July 4th, 2002-July 6th, 2003
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Not suitable for children, or for people who don't think they can handle....somewhat disgusting/perverted/mature scenes. Beware!! Don't say I didn't warn ya. Some Julianna fans may not want to read this..I got pretty graphic. Also, there is a bit of a NC-17 scene in here (if you catch my drift), but it's not...bad, so you should be okay. :)
Oh, and I think everybody should read the disclaimer (which is at the side of this screen - on the menu "page") just so you all understand! Don't want anybody to get the wrong meaning from all this.
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The entire house was ablaze with the lights she had turned on. She didn't want to be alone in the darkness. She didn't want to be alone at all. She didn't want anyone to see her. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, and her body was a jumble of pain. Julianna slid onto her bed and curled herself into a tight little ball. She wrapped her arms tightly around her legs and buried her face into her pillow. And suddenly the tears began.
Hot rolling tears slid down her cheeks and sobs choked her. She couldn't breath so she pulled her head away from the pillow. She wanted to close her eyes, wanted to so badly, but she was afraid of not being able to see. She had to see what was going on around her. She couldn't be left in the dark.
"Oh God, oh God." She murmured over and over again through her sobs. Briefly she thought of Ron, remembered that he was visiting his parents back home in New York, while she had stayed in L.A. She wished he was there, to keep her safe, but she knew she wouldn't be able to let him near her now. She was so disgusted with herself. He would be too. She needed someone, somebody, but at the same time she knew that she couldn't have anyone near her.
She let out a soft wail and turned her head into the pillow, trying to drown out the sound of her own pain as she remembered. Walking home with her keys between her fingers, always scared, always prepared for someone to jump out of the shadows. The one night, the one night she didn't take her car, it happened. He had jumped out of the dark alley, grabbing her around the neck and covering her mouth with something that had smelled awful. She had tried to cut him with her keys and had managed one scratch before he had twisted her wrist and taken the keys away from her. He had dragged her back into that alley. She had been so weak compared to him. Even though she knew she was physically strong for a woman, he had still managed to get her down and..
"No, no, no, no!" Julianna groaned into the pillow. She didn't want to relive it, she didn't want to see it happen all over again in her head. But she couldn't stop it.
The man had violated her first with his fingers, touching her everywhere she didn't want to be touched. And then he had raped her. He wouldn't stop, over and over, pounding into her. Hurting her. Everywhere. It hurt. All she could remember was the pain. She had tried to fight back, but she couldn't. She gave up, and let herself drift away, trying to escape the pain. But she couldn't. The man had finally groaned and finished what he had set out to do. He had then hopped off of her and ran away, leaving her there to fend for herself, or worse, die. But she hadn't died, as much as she had hoped then that she would. Eventually she had picked herself up off the street and managed to get home, although she couldn't quite remember how.
Hot tears continued to roll down her face. Several emotions whirled within her and she couldn't think, couldn't do anything about it. Rage filled her because of her weakness. She hated the weakness she felt, she now felt, as a woman. Pity for herself filled her. Sadness, physical pain. Everything tried to overwhelm her. She didn't know how to manage it all.
Finally she slid from the bed and somehow walked to the bathroom door, despite the fact that the place between her legs was aching horribly bad. Sobs still erupted from her, but she managed to turn the shower on. She stripped her clothes off and tried hard to ignore the blood in her underwear. She stepped under the spray, not caring that it was scalding hot. She needed to have her skin burnt off. She needed to wash herself away. Away from the pain, from the memories, from the emotions, from everything. She turned down the heat, just slightly, and slid to the floor of the shower. The water rained over her and she sat, sobbing, clutching her legs together tightly. She remembered that her attacker had used a condom, and that she was on the pill and thanked God, if he existed, that she was. She wasn't sure now whether to believe a God could let such a thing happen to her, to any woman. Nearly an hour later she managed to pull herself out of the shower. She wrapped herself up in towels and went as quickly as she could to the bedroom. She dug through her drawers until she found the biggest clothes she could find. She put them on quickly, covering every inch of her body but her face. She walked back to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet. She found some old sleeping pills and took three, even though only two were prescribed to be taken at once. She wanted to sleep for as long as she could. She found her way back to the bed and curled up under all the covers, curling into a protective little ball before she fell into a deep sleep.
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The next afternoon Julianna awoke around 4:30 PM. The pills had knocked her out for almost seventeen hours. When she rolled over, fighting the grogginess, she remembered. She drew in a sharp breath and stilled her body. She lay there, barely breathing and not moving at all for at least five minutes, just listening. When she was somewhat sure that no one was in the house, she managed to get herself out of bed. She felt tears building up but she knew she wouldn't let them out. She wouldn't cry, not now. Instead she would get in the shower and scrub her body all over again and wait for Ron's arrival home later that night.
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Around 7 PM that night, Ron arrived home. Julianna was sitting on the couch, buried amongst her large sweater and loads of blankets. She wasn't cold, but the layers made her feel more protected. When Ron walked in, he smiled at her. She forced a smile, but she knew he could probably tell it wasn't genuine, but he said nothing. He dropped his suitcase and came around the couch to kiss her, but she slid down and turned her head into the pillow.
