2 distressed - pjm

Trigger Warning: ****, readers who aren't comfortable with such topics can skip the chapter.

Mia

Meaning: Mine, bitter (Hebrew), beloved (Scandanavian)

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Mia made a run to the mall in the city centre, her wavy black hair dancing over her pale shoulders, her loose black jeans reached her ankles and the white off-shoulder blouse was almost identical to her skin, she held a leather jacket between her fingers and softly hummed a random tune. Mia was beautiful, a sea of freckles spread across her slightly big nose and cheeks, not only was she beautiful, but her presence was enchanting, she carried herself with grace and confidence, which made her a woman to never go unnoticed.

She made her way to a café and sat down next to the windows after ordering her drink, Mia observed the people as they walked by, busy with their own lives. The vibrating of the device she was given by the clerk indicated that her iced mocha was ready, she rose to her feet and skipped to the counter. Her eyes twinkled as her drink was handed to her, she was about to make her way back to her seat, as an all too familiar whistle brought a halt to her steps and her blood ran cold.

Time stopped when her eyes landed on the owner of the sound, she instinctively covered her mouth and tried to shrink her presence out of existence, afraid of releasing the slightest sound that could bring his attention to her. Mia could identify him anywhere, even though it took her seven long years to bury what happened that night, he looked exactly the same. His straight brown hair was brushed to the side, not missing a single strand. A plain white shirt hugged his muscular chest and he wore shorts that reached his hairy knees. His muscular arms were resting on the counter and his fingers were long yet huge. A chilling metallic ring adorned his middle finger as he produced a slow, steady tapping sound that rang ominously in her head.

Seeing him standing in front of her, the memories that she struggled to bury, surfaced. The flashbacks of that Friday night hit her like a speeding truck, her breath grew laboured as she remembered every inch of her body being touched by his sweaty hands, feeling the coldness of the metal ring around her neck and all over her body, the spine-chilling whistling sound he made when he pushed her into the bathroom corner, observing her with his beasty eyes.

Mia pleaded her legs to move, to run away but they wouldn't respond, her legs were frozen in place as she recalled her worst nightmare. The coffee shop started to spin and she felt darkness invade her vision. Her grip on her drink loosened, spilling all its contents.

"What the hell!?" the man hissed, glaring at her with furious eyes. Her drink spilt on his shirt.

He snatched a napkin from the counter, trying to wipe the newly added brown stain on his previously clean, white shirt. Mia could feel his piercing gaze on her, but she refused to lock eyes with him, afraid that he'll recognize her and hurt her again. His angry complaints next to her fell on deaf ears, as she tried to cover her ears with her shaky hands desperately wanting to block his voice out, her back drenched in cold sweat and her stomach rolled, threatening to eject her breakfast.

"I'm talking to you!" he snapped as he grabbed her shoulders with his huge hands. Mia shrieked in horror and recoiled from his touch as felt the same rough and sweaty claws on her skin. Her heart hammered against her chest threatening to explode. The adrenaline flooded her system, it pumped and beat like it's trying to escape. Alarm bells rang in her head as her shaking intensified. She needed to get out and out she went. She shoved him away and ran as fast as her legs could take her. She didn't know where she was running to, the distance was all that mattered. Mia wasn't stopping for anything. She kept looking over her shoulder, petrified of him following her, her legs screamed from pain but she couldn't stop, no she wouldn't until she reached the security of her small apartment.

Still trembling, Mia stumbled to her room and hastily locked the door behind her. Suddenly her legs gave out as the adrenaline finally left her body. She hugged her shaky legs, pulling them as close as possible to her still pounding heart. Rocking back and forth she tried to calm herself down.

The walls she built for almost a decade around her, crumbled. Mia bit her tongue trying to suppress the pain. Shove all the memories back into the box and bury it in the darkest pit… she reaped those words like a mantra but as soon as the first set of tears fell, the flood gates opened, and the tears raced down her cheeks.

