**Chapter 7: The Aftermath**

The days that followed the assault were a blur for Maya. She went through the motions, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy, but everything felt off. The police had taken her statement, and she had given them a description of her attacker, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was living in a nightmare. As she walked through her daily routine, Maya couldn't help but notice the little things that now made her feel uncomfortable. The way the sunlight streamed through the windows, the sound of birds chirping outside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee - everything seemed different now. Maya's body ached in places she never knew could hurt. She felt like she was walking around with a constant bruise, one that she couldn't see but could feel deep within her bones. She tried to push through the pain, to pretend that it wasn't there, but it was no use. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Alex's face. His smile, his eyes, his hands on her skin. She couldn't erase the memories, no matter how hard she tried. They haunted her, popping up in the most unexpected moments. Maya began to withdraw from her friends and family, unable to bear the thought of talking to them about what had happened. She felt ashamed, like she was somehow to blame for Alex's actions. She stopped going to work, unable to face her colleagues and their pitying glances. As the days turned into weeks, Maya's apartment became a prison. She stopped leaving, stopped socializing, stopped living. She felt like she was drowning in her own grief, unable to find a lifeline to cling to. One day, as she was wandering aimlessly around her apartment, Maya caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was shocked by what she saw. Her eyes were sunken, her skin pale, and her hair dull. She looked like a shadow of her former self. Maya realized that she needed help. She couldn't do this alone. She picked up the phone and dialed a number, her heart pounding in her chest. It was a number for a rape crisis center, one that she had found online. As she waited for someone to answer, Maya felt a sense of trepidation. She had never talked to anyone about what had happened, not even her closest friends. But something about the moment felt different. Maybe it was the desperation in her voice, or maybe it was the kindness of the person who answered the phone. "Hello, my name is Maya," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need help." The voice on the other end of the line was warm and gentle. "You're not alone, Maya. We're here for you. What happened?" Maya took a deep breath, and let it all out. She told the stranger on the phone about Alex, about the break-in, about the assault. She told her about the pain, the shame, and the fear. As she spoke, Maya felt a weight lift off her shoulders. It was a small step, but it was a start. She knew that she had a long way to go, but for the first time since the assault, she felt like she wasn't alone.