"Hello." She said. He stood beside the couch, puzzled.
"Hi Jules." He said.
"How was your trip?" She asked and stared at the television.
"Good." He said, wondering what in the hell was going on.
"How's your family?" She asked.
"Great. They wondered about you."
"Oh." She replied, noncommittally.
"Is something wrong?" He asked.
"No." She said somewhat quietly. He nodded.
"Right." He said, not believing her for one second. He turned and walked back to his suitcase and picked it up. He walked up the stairs. She closed her eyes and felt the tears building up again. She managed to blink them away. She loved Ron, she did. But she couldn't let him touch her, couldn't tell him what happened. She didn't want him to get disgusted with her. She didn't want anyone to know, ever.
That night Julianna slept on the couch while Ron slept in their bed upstairs.
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Two days later, Ron was getting completely frustrated. She hadn't let him touch or kiss her since he had returned. He was confused and pissed off. He loved her, but sometimes he didn't understand her. So he decided to confront her.
He came home from a day on the set of one of his low budget films to find her on the couch once more. He immediately placed his things on the kitchen table and walked into the living room. He pressed the button on the television to turn it off and stood in front of it, staring at her.
"Hi." She said.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked.
"What?" She asked.
"What is your problem?" He repeated.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She said.
"Yes, you do, dammit. Julianna, ever since I got home from New York, you haven't let me touch you. You haven't let me kiss you. I know you and I know that that's not you. Something is wrong, and I want to know what it is."
"Nothing." She said, her eyes wide from his heated voice.
"Damnit, Julianna!" He shouted. She jumped and curled up further under the covers, trying to hide herself from his wrath. He was so angry that he didn't notice. "This is fucking stupid!" He said, nearly growling. Then he noticed her semi-scared form and he shuddered, his anger suddenly flooding out of him. All that was left to replace it was sadness. "Are you cheating on me?" He asked quietly. Her eyes widened farther. "Before you answer, I just want to know the truth. Please, Jules, are you?" He asked. She sat up a bit from her place on the couch and shook her head.
"No, Ron, I'm not." She whispered. "I swear to you." He sighed and walked toward her, but she shied back so he stopped. He knew she was telling the truth because even though she was a wonderful actress, he knew she wouldn't lie to him, especially if he asked her not to.
"Then please, please tell me what is wrong." He said. Tears filled her eyes then and she shook her head.
"I can't." She whispered. He nodded.
"Alright." He said and walked out of the room. She began to cry harder, burying her face into the blankets and pillows that surrounded her.
"I'm sorry." She whispered into them.
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The next morning when Julianna awoke from another night on the couch, she knew she couldn't continue on this way. She had to leave the house sometime. She had things to do. She could do laundry, go grocery shopping, buy herself a new outfit to make herself feel better, although she knew it wouldn't work. But she knew she had to get up and go on or else she'd probably die on that couch, buried under those blankets.
An hour later she had showered and done her hair and was dressed. She was going out.
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Julianna held a handful of bags in one hand. In the other hand she held her keys, ready for somebody to jump out at her. They hadn't worked last time, but she didn't give up her faith in them. They were a weapon, no matter how slight.
She was walking along the sidewalks by the little shops and going into whatever one struck her fancy. But now she was hungry. So she was heading back to her car to drop all of her bags off and then she was going to eat at the little cafe across from where she parked.
Within a matter of minutes she had dropped off her bags and was headed across the street, keys still in hand. Julianna found a table under a small tree, to keep her shaded from the sun in the outdoor cafe. She opened up the menu and flipped through it, deciding she wanted a grilled chicken salad. She turned the page of the menu and saw a list of drinks. Alcohol is just what I need, she thought. When the waitress came she ordered her salad and her drink, and prepared to enjoy it.
And enjoy it she did. She had three drinks before she decided she should stop. She was enjoying the calm little buzz she had going on, but she knew if she continued drinking, she wouldn't be able to get herself home. So she paid the bill and hopped into her small car.
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Later that night when Ron arrived home from the set, he was surprised to not find Julianna laying on the couch. Instead she was in the kitchen, cooking something in a pan.
"Jules?" He asked, coming into the kitchen. She swirled around and dropped the spatula she was holding.
"Well, shit, Ron you scared the hell outta me." She said and grinned madly at him. His eyebrows rose.
"Have you been drinking?" He asked. She laughed.
"Of course not." She said and walked to the half-empty bottle that was sitting on the counter that Ron had just now noticed. She took a swig. "Why would you think that?" She laughed hysterically at her own joke.
"How many have you had?" He asked.
"Oh, five or six?" She shrugged. "Beats me." Ron knew that she had had more than five or six. He'd seen her drink more than ten before and not be that drunk. He'd never seen her that drunk. All of a sudden, a burning smell filled the air.
"What are you cooking?" He asked.
