Taking the Guilt Away Rachel Levy

I was taking shots. Too many shots. Shots that I didn't even know what they had circulating in that little glass. All I knew was that I wanted to cleanse myself of the guilt. The guilt of helping a guy cheat on another girl. Sure, I didn't know while it was happening, but that was besides the point. The point was some girl was being told she wasn't good enough.

So I turned to the only plausible therapist at the time, Mr. Jack Morgan. I couldn't go to my parents and I didn't want to seem vulnerable to all my new classmates I would need to spend the next four years with.

But the cops came and shut down the drinking for the night.

The guys I was with hoisted up my tiny, just out of high school body, to try and get me over the fence to the neighbors yard. At that point, I was too far gone to steady myself at the top so they had to pull me back down in fear of me falling and breaking some bones and explaining to my new coach what had happened to me.

After the cops left the boys I went with brought me back to their car to bring me to campus. I got in the car but to be honest, I don't remember the ride.

I stumbled out of the car as we got back to campus. The boys went to walk me to my dorm but then it happened. The two upper class-men girls from the lacrosse team came to find me. They told the boys to leave me alone even though they were just helping.

They started telling me not to have sex that night because they heard about the night before. I told them I just wanted sleep but they just kept repeating to me not to have sex. I said okay and I just wanted sleep. They twirled my braids then ran off to their car. I tried to tell them to wait for me because I couldn't stand and couldn't find my way back. But they just sped off in their car yelling "no sex."

I tried to make my way back but I couldn't even tell what dorm was mine. I tried to take one step forward but I lost my footing and felt gravity pulling me to wet grass below. Until I felt them, Maliks soft, warm hands under one arm and Blake's cold and calloused hands on the other arm. "We got you," I hear one say. They carried me back to my dorm where all my other friends were.

And in the moment they laid me down, I felt even worse than when I left. Would it stop me from drinking? No but I learned my second lesson in college and classes haven't yet begun.


Created with images by artursfoto - "coctail alcoholic ice" • Jirka Matousek - "Union College Party" • Unsplash - "squad car police lights" • seriousbri - "Sunset fence" • FotoSleuth - "Toyota Yaris" • LoggaWiggler - "park parking crowded" • emdot - "girl talk" • Denis Defreyne - "Girl" • Matt Nazario-Miller - "Junior Year Dorm Décor"

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