So Young, So Damaged Chapter 2

I managed to get myself up in the morning, surprisingly. I felt..horrible. I wasn't quite sure what exactly happened last night, but I knew it was terrible, I could feel it.
I sat on the edge of my bed for a minute, and stared at the floor, realizing I needed to start getting ready for school. It was Monday and I hated everything a little bit more than usual.
Or a lot more.
I walked over my mirror, and started playing around with my makeup, not really knowing what I usually did first, you know, the daily routine of makeup I'd done every single day this whole entire year. I stopped messing with my mascaras, and looked up at myself in the mirror. I studied my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my whole face, and asked myself...'why me?' and 'Why did something like that have to happen?' or 'why do I have to feel this way?' and, 'God, I still love him so much.'
It was wrong, it was all wrong. I knew it, but I didn't know what happened. It was still a blur.
I got dressed, did my makeup, attempted to straighten my hair, but turned off my straightener and gave up. I walked out of my room, grabbed my bag, and waited at the door for my mom.
"What's wrong?" She asked as soon as she saw me.
"What? Nothing. It's Monday." I said quickly.
She looked at me for a minute, and grabbed her bag.
"I'm gonna be late, let's go." She said opening the door and walking out.
She drove me to school, and dropped me off.
I got out of the car without a word, and walked into school.
I felt like a zombie. I felt clueless. I felt shocked. I felt like s**t.
It wasn't until 3rd hour, in history.
I sat silently in my seat, with my head resting on one hand and I played with the chains on my pants with the other hand, looking down. I'd been thinking about it all day, I'd been trying to remember, searching every area of my thoughts for the answer on what happened last night.
And it hit me. I looked around, everyone else around me were talking and laughing with their friends. I looked back down.
I remember what happened last night.
And that was clearly too much to handle.
I stared hard at the floor, and before I knew it, I had no time to bite my lip and get myself under control, the tears came, and there was no stopping them. I couldn't hear anything, no one around me, nothing but my thoughts. I felt like I had faded into my own s****y world, all because I realized what happened last night.
He had raped me last night. In his car. Outside of my house.
He had actually done it. It was forced, right? Or did I let him? Did I do it willingly?
As I sat there trying to hide my face and wipe my tears at the same time, more and more memory of last night came back to me, and ate away at my brain.
No. No I did NOT do it willingly. Not at all. I remembered telling him no, and not tonight, I remember trying to get out of the car, but he wouldn't let me. I remember when he stopped making out with me, looked me in the eye, and said the three words no one should ever say to someone while looking them in the eye, right before they're planning as ruining them as a person, and leaving them with something that haunts them.
He looked me in the eye and said, "I love you."
I remembered that.
And before I knew it, I had rememered the whole entire night. I couldn't process it, yet I understood exactly what he did.
You never really think it will happen to you, then it just takes you by surprise, happens, and ruins everything.
Because I couldn't stop replaying everything that happened over and over in my head. I sat there with my head in my hands, crying.
Do I turn him in? Do I tell the police? What do I do?
After thinking about it for the rest of class, by the time I left, I decided I don't do anything. I don't tell anyone. I don't get him in trouble. Because I love him.
I refused to talk to anyone the rest of the day, and I ditched 5th hour to go and cry in the bathroom. People asked me over and over what was wrong, but I just looked past them, and walked away. Tried to escape. I didn't want to be around people. Not after realizing what people are capable and willing to do to someone they love. I didn't trust anyone, now. If he loved me, but did that, what could other people do? I tried to avoid my guy friends, and I tried to just walk away from my girl friends. I didn't want to talk to anyone.
It was disgusting, and I couldn't stop replaying it in my head. It's all I could think about, I saw every minute of it over and over. I felt like I had to relive it, because it's all that would play in my head. I didn't want to relive it. I didn't want to think about it. I wanted it all to stop. I couldn't handle it, I just couldn't.
I got home, tried to act normal around my mom, then went to bed finally.
Well, tried. I layed in my bed for what seemed like hours, still thinking about it. It made me sick to my stomach. How could someone do such a sick thing to someone they supposedly have feelings for? And why did it have to be HIM that did it? Why, the one guy that I love with all my heart and would do anything for. Why would he take advantage of me like that?
Why. That is all I could ask myself, in between replaying it in my head. Why.
It wasn't fair. Although nothing that happens to me was fair.
I finally managed to drift off into sleep, hoping to God I wouldn't wake up the next  morning.