Perdition

Past Haunts and Present Problems

Without warning, he threw me to the ground. I landed face first into the concrete and gasped as pain like I'd never felt before shot through my face. I tried to get up, holding my hand to my nose that was gushing blood, but the big guy shoved me back down and ripped my hips towards him.

I couldn't see what he was doing and screamed in horror as he tore my jeans off, and then proceeded to rip my underwear, leaving me fully exposed from the waist down. I continued to sob; not being able to do anything as I watched large drops of blood hit the pavement from my broken nose.

"You fucked up her pretty face!" one yelled, sounding madder that my looks had been tainted than anything else.

Nothing more was said. I froze as I heard a zipper come undone, and cried. I tried to fight and get away, but my hand slipped in my own blood.

"Hold her down!"

I screamed and writhed as two pairs of hands held my arms and legs in place on that pavement. I begged, threatened and screamed at them that they didn't have to do this – that this wasn't worth going to prison over.

Now on my back, I was horrified to find one of them had his privates fully exposed and ready to assault me. I screamed louder this time, but the bigger guy just covered my mouth. Eyes wide, and delirious, my attention focused on the tiger tattooed on his wrist.

He must have thought I was going to try something, because he sneered, "Fuckin' bite me girl and we'll cut your head off and toss it in the bay."

I whimpered, but kept as quiet as I could. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drift away, trying to pretend this wasn't happening to me.

Why didn't I listen to Dad when he told me to get pepper spray or carry a weapon? He warned me about people like these, that men and women alike could do bad things to a girl who was alone. Why didn't I listen?

One after the other, they took me; taking away a piece of my dignity each time they assaulted me. I tried to pretend I wasn't there, but the pain was horrible. I puked the second time, making the guy that was holding my mouth shut move away quickly.

He kicked me in the ribs, making me cry out.

"Dirty slut!"

When they were done, I curled myself into a ball, shaking with silent sobs. It hurt everywhere. There was no part of me they hadn't touched, or injured, or degraded.

When I thought it was finally over and prayed they would just leave, I failed to realize they had no intention of letting me leave alive. The blond man pulled me by my legs, spreading me out before the guy with the crooked teeth pulled out a switchblade knife.

And when he stabbed me in my abdomen, I saw white. I felt the blade enter me and gasped when he ripped it out, only to stab me again, and again, and again.

I felt blood in my throat and coughed it up as they just laughed and left.

I thought I would die. I knew I was dying.

But my last thoughts were with my family.

My heartbroken family.

*******

I gasped, waking up and put a hand to my chest.

I hadn't dreamt about that night for a year. I had put it behind me, through therapy and medication – lots of medication.

Memories from before I passed out came flooding back and my senses were on high alert as I looked around, frantically trying to find if that crazy bitch was still around.