The Prophecy by Desiree Deorto Page A

back, a look of surprise crossed his face. Spitting a small amount of blood from his mouth, he turned back toward me and got so close to my face that his nose touched mine. “That was a fucking mistake, bitch.”
    He slammed his mouth down onto mine, swallowing my screams. Taking both of my hands in his, he stretched them above my head and held them with one hand while his other hand reached down and fumbled with the clasp of my jeans. I thought my heart would pound out of my chest. Freeing my mouth from his, I started pleading with him to let me go, to stop.
    “What the fuck is this shit!” Came an outraged voice. I sobbed in relief as he stumbled off of me. I curled in on myself, and looked up into the eyes of my savior.
    “ You fucking slut! I knew you always wanted him!” Becca shrieked, rage shining through her glazed eyes.
    “ Wha — Becca! He attacked me!” I reached out to her, sobbing. I didn't understand.
    She looked from me to Jason. “Yeah right. You've always been jealous of me! You think I don't know that you want what I have?” Scoffing, she went to move away.
    “ Becca! Are you serious? I don't want anything of yours and I sure as hell don't want to be anything like you!”
    She spun around and my head whipped back at the force of her slap. “You're fucking dead, do you understand me? I will destroy you.” With that icy threat, Becca left with Jason, leaving me to sob alone in the woods.
    I shook myself from the memory as I came back to the present. “Star, what was the final break?” James asked again. I glanced over at him and tried to hold the tears at bay. I blinked rapidly and returned my gaze back to the ceiling.
    “ She thought I wanted what she had. We had a fight, and she vowed to destroy me.”
    “ You mean destroy you physically?”
    A bitter laugh escaped as I looked at James. “No, not physically. Socially. It's the only thing that mattered to her.”
    He stared down at his desk, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers as he contemplated my words. “Did it work?”
    “ What? Her destroying me?” I gestured around, bitterness coating my words. “I'm here, aren't I? What do you think the answer to that question is?”
    He leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. I felt a surge of guilt roll through me like a wave as he remained silent.
    I sat up and shifted in my seat, feeling uncomfortable within my own skin.
    “ I’m sorry.” I fluttered my hands, as if the action would clear my thoughts. It was useless. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
    “ Yes, you did. I understand that, to you, this,” He gestured around him, encompassing the whole town, “would be considered social suicide. Just like your perceived thoughts about our sessions. You’ve judged this town and its inhabitants based on preconceived notions, so you won’t give it a chance.”
    My pride rose up, demanding that I defend myself, deny his accusations. He just waved my words off and continued.
    “Star, I understand” That silenced me. “Believe it or not, I have traveled. I’ve been to big cities and I know how vastly different it is compared to a small town like this. The change would be difficult for anyone to adjust to. Add why you had to move here into the mix, and I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do.”
    “ You don’t?” A surprised frown crossed my face. I expected him to droll on and on about how great it was here, about the need for me to start fresh. Basically a repeat of what my parents have lectured to me about. I wasn’t expecting his acceptance.
    “ No, I don’t blame you. It’s perfectly understandable. But,” Here it is . “Regardless of how or why you came to be here, the truth of the matter is that you are here. Whether you enjoy it or not depends on you. The situation may suck, but no one has the ability to make your life here miserable except for yourself.”
    I let his words sink in, thinking back on how I reacted to the people that live here. How