Chapter 14- Julia

                                    

                                          
Norman seemed bothered by something throughout the rest of the movie. I'm not sure what it was, but it was enough for me not to be able to pay attention.
	"Is everything okay?" I couldn't take it anymore. I had to ask. Norman looked at me when I said it. His eyes ever so slightly widening.
	"What do you mean?" He seemed genuinely confused. His head tilted and his brows furrowed.
	I fixed my position, turning toward him a bit more. I shrugged. "I don't know. You seem bothered. You have ever since the conversation from earlier."
	Norman's brows lifted. "Oh. It's nothing." He gestured at the TV. "I just don't get how so many people are being killed all within 1 day, and no one has either caught the guy, or escaped him. He can't be that great!"
	I laughed at his comment. There's no way that he was thinking that hard about a low budget slasher movie. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "And how would you know? Have you ever been hunted by a masked man?" I put a special emphasis on the words masked and man to make it sound funnier, since I was telling him earlier how when I was a teenager I was obsessed with masked men.
	Norman seemed amused by my comment. He put his finger up in the air and put on a fake nerd voice. "Actually, statistically speaking, there is a high percentage that out of all 25 people he hunts down, at least 12 of them will either injure or escape him. Mathematically speaking, that is." All his S sounds were TH sounds.
	I laughed, bending forward as I did. When I was done laughing, I looked back at Norman. "You are way too good at that!"
	He shrugged. "I had a lot of nerds in my childhood neighborhood." He looked back at the TV with disinterest. I picked up the remote. "How about we do something else. This is boring."
	Norman looked at me, far more interested now. "Like what?"
	I turned off the TV and shrugged. "I don't know. How about we play a drinking game?"
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	The two of us ended up playing a drinking version of blackjack. Whoever lost, had to take a shot of vodka. I just so happened to have some. I usually used it when I was hanging out with friends, but I hadn't drunk any since I moved in.
	Currently, I was the one drinking the most. It surprised me that Norman was so good at this game. He didn't seem like the gambling type.
	Norman smiled at me. "Hit me." I slid a card his way, and then gave myself one. I sighed heavily, not even waiting to see his cards, as I took a shot. I put my three 8's on the table. I was absolutely horrible at this.
	Before I knew it, I felt really dizzy. I didn't realize I drank this much. When I looked at Norman, his face was twisting in ways that weren't natural. Norman stood up and walked over to me. He spoke to me. I could tell he was saying my name, but his voice was distant. I didn't understand what was happening. This isn't what usually happens when I drink. I don't pass out.
	Norman crouched next to me. He was telling me something. I couldn't understand him. And then I was out.
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	When I was younger, I remember watching my dad drink. I always told myself that I would never, ever drink that heavily. But as I became an adult, it became normal. I would go out with my friends, go to a bar, and I would get as drunk as possible to forget about my worries.
	It was three years ago. On my 21st birthday, my best friend, Angie, and our other friend, Olivia, had brought me to a bar. They were only a year older than me but had a lot more experience drinking.
	"Come on! It's not that scary, Julia. Just talk to someone! They won't kill you." Angie said that as she walked away with Olivia. They were meeting up with their boyfriends, leaving the single one to find her own.
	I looked forward at my drink. I swished it around, not knowing what to do now. Do I talk to someone? Do I wait for someone to come to me?
	As if the thought summoned him, a man sat right next to me. "Hey. My name's Rhett. What's your name?"
	I looked at him like he was insane. I wasn't giving a random stranger my name! Much less this Rhett guy! He looked creepy as fuck and was giving off really weird vibes.
	He chuckled. "I get it. A pretty lady like you must get interested creeps all day long, huh? Don't worry. I'm not one of them." He pointed over his shoulder at a group of guys. "You see my buddies over there? They wanted me to come over and talk to someone. They got sick of my single ass."
	I smiled. "My friends are doing the exact same." I pointed over at Angie and Olivia.
	Rhett chuckled. "How about we just talk. That way we satisfy both my friends, and yours."
	I nodded. "How about it?"
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	Rhett must've slipped something in my drink. Because that was the first time that I had ever had sex. And I didn't want it. I don't even know if most people would call it sex. I think the correct term for it would be rape. I never wanted to be the person to call rape, though. Even if it were true.
	Rhett brought me back to his home. Angie and Olivia saw me leaving with him, so they probably assumed that I wanted it. I didn't. He laid me on his bed and had his way with me. I was too out of it to fight back. But I could experience every second of it. Every second of him stripping me. Every second of him touching me. And every second that he was inside of me.
	Rhett was the very first man to ever touch me like that. And in that moment, I wanted him to be the last. I never told anybody about what Rhett had done to me. Eventually, I had fallen asleep, and Rhett left me outside on his patio. I left before I could see him again. And I never did see him again.
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	Ever since that day, I vowed never to let myself get roofied again. I was doing so good. I never looked away from my drink. I never did anything that would allow someone to slip something in my drink. Not even this time. So, what happened? Norman wouldn't have done that to me, would he?