Scott rolled over in his bed again. He couldn't sleep again. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was only 2:18. A long time till morning. It had been almost a week since he had some to this place, this school. And he hadn't slept since. They attributed his tiredness and blood-shot eyes to withdraw from the drugs he had been on. But that was only part of it.
Every time he drifted off to sleep he would see images. He would see himself, laying in his bed, then she would come in. Scott usually woke himself up then, but the images always lingered. And more came. He was driving himself crazy as his mind replayed it all. Her calling his name, saying she was scared. She would climb into his bed. Then she would start toucking him. Just light caresses on his arms at first, but then she'd go lower. After a few times he began shutting down at that point, closing his eyes and trying to ignore what was going on, but it never helped. He couldn't keep himself from knowing what was going on. And he couldn't help his reactions. No matter how disgusted he got with her, nothing changed.
The first time it had happened, he was only 15. When she'd come to his room, he hadn't really understood her purposes, at least not until it was to late. Afterwards he had wanted to tell somebody, but he didn't. He was to ashamed to. Ashamed that he hadn't stopped her the first time. As time passed she visited him more and more. He couldn't do anything now, if he did everyone would blame him for waiting so long. He figured it had to end sometime and decided to wait it out.
But it never stopped. Only a month after it started she came almost every night. He couldn't sleep at all, not even when she wasn't there. He became more closed off, his grades dropped, and he was kicked off the football team. Most of his friends left him and he was alienating his own father. He started using drugs then. At first it was just downers so he could sleep. Then a few uppers, mainly crack, so he could get up in the morning.
His few remaining friends left him then. And he barely passed the semester at school. His homelife was even worse. He couldn't look his father in the eye anymore, so he avoided him altogether. He got in fights with everyone now. Especially his stop-mother. He made it clear to everyone that he disliked her, but still no one figured it out. They thought he thought she broke his parents up. No one ever thought she was the cause of his behavior. They all considered her an innocent victem of his misplaced hate.
Still, she came to his room at night. Pretending to be afraid of the rain or thunder. She came the night before, and he was prepared. Already high, he always hoped to just black out. Let her do anything to him, as long as he couldn't remember it all.
But he always remembered. Always.
Turning over again, Scott wondered if he'd ever sleep peacefully again.