Finding Kylie by Kimberly McKay

crazy.
                  She kept going over it in her mind.  How could I have handled it differently?  If I had slowed down sooner maybe it wouldn’t have happened.  If only I hadn’t agreed to walk to the lawn chairs … If only I hadn’t initiated more kisses, If only ...
                  As her mind trailed off, she found it hard to ignore the truth.  It was my fault. 
                  The finality of it resounded through her mind.  She left herself wide open for everything that happened; putting herself in a situation she had no control over. The harsh truth was something she couldn’t wrap her mind around.
                  I can’t even think or say that word ... I was attacked.  C'mon Kylie. It’s not going to make it any better to make light of it ... it was ... what it was – rape.
                  John Mikale held her down on the overstuffed patio lounger, begging her as if his life depended on it.  His voice held so much desperation that she was made to feel at fault for putting him in that position, and part of her still felt bad for hating him because of his angelic smile while he proceeded to rape her.
                  “Please Kylie, please,” he pleaded with her, as if she held all the power. 
                  That’s a laugh, she sarcastically thought.  Kylie responded in the only logical manner she knew how.  She thought maybe if she tried to reason with him, he’d stop.
                  “John, if I don’t do this , I lose you.  If I do , I lose myself ... what kind of choice is that for me to make?  Why?”
                  She began struggling to get free.  “Why are you doing this?”  She demanded his attention.  “Stop.  Don’t do this!  Please don’t do this!”
                  In an instant, John transformed into someone she didn’t recognize, who continued to act on his impulses, as if she wasn’t even there.  She was no longer a person with feelings.  She was just an object for his release.  He pulled her pants down far enough that they wouldn’t tear, but would still give him the access he needed.  He held her down, took her virginity … even worse, he took her spirit.  Kylie was broken on so many different layers that she felt beyond fixing.
                  Afterwards, he helped her up and walked her to his car.  Thankfully, she would get home after her parents had gone to sleep. 
                  At least he was courteous enough to drive me home , she thought furiously. 
                  Neither spoke on the way to her house.  When he pulled up to her driveway, he actually said, “Thanks for tonight, Kylie.” 
                  It made her want to throw up.  He’s thankful as if I’d given him something?  
                  She sat in disbelief, doubting herself.   Maybe it wasn’t what I thought.  Maybe I dreamt this all up. She stopped herself, Wait a minute... how could he have me questioning what happened?  I said NO, how is this right? 
                  She threw the car door open, anxious to get away from him and his gratitude as fast as possible.  There was no way she was going to offer a polite response or say goodnight. 
                  Kylie leapt from the car and ran inside, thankful to find the lights were out.  She didn’t want to explain anything to her parents, in case they woke up and saw her in the hallway.  She quietly tiptoed to her bathroom, turned the water on as hot as possible, and scrubbed the scent of magnolias and cologne from her skin.
                  The morning after, Kylie went straight into denial mode repeating her newfound mantra.
                  It didn’t happen.  It didn’t happen.  It didn’t happen.
                  The harder she focused on those words, the more she