"We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love." (Robert Fulghum)
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Harlyn fell asleep almost as soon as I let her go. I covered her with the blanket, but I couldn't bring myself to clean her face, because I felt so helpless, that it seemed a senseless gesture to wake her up just to wash her. I preferred not to disturb her sleep. I suspect the trauma was enough for her to quickly find herself in the realm of dreams, where she can imagine unicorns and princesses, although I doubt she won't remember anything that just happened to her. Such an experience is not easily forgotten, and the chances are probably even lower the less you are used to such situations, with Harlyn living in her own fluff ball even in boarding school. Not all my colleagues have as many clothes as she does, or as much pocket money. If she wanted to, she could rent an apartment, in luxury conditions, without having to share a room with two other girls, but she preferred to have as much contact with her high school friends as possible.
I stand up carefully, taking another look at the blonde whose hair is disheveled on the pillow, and the portions under the eyes, where the bitter tears have barely dried, are circled. Her face is frowned and her eyelids flutter from time to time, a sign that she is not having very pleasant dreams. Her make-up is ruined because tears have spread it all over her face, but when I handed her a wet tissue she managed to remove only about half of it. I also noticed that her forearms are full of bruises, where, I imagine, the bearded man squeezed her. I can't imagine the trauma she went through and is still going through. She is so fragile... even compared to me. No matter how many blows we've endured due to Jia, Harlyn's situation is far more complex and will certainly have much graver consequences.
I only remember being in the boys' room when Zayden comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but jeans, offering a sight I can't take in because of the upset and anxiety caused by Harlyn's antics. He smiles coldly, his sad version of the all-knowing smirk, probably. I think I'm a wreck right now, just like my friend, because that's how I feel. My hair is in all directions, but I don't even try to style it, and I don't even want to think about make-up, but it's certain that it hasn't quite reached the stage of my friend's make-up. My clothes are mussed because Harlyn got a tight grip on them, but I don't mind because all I can think of is how someone could do that to a girl. The condition in which we will return the rented clothes is a concert for tomorrow. I didn't doubt the existence of soulless people, and there are plenty of cases of rape, but there was no way I would have imagined that Harlyn could go through something like this. I wish I could have been in her place, just so I wouldn't have to see her in this depressing state, although I probably wouldn't want to be in her shoes either. She will probably be scarred for life, and that worries me. What will happen to her?
"Aren't you going to change too?" Zayden whispers, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.
I nod absently, looking down at my toes. I could use a cold shower to make me forget what just happened, because usually in the shower I feel like I'm in another dimension, a universe where worries are buried deep and stress doesn't exist. Zayden turns away, at which point I forget Harlyn and her misery for a second and focus on the small tattoo between his shoulder blades, an equilateral triangle, the top angle highlighted. He puts his shirt on, so I don't get to analyze it better and try to decipher the meaning of the drawing, simple as it is. I blink often in an attempt to chase away the sleep but end up yawning and wanting to go to bed as soon as possible, even though I'm worried about Harlyn. It was indeed an eventful night, but in the worst possible way. I knew the possibility of the unexpected happening was high, but never in a thousand years would I have thought that I would watch someone close to me being mistreated in such a manner. No one deserves to experience such a disturbance, to have such a deep soul wound opened, and especially at such a young age, when you are just learning to take care of yourself and just starting your adult life. No one is actually prepared for such an experience.
