"Rowan!" My Mom pounded on my door, making me groan in annoyance. "Rowan, I'm leaving in about five minutes to take your brother to school before I go to work. I want to see you up before I go." I rolled over and pulled my pillow over my head, trying to block out the noise. It didn't work. "Rowan, I hope you're up!" She pounded again.

"Okay, I'm up! I'm up..." I muttered but stayed in bed. My bedroom door flung open to reveal my mother, looking very annoyed.

"I don't know what up means to you, but to me it means you out of bed." She wasn't going to give up. I groaned and threw the covers off, feeling cold instantly. I forced myself out of bed and looked at my mother, inquisitively.

"Better?" I asked and she put a smile on her face.

"Better." She nodded. "Have a good day at school sweetheart." She planted a big kiss on my cheek and ruffled my already messy hair.

"Mom..." I groaned. "I'm seventeen."

"Yes you are, but you're still my little boy. Oh, I almost forgot, I'm going to be home late tonight. There's a lasagna you can cook for you and Lachlan. I have a date." She flaunted.

"Really?" I asked, slightly surprised. I couldn't remember the last date my Mom went on, hell, I wasn't sure she had been on a date since my father.

"Don't look so surprised. Your mother still has it." She danced, trying to act cool but accomplished just the opposite as she attempted to twerk. I was just glad we were in the privacy of our own home so no one had to see but me.

"Ew, Mom!" Lachlan complained about Mom's vulgar dancing from the hallway, covering his eyes. I just laughed.

"If you're uncomfortable then we need to do this more often." She pointed out.

"Mom we need to go, I don't want to be late." He tugged on her sleeve.

"Okay." She said to Lachlan and then turned back to me. "Bye honey." I gave a wave and shut my door behind her.

I wanted nothing more to crawl back into dress but school was mandatory to my mother. At least a high school education was important to her, to have a future. If I didn't go to school, she'd probably kick me out of the house and the street life wasn't for me. So I got dressed, not really caring what I put on and ran down the stairs.

My stomach growled and I microwaved a chicken leg, left over from last nights supper. I ate it down to the bone and checked the time. I still had ten minutes, but I couldn't think of anything to do with those ten minutes so I grabbed my car keys and locked the front door behind me.

My old, light blue, jeep was sitting in the driveway. The car was my baby, I wasn't great with girls but I had my car. At least that was what my friend Wesley told me, then again he always had a girlfriend.

I turned the key and heard an awful sound as I tried to start it. I winced and turned it again, hoping for a different outcome.

"Come on, come on." I muttered, trying to will it to start. Just my luck, it wouldn't start. "Shit." I pounded on the steering wheel, turning it one last time but the sound only got worse. "Fuck." I hit the dash, hoping it would miraculously start, but I was shit out of luck. I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and started running down the street, hoping it wasn't too late to catch the bus.

Three teenagers stood at the bus stop and I sighed in relief. I was just in time, seconds later the bus rolled up. Climbing on, just about every seat was full, except for a few right up front. I picked one and quickly sat down, not wanting to draw any extra attention to myself.

I leaned against the bus wall and pulled my headphones out of my pocket, drowning out the crowd with my music. Something under my arm made me feel uncomfortable. I tried to ignore it, it's probably part of the bus. Once I felt it, I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I finally looked.

A notebook was wedged between the seat and the metal wall. I picked it up, thinking I'd look inside, find a name and return it to the rightful owner. I'd fail my classes if I lost my notes, I thought, but I didn't find a name. I didn't find class notes either. Instead was a date at the top of the page. January sixteenth, almost two months ago and in bold letters underneath were three simple words, but put together made for a terrible sentence.

I WAS RAPED.

I slammed the journal shut. With those words in front of me, my heart sunk into my stomach. I didn't want to believe what I read. I hadn't heard those words in three years, since my Mom told me the exact same thing. I was fifteen when my Mom gave me the sex talk and she explained to me what it meant to have consent. Of course it sounded like a load of bullshit to a fifteen year old me, I didn't understand how serious it was. So she told me her story. Then I understood.

The man was never caught, never punished for his actions and that pissed me off, but there was nothing I could do about it.

The urge to keep reading grew and grew. I knew it wasn't right, it was someone's private property but I read the opening statement and there was no going back. I opened the journal back to the first page.

I haven't been able to say it outloud. It feels kind of good to get it down on paper. For just over a month I've just pretended it didn't happen, pretended that I was just a normal girl. But it did and I'm not. I was raped on December 2, 2016.

I jumped when I noticed every one standing up around me. The bus had pulled into the school parking lot. Quickly I put the journal into my bag and walked off the bus.

Zach threw his arm around me and pulled me into a headlock. He was a friend, a big football player who'd probably had one too many concussions, but a friend nonetheless. "There you are man. What happened to your car?"

"Wouldn't start." I told him. "So I had to take the bus." He nodded. "Can I catch a ride with you? I have a feeling I'm shit out of luck with my car." He had a brand new Chevy that his parents gave him for his eighteenth birthday. God I was jealous. What I'd give to have a truck like that.

"Uh- yeah sure man." The bell rang. "Well, I already want it to be lunch." He laughed. "Gotta keep that GPA up though if I want to stay on the football team." He turned and ran off to class.

I walked slowly to my first period class, Global Geography with Mr. Oliver, who would probably be high as a kite like usual.

"Hey Rowan? Can I get a copy of your English notes?" Caleb caught up with me, looking at me like his life depended on him getting my English notes. I knew he hadn't started our essay that was due tomorrow on The Great Gatsby, while I finished mine a week ago.

"Yeah sure. I'll photocopy them at lunch." I told him.

"Thanks Rowan, you're a fucking lifesaver." He groaned and gave me a nod before walking off. I rolled my eyes, he was going to fail that essay, our English teacher was a hardass.

Mr. Oliver was leaning back in his desk chair, staring up at the ceiling. Yup, stoned, I confirmed and sat in my regular seat three rows from the front.

"Get out your textbooks and do the assignment on page ninety-three." He told us, not taking his eyes from the ceiling. I flipped to the right page, quickly recognizing it from the beginning of the semester when he'd given it to us as a homework assignment. Half the class recognized it but no one said anything, as if he'd care anyway.

"You know Shania Collins?" Kevin turned around and whispered. Girls called him a fuckboy, I just thought he was a dick, but I nodded anyways. "I was at this party and she was there and she was looking so damn fine." Shania was an eccentric girl in her junior year. She was hot but she was crazy. I nodded like I was interested, when in reality all I was thinking about was that journal.

"I have a big assignment I have to do, but tell me more later." I lied.

"I forgot you were smart." He laughed and turned back to facing the front of the classroom.

I opened up the journal inside of my English book.

January 10th

I hate that I have to see him everyday. The school couldn't feel any smaller. I wish I didn't go to Haling Cove High School-

I almost fell out of my seat. She goes to my school. I looked around, wondering who the journal belonged to.

It's my senior year and I can't just ask my parents to move. I hate this, I hate him.

I wanted to know who the rapist was roaming freely through Haling Cove High's hallways and I wanted him to pay for hurting her.

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