Do you want to talk?

On the way home from the hospital, the taxi driver was pleasant. The car smelled of tobacco and vanilla deodoriser. He made small talk about his night so far and asked me about mine, obviously curious about my pickup location. I rested my head against my hand but immediately jerked my head upright because of the sharp pain the tender bruise on my temple caused when pressed.

"You'll have to direct me, I've only been taxi-driving a short while. The university student housing?"

"Yeah," I said. "Just turn right up here." I calmly thought about leading us into a car crash. The streets were dark, I could lead us down a dead end, maybe we'd crash into a light pole. These morbid thoughts flipped through my mind like slow-turning pages.

I paid the driver, got out of the cab and into my small apartment. I locked the doors, set my purse on the floor, stood in front of the full-length mirror and began undressing. I took great consideration in the removal of my clothing, how each layer revealed more and more of my skin, until I stood in front of the mirror, naked except for a pair of panties. I gazed at my reflection, noting the way the dim light cast small shadows beneath my breasts and defined the muscles on my stomach. I examined the scratches and carpet burns on my elbows and thought about my state of helplessness.

After I pulled on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, I rifled through my purse and pulled out the card the doctor had given me. I grabbed my phone and, with trembling fingers, dialed the number. The woman who answered took my name and phone number and said I'd be receiving a phone call soon.

I hung up and sat there waiting. I thought about what I would say to whomever called. I thought about telling my friends and how I would go about doing that. I thought about how I would tell my mother.

My phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello," the soft female voice came through. "May I please speak to Porscha?"

"This is her," I replied.

"Hi Porscha, this is Lisa. I'm a counselor from the Perth Rape and Crisis centre. Do you want to talk?"

"Yes," I replied timidly, my voice sounding weak and cracked. "Yes I do."