I woke up with a throbbing head and faulty memory. What just happened?
I quickly began to take in my surroundings and fill the empty slots in my mind.
I was laying on my side, and my ribcage and temples were radiating pain.
My arms were sloppily bound behind me with rope.
It was also cold and dark, so it was obviously still nighttime.
About an hour passed as I lay weak, semiconscious and cold. I drifted in and out of darkness, waking when the cold was too much to bear and I would shiver, only to be swallowed up again by a black cloud of pain and half-formed thoughts.
I heard heavy footsteps approaching me at a leisurely pace, the grass whispering dark secrets with every step.
The rustling under his feet subsided, and I assumed he had stopped next my shuddering form.
With a strong and clumsy hand, he turned me over and dragged me to the edge of a pond. He snickered softly as he sat down and hoisted me into his lap.
Being too weak and hurt to fight back, I let out a pitiful mew, not unlike a newborn kitten, and my captor laughed again.
It wasn’t a nice laugh.
“Don’t worry babe. As soon as I’m done I’ll chuck your pretty ass into that pond and we’ll be done here.”
I wanted to slap him across his ugly rapist face, but my arms had turned to lead. As his hands began to wander, I found myself suddenly transported to a memory of mine, back when I was 14. I had always tried to suppress it, but resistance was futile, and it washed over me with overwhelming force.
It was crisp and damp as I staggered down an alleyway, decorated with graffiti and gang symbols. My mom had ditched me at one of my friend’s houses before going out for the night, which would actually turn into absence of three days. We had snuck out and walked to another friend’s house, who was having a party. After my usual beer-pong routine they finally got me to try a heavier drug than weed: Coke. Before long, everybody there was as high as a Boeing 747, and I’d found myself a new friend. He was three years older and sexier than any of the guys in my grade. We hit it off quickly, and had been making out for a solid hour before he suggested we go take a drive to somewhere more private. I obliged and we started walking down the street to a public parking lot. We were about halfway down the alley when I felt him grab me by my shoulders and throw me down. I hit the wet concrete hard, too stunned to react. Within seconds he was on top of me, ripping through my clothes like tissue paper. I tried to scream, but half of me was so out of it I didn’t realize what was happening. The other half knew, but was petrified with fear. The next hour or so had been a haze of pain, fear, and soul-shattering anguish. I had stayed motionless in that alley long after he had left, sobbing quietly, head buzzing, even puking twice. The faint light of dawn began to sweep across the sky, and I finally got up to limp home. As I looked at myself in a dirty puddle, I vowed to never fall victim so easily again. I would never allow myself to get close enough to somebody. Nobody would ever break me like that again. I was going to be strong.
I gasped as I surfaced into reality again, and tears began to stream down my face. Just as I felt his hand go under my skirt, I let out a scream. It was a cry full of fury, devastation, helplessness and determination. He pushed me down and slapped me until my lip split and my ears began to ring, but I continued to scream. I began to regain the strength in my arms and legs, and I struggled. I bit, kicked, clawed, cursed and punched. I let loose everything that I was capable of, given the circumstances, and my attacker drew away briefly, cursing.
“You dumb slut! I should’ve just killed you in your sleep!” He snarled, leaning into my face.
I laughed darkly, “I would’ve liked to see you try, asshole.” I spit out a gob of blood, and it landed on his cheek. He gave a disgusted grunt, and punched me smack-dab in the middle of my face. Stars filled my vision, and I vaguely remembered that I was supposed to be fighting something, but was distracted by the pain and bright spots the punch had delivered.
I suddenly felt his weight vanish, and I heard voices. I was grabbed by the shoulders again, but much gentler this time, and dragged off to a soft patch of mud by the bank.
The voices returned, and it sounded like an argument, but I was mostly focused on the fact that the mud puddle was much warmer than the air around it, and my shivering had subsided a bit.
I heard the distinct sound of fist hitting flesh, and it registered that a fight was currently underway.
I tried to sit up, but a fresh trickle of blood left my nose, and I lay back down.
Somewhere through my hazy stupor I heard the snapping of bone, and a cry of pain. I listened as my attacker screamed in agony, and heard his heavy footsteps sprint in the opposite direction.
Just as I drifted off into a definite unconsciousness, I felt tender hands lift me out of the mud, and as the stars in my vision mixed with those of the sky above me, I felt safe for the first time, cradled in the arms of a stranger.
Divine Ultimatum 