"Huh?" She replied and stumbled a bit on her feet. He went to steady her but she backed up. "Don't touch me!" She said angrily. He nodded and dropped his hands.
"Okay." He walked to the stove and picked up the dropped spatula that was lying on the counter. He grabbed a dish towel and then the handle of the frying pan and put it onto a cold burner. She had burnt her eggs.
"You burnt the eggs." He said.
"Well, fuck!" She said a little too loudly. Then she giggled. "Damn eggs. Who the hell burns eggs?" She asked. Then she plopped herself down on the floor with her bottle and began to hum. He sighed and went about getting rid of the eggs. He put the pan in the sink and turned to look at her. She was leaning against the refrigerator with her eyes closed and her humming was becoming softer.
"Jules?" He said quietly.
"Hm?" She asked without opening her eyes.
"I think you need to go to bed." He said.
"Yeah." She said. "Yeah, bed. Sleeping. Sleeping is good." She said and peered up at him. He bent down.
"Hand me the bottle, okay?" He asked. She set it on the floor and he reached for it while she watched him warily. Inside, his stomach was twisting into knots. She really didn't want him to touch her. Did she really hate him that much? He grabbed the bottle and stood up to place it onto the counter. In the morning he'd get rid of it. Julianna tried to get up, but she was too intoxicated to have much balance. He held out a hand and watched her eye it. Then because she had no other choice, she reached up and took ahold of his helping hand. He helped her up, but he only touched her arm and he immediately let her go once she was steady. Through her alcohol induced stage, she was grateful to him for that. He may not understand why she was that way, but at least he realized she didn't want him to touch her. She headed to the living room and his heart ached. She was going to sleep on the couch again. She only stumbled twice on her way there, and he made no move to help her. She was also thankful for that. She climbed onto the couch, fully dressed and pulled all the covers over her body.
"Goodnight." He said.
"Mm." She murmured and watched him turn out all the lights and go up the stairs slowly. She immediately drifted off to sleep once she was sure he was gone.
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The next morning Julianna awoke with a searing headache. A horrible taste filled her mouth and her stomach rolled queasily when she sat up on the couch.
"Oh God." She said and pressed a hand to her head. "Fuck." She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She waited for her head to stop spinning before she slowly made her way to her feet. She groaned and waited until the world shifted back into place. Then she headed to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and got out a bottle of more alcohol. It had always helped her to cure alcohol-induced nausea with a little alcohol and some aspirin. She popped the top off of the bottle and walked to the medicine cabinet. She opened up a bottle and took two Advil and a sleeping pill. She knew it would dull the edge, real fast and maybe even get her drunk again. She didn't care. Being high and drunk was better than fully remembering and hurting. Hell, even the sickness was better than the emotional pain.
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About three weeks after she was raped, Julianna was, for once, sober. She was sitting out on her back porch, just staring into the pool. She had a glass of water in her hand and she was just thinking. Lately she had let Ron be closer. They were still growing apart emotionally and mentally, but she didn't shy away physically from him anymore. She had come to realize that after all those years of trusting him, there was no reason to think he was going to force himself on her. She knew he never would. She had stopped being afraid of him when she had realized that. But she had also come to realize that she no longer really loved him. She knew she once had, but when this had happened to her, this horrible thing had happened to her, she didn't really want him with her. It was that that made her realize she didn't really love him anymore. And she still didn't really want him to touch her sexually. For one thing, she had been intimate with him and she didn't want him to realize something was different. Secondly, she wanted to do something different. Her life as she knew it was ruined. She wanted a change. A huge change. She wasn't ready to quite let Ron go yet, but she wanted something different.
But the thing that scared her was that she wanted to be intimate with someone again. Not Ron, but someone. Someone she trusted. Sex had been a pleasant part of her and Ron's life. She had enjoyed it greatly. And she was sick of associating sex to her rape. She wanted to match it back up with pleasure and satisfaction, where it belonged. Her rape had been something dirty, something horrible. She still wasn't over it. Never would be. But she was tired of being untouched. She was tired of feeling sick and dirty and unbeautiful.
The only problem was that she didn't want an attachment. She wanted sex with somebody she trusted, but who wouldn't put pressure on her for more. Someone she trusted who would be satisfied to just have sex with her. And she knew just who that person was. Her last thought before she took a sip of her water was that she was now on a mission.
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George was sitting on the couch just flipping through the channels on the television when his phone rang. He muted the TV and reached for the phone and clicked it on.
"Hello?" He asked into the phone.
"Hey George." The female voice said on the other end.
"Hey Jules, what's up?" He asked and smiled. He hadn't seen or heard from her in over a month.
"Nothing much, just sitting. What're you doing?" She replied.
"Just flipping through the channels, trying to find something to watch. Nothing good is on."
"Yeah, I know. I checked a few minutes ago. I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out and be bored over here, with me." She said.
"Sure, I have nothing else better to do." He said.
"Oh, thanks!" She said sarcastically. He chuckled.
"Yeah. I'll be over. Bye."
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