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she looked up at the ceiling.
she wonders where she is.
she doesn’t want to think of last night.
she wants to move.
she tries, but fails.
she is too weak.
she closes her eyes.

“camila, get up.”
she hears a soft voice telling her to get up.
she wishes she could.
she wants to talk but she can’t.
she is too hurt.
she feels strong arms pick her up.
she doesn’t see who it is.
she realizes it’s him.
she realizes it was the man who beat her senseless.

“let me go,” she thinks.

she is too weak.
she tries to remember what happened last night.
she remembers.
she remembers the man telling her that her clothes were too revealing.
she was called a slut.
she was offended and told him that he was being rude, and that she would appreciate if he stopped.
she remembers him laughing, then slapping her.
she remembers her face drowning in tears.

she doesn’t want to remember.

“camila baby, i’m sorry what came over me, please forgive me.”

she had heard that for the 76th time.
she remembers getting beat up 76 times.
she wishes she was away from the man.
she wishes she was in a grassy field.
she wishes she was around beautiful flowers.
she wishes she could fall back into the grass and never come back to reality.
she wishes.
she wishes.
she keeps wishing.

she also wishes she had control.