Rubbing my stinging palms on my jeans, I grimaced before staggering further into the opening of the alley. My breathing was coming in short, ragged gasps, as I used the back of my hand to wipe away sweat from my forehead. As I brought my hand back down I noticed the smear of deep red that came with it, the metallic smell making me dizzy. The only light in the alley barely lit its area, let alone where I was pressing my back against the brick building. My trembling hands tried to zip up my hoodie as it started to drizzle, making it harder to hear if he was still chasing me.
I gritted my teeth and limped further into the dark alley, sliding down the wall behind the dumpster, shadows covering my shaking figure even more. Making myself move my hands that were clutching my thigh, I inspected where he had whipped the broken beer bottle at me. My jeans were ripped open, and soaked from where the shallow gash was steadily leaking. Skinning my palms from my many trips and falls seemed like nothing now, as I put my hands back over it and applied as much pressure as I could.
A broken mirror that barely held itself together across the alley showed my blond hair colored darker on the front from where I hit my head off the bar stool. My mind was already feeling the shock I was trying to prevent from my body, as I struggled to keep my breathing even. The metal door I passed earlier in the alley slammed open, and two men lit cigarettes, laughing to themselves. I should have known that I was between two more bars, the downtown area was popular at this time of night, and I tried to make myself shrink back further.
One of the men was going on about how he was going to take the tipsy brunette home and what he was planning to do with her, while the other remained silent, shaking his head at his companion. British accents? Their back's were to me, as I peeked under the dumpster, but I could tell they were young, as they stood around enjoying their shared addiction. The drunken lady's man, as it seemed, threw his unfinished cigarette into a puddle that was starting to form a few feet from me before making his way back inside to find his brunette catch. The quiet one stood there for a while after his friend left, casually leaning against the building, staring at the sky.
I carefully tried to shift myself so I could stretch my injured leg out, more blood pooling into the gravel next to me. I propped my lower body up on my good leg, slowly extending the wound straight out. My black boots slipped trying to support my weight and my shoulders loudly fell against the dumpster. I held my breath as I heard his feel shuffling through the puddles and rocks. Come on, C, stay focused.
"Whose there?" The Brit called in my direction and I tried to keep quiet. Maybe he will assume it was an animal and leave me be to run further from my insane ex-boyfriend. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back in frustration. Just what I needed, another drunk to deal with in the middle of the night. My father was in the military, I should know some decent self defense skills, but my mind drew a blank as I heard him slowly walking closer. I fumbled for my pocket knife and held it in front of me, waiting for him to appear around the dumpster, see the weak mess that I am, and immediately take the opportunity he was looking for all night in the bar.
His body slowly came into view, and I tried to look intimidating as I held up my minuscule weapon in defense. I saw his jacket first, the collar high around his neck, light brown hair styled high off his forehead, wide blue eyes clearly afraid of the unknown. He saw my boots first, his eyes widening as they traveled up my legs, to see one of my hands still pushing against my bleeding leg, the other shakily wielding a small pocket knife. I had forgotten about my head wound until a small trickle of blood slid past my eye as he finally saw my face, and he came into view more.
For a few moments he just stood there, taking in the sight in front of him, from my blazing-and supposed to be threatening- stare, to the blood that was on the ground next to me. He looked tall-but then again who wouldn't from my position-and he reached out for my hand, squatting in front of me. I pulled my legs away, pain lighting up my thigh and I winced, a tear falling to my shirt with the stray drop of blood from my head. His eyes looked pained and he pulled out his cell phone and started dialing the three numbers.
"No!" I kicked his cell phone from his hand and my threatening arm fell with exhaustion.
"You need an ambulance, miss." He pressed, not even bothering to look where his phone had fallen across the alley. I shook my head and grabbed the metal dumpster, trying to pull myself to my unsteady feet.
"You can't! He-he will kill me. I'll just run, you don't have to do anything." I tried to pull strength in my voice but it faltered when my vision started getting blurry around the edges, and the world started tilting.
"He? He who? I'll help you, it will be fine." He stepped closer and put one hand on my shoulder to steady me as I fell heavily against him. He didn't even falter as he pulled my arm around his shoulders and stooped to pick me up completely, as I dropped the knife, it skittering into the nearby puddle. His arm hooked under my knees, and I thought about fighting against the stranger who was now carrying me quickly through a parking lot with ease. I tried to bring my weak hand up to hit him, or even kick him, but my strength failed me and I was dizzy again.
My blood's potency carried into the air and mixed with his sweet cologne, and I tried to push him away once again. He acted like I wasn't even there as he put me in the passenger's seat of his car, and buckled me in. I couldn't even bring myself to be angry, grateful that he carried me further away from the possibility of being found.
"I'm gonna get blood on your seat..." I mumbled.
"What's your name?" He quipped as he expertly turned and sped through the quiet streets to a side of town I've never been before. Everything was getting more blurred around me and my head lolled against the headrest.
"I don't know you, I'll kick your ass if I survive this..." I whimpered as everything disoriented itself, and I mumbled nonsense until he was unbuckling me and carrying me up concrete steps. I didn't have the energy to keep my eyes open anymore, but I felt the air conditioning and I sighed quietly. At least he provided nice hospitality before he raped and butchered me. He set me down somewhere soft, and started pulling my boots off. My whimpers grew into tears as I cried for what was to come, and that I could do nothing to stop it. My pants were off next, and my hoodie, making the air conditioning feel way too cold now.
The reality of my situation was becoming clearer as my muddled thoughts grew more foggy, fear making me clutch at empty air. I heard him leaving and reentering the room quickly I felt uncomfortable pulling at the wound at my leg. Suddenly, a searing pain exploded on my thigh where the pulling was coming from and my eyes flew open to stare at the ceiling. I remembered my ear splitting scream, but just as the pain exploded again on my head, my tears pulled my eyelids closed again and I fainted, the heat of the pain chasing me through my conscious.
