TRIGGER WARNING: IMPLIED RAPE, KIDNAPPING, BLOOD.
If these subjects are too much for you as a reader to handle, please skip to the next chapter.
February 19, 1991.
??? pm.
I don't know what was in that drink.
I'd say a few minutes after I took that sip, reality started to seemingly shift and distort.
My body….
My body….
My body felt tingly.
I was moving….
Then I stopped.
I thought I heard Lucinda, maybe it was someone else.
The girly voice turned to a deep masculine one.
I was not fully aware of my surroundings, every step I took felt like a dream.
A dream I couldn't wake from.
Wait… my body was moving again.
I was losing control.
February 19, 1991.
??? am.
I seemed to be back in reality.
My eyes got used to the darkness of the room.
Tears were streaming down my face, and I saw bruises down my legs and on my arms. My hands were handcuffed to the headboard of the bed I was lying down on.
Strangely, the room felt familiar.
I struggled.
My throat felt sore, but I tried my hardest to scream out for help.
The door left to me opened and my attacker came through.
He looked to be my age, but way taller and creepier looking, like a person you wouldn’t trust around your kids.
“Aww…it wore off.”
He walked closer to me, loosening his belt and taking off his shirt.
“Oh well. It’ll be more fun to actually hear you this time…huh baby?” He said, licking his lips. I thought about what he said and felt…wetness between my legs. My lace panties were completely ripped and thrown off to the side.
I pray to GOD the birth control I’ve been taking for shoots at the studio is still in effect.
I had been drugged and taken advantage of, and this fucker was going in for a second round. I had to figure out a way to escape, and fast.
I noticed my heels were still on.
As my attacker got closer to me and crawled towards me, I kicked him in the face, aiming the stiletto heel into his eye.
He screamed in pure agony and pain as blood dripped down his face.
He fell over the side of the bed, screaming and grabbing his face.
Now was my chance to escape.
I looked around for a way to get out of the handcuffs, my time was limited.
Luckily the dumb bastard had one of the handcuffs over a pole in the headboard that I could slide them over. After I loosened my left hand, I unhooked my right and managed to stumble out of the bed.
I think the drugs were still in my system, because I felt very woozy. It seemed as if the small room was undulating, moving like water.
I started to stumble out into the hallway, making my escape, my attacker still screaming next to me.
“YOU….BITCH!!!” I heard thundering behind me.
I almost made it to the front door, before my attacker caught me, pinning me to the wall next to the door.
I felt around and felt a glass vase filled with flowers.
I SMASHED it over his head.
He fell over, knocked out. I fumbled with the door before letting myself out.
When I looked around in the hallway, I was in shock. In tears almost.
I was back in one of MY college’s dormitories.
My attacker was one of my fellow students.
I may not have been in a stable position to move, but I took off running as fast as I could. My heels clacked down the hallway as they came off of my feet. I didn’t care at that point, the only safe place I had was my own dorm.
And even then….
I wasn’t too sure that was safe either.
The hallway seemed to twist and turn, as if it was alive.
I heard a few familiar voices calling out to me as I moved, me not stopping for a chat.
I ended up getting to my dorm, taking a LONG shower and crying myself to sleep that night.
February 24, 1991.
3:45 pm.
After the night I had, I didn't show up to the studio, or any of my classes for a few days. Lucinda came to check on me, though.
During my absence, I got a check up from the local doctor.
Luckily I wasn’t pregnant, and I didnt have any STDs. That’s the last thing I needed at this point.
I eventually came to realize that my attacker was one of Tim’s best friends, after seeing one of them hanging around him with a nasty eye injury.
I immediately tried to tell the school that there was a rapist on their campus, but considering my piss poor reputation…they put the blame on me.
“It’s terrible what happened to you, but maybe wear something less skimpy so this doesn't happen again.” The school counselor said to me. Nothing was done about it. I felt helpless.
Everyday I came back to that campus felt like a walk through hell itself.
But I wanted to keep going. To hopefully escape this school and make my parents happy for once.
Days went by.
Until.
The inevitable happened.
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