When you pushed me onto the bed, your hands roaming, reaching a goal, breath twisted with alcohol, shivered in pain, stood up, tried to breathe, tried to leave, kissed my innocence and left me feeling at blame. Scared in the school hallways, rumours ran towards me and away from you, police questioned me and watched you walk to class while I walked into an interview. “Did you say no?” Did I? No. You can’t talk when you can’t breathe.