Her fragile body shook as a loud wail tore through her body, echoing through her empty apartment. Her lungs screamed for oxygen, begging her to breathe, but she was unable to control herself. Her raw cries were full of pain conveying that her decade-old wound still hadn't healed and was still tender. She broke down entirely, clasping onto her shirt desperately. Mia made no effort to wipe her tears away, her sobs silenced only to breathe. She was filled with anger, shame, and regret of not punching him in the face right there and then.

She played the moment of facing her rapist more than her tired brain could count, but she never expected it to turn this way. Mia's furious screams turned to sobs again and eventually into soft sniffles as she managed to finally calm herself down. She glanced at the full-length mirror, decorating the corner of her room, tear-rimmed, bloodshot eyes stared back at her, her face flushed and her hair was dishevelled from gripping it too tight. Her bottom lip trembled as her swollen eyes welcomed another wave of tears, allowing them to flow without pause.

Mia closed her eyes, as her mind played the events of that night in her head again and again like a broken record. From how she woke up the next day naked, her clothes torn and sweaty to how she limped to the police reporting the happenings, trying to ignore the judging glances that were thrown at her. She remembered feeling cold, terrified but most of all dirty.

No one believed her, she was called a liar, an attention seeker and even a whore for using her body to get attention. They doubted that the president of the student council would be behind her bruises and mental scars and lastly the police officers that promised her justice suddenly dropped the case without further notice.

Mia was an orphan, which made the situation worse, she had no one to support her, fight for her rights and certainly no one to pick her shattered self up. After the case was dropped, her college life turned to hell, she was bullied by everyone.

Mia moved to another city, applied for online courses and tackled several part-time jobs in order to pay for her tuition fees and make ends meet. In a matter of seven years, she slowly built up her own haven, graduated and found a stable job. Many therapy sessions later, was she able to mingle with the public, she still feared men and couldn't be near one, but she managed to go on with her daily life.

A week passed, Mia only moved from under her secure covers to take care of her daily needs. The following night the door to her apartment clicked open. A slender man slipped into the apartment, the tired shuffling of his steps echoed through the apartment, but they weren't loud enough to wake Mia up. He walked to her bedroom door and gripped the doorknob, twisting it. He took off his jacket and slipped under the warm covers and wrapped his arms around her waist, Mia jolted up from her slumber, alarmed by the unfamiliar warmth. She charged at him without a second thought, gripping his hair and pulling it with all her strength.

She heard him shouting something at her, but her brain was too alarmed to register his words. He got on top of her and pinned her arms to her sides, her blood ran cold as she felt the familiar coldness of his ring on her skin. She struggled under his grip, her heart hammering against her chest in fear as she shut her eyes screaming.

"Mia, it's me!" a voice boomed through her ears.

She opened her eyes meeting the small eyes of her husband. His brown hair was a mess from being pulled, his normally clean shaved face was replaced with a stubble.

That's when she noticed it, Jimin had a smaller build than that guy, his soft features were totally different from her abuser, almost feminine. Maybe that was the reason why she was comfortable around him in the first place. His small hands released her wrists as they moved up to her cheeks, wiping the falling tears, his short, chubby fingers ran through her hair, putting the hair strands back in place.

Jimin's soft smile sent a wave of relaxation through her as her teary eyes met his.

"Jimin" a whimper escaped her dry lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Jimin rested his arms over her, careful not to suffocate her under his weight yet close enough to comfort her.

"I know that I've been gone for a while, but I can't believe that you forgot my touch so quickly." He teased with a glint of disappointment in his eyes. Mia didn't respond, she just breathed in his cologne, trying to relax.

Jimin gazed at her questionably but she stubbornly shook her head with a sad smile. "Let's just stay like this for now." He nodded in understanding and plopped next to her, pulling her into his embrace dotingly. "No pressure, I'll wait", although clearly unconvinced Jimin chose to not probe further and rested his cheek on her shoulder. His arms tightened around her petite frame as he caressed and stroked her back soothingly.

Mia was grateful for her husband, she met him as her therapist, which was uncomfortable at first, but when she noticed that he was the complete opposite of her abuser, she started feeling comfortable around him. She believed that he was a gift sent to her from her late parents.

Feeling his warm touch for the first time in weeks, her dreams were filled with comforting nothingness.

[Edited: 17/10/2019]