believe they are of the highest order in society. Situations like this happen everyday, but the men get away with it because they are athletes, politicians, police officers, or professors. Why does alcohol and other factors excuse his actions but condemn ours? This is the reality for women. It is time we rise up, protect each other, and demand action and consequence from the predators that disguise themselves as normal.

Just like the boy with the emerald eyes.

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The Boy with the Emerald Eyes
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