Poor Sandy

Author's Note: This is a bit of a personal relief for me, and as a way to maybe bring rape to the attention of readers out there and what it is really like. That and the author did not go too deeply into Sandy's "infidelity" into great detail-it is understood that she was just a loose bitch. I didn't think this was particularly fair.

Warnings: Rape, read at your own risk. Not combed for errors.

They were supposed to be nothing more than friends, but as she felt his muscled body pressed against her she realized he was anything but. In a desperate attempt to free herself from his grip she kneed him in the groin, but he didn't even keel over-she missed and instead struck his thigh. "Stop fighting me, you know you want this."

Sandy shivered, and nearly cried, when she heard the words whispered into her ear. She wanted to scream for help, scream for him to get off her, but she knew it was a fruitless effort. A night out with a friend had turned into a hell. She felt his kisses on her neck and chest, his hands forcing their way up her skirt and tearing the fabric.

She couldn't care less about the fabric, but she wanted him to stop. She would have given anything for him to stop! He eased her down onto his bed, the bulge in his pants rubbed against her and chaffed her smooth thigh from his blue jeans.

And he was such a nice boy when they first met in their math class. "You're such a good girl Sandy." he purred in her ear. She felt sick, but she said nothing other than gave a gentle sob. He ripped her underwear from her body-she heard them rip and saw him discard them over the edge of the bed-but she didn't speak a word. Just continued to sob.

He repeated into her ear what a good girl she was. How pretty she was. How he had been wanting to "do this" to her ever since they met. Three years ago. How he had watched her from a distance, all the boys she had dated, or ever come into contact with. He knew all their names. Finally she managed to whisper one word, one solid word. "Please."

She didn't want to hear anymore, she didn't want to know how long she had been followed by him anymore. He was handsome; long and shaggy brown hair with eyes as green as an emerald, a square jaw that always had the right amount of stubble and an aquiline nose. Why would someone so handsome do this to her? To anybody? Had he ever done this to anybody before?

She didn't want to know. "Don't worry babe, I'm gonna make you so happy."

He actually thought she had meant-? She blanched visibly; had she brought this torture upon herself? She heard the pop of his pants button and the zipper. "It might hurt a little at first, but you'll like it when I'm done with you. I promise."

Stop! Stop! Stop! She screamed it in her head but couldn't find the strength to actually scream. The tears stung at her eyes as she felt him go into her. It hurt, it hurt more than her first time! She wanted Sodapop there, she wanted to be held in his arms. She squeezed her china blue eyes shut as she imagined herself in Steve's car, in the back seat with Evie and giggling with her in their secret code over their boys who would just sit in the front seat with confused looks on their faces. She could even hear Soda saying to her, "I love you baby, but I don't know what you're saying!" with that good-natured grin on his face.

He was such a good man.

"Open your eyes Sandy, I wanna see those baby blues." she was ripped out of her safe world by her captor and she slowly opened them, the tears made it difficult to see but she couldn't care less-she didn't want to see her harasser. His fingers brushed some of her blond hair from her forehead and she shirked from his touch. "Aw don't be like that baby doll, aren't you likin it?"

She wanted to say no, but all she could do was give another sob. This angered the man on top of her. His face became angry, angrier than she had even seen Dallas Winston's. "You sayin I ain't good enough for you?"

Again she stood still, the feeling of that boy violating her being in a slow and steady rhythm making her want to die.

His speed inside her increased and she started to wail. Please just stop this!

Before she knew it she felt warmth inside of her-he had cum all inside. He gave he another kiss, it was cold and twisted. "I think I should go again and make sure you like it."

She shook her head, but it didn't change the matter at all. He violated her again and on the second go it lasted much longer.

He came inside a second time, groaning madly as he emptied into her. "Was that better my little dollie?"

This time she nodded, her face stained in tears and his poisoned kisses. Again she felt him kiss her cheek. "I bet Sodapop never made love to you like that."

She answered honestly this time, "no". She and Soda had sex only once, and that was her first time and it was kind, and gentle, and slow, and awkward. It was perfect and beautiful and she couldn't wait for their wedding day to do it again. What she had just suffered was hell.

The boy seemed satisfied with her answer and got off of her and cleaned himself up. Once he seemed efficiently distracted Sandy bolted up and headed towards the door, a fresh wave of tears stinging her eyes. She wrenched the door open and flew down the steps she was forced to climb over a half hour ago and left the demonic presence of the person she once thought of as a friend.

Still she heard him in her head-saying it wasn't the end of them. How he loved her and would take her again.

She forced the thought from her mind as she ran down the sidewalk, heading to the only place she could think of-home.

She had half expected a cop to pull her over, or to get mugged-not like she had anything on her, she had left her purse back at his house-or worse… She didn't want to think about it, but it was the only thing she could think of.

She wanted to tell the police, to tell Sodapop and his brothers. But she knew the cops would never believe her, and if they wouldn't why would Sodapop? She had heard stories from Dally's girl Sylvia about cops not taking rape seriously; about how the cops always pointed the finger at the girl, saying she led him on or her clothes led him to have sex with her. Sandy was a greaser girl, it was only natural that they would say it was a false complaint, that it was consensual and now she just wanted money.

Especially since Chuck Schmidt was an upper city boy from a "good family". How could a family be good and have a monster like that as a son? As she crossed over the train tracks to her side of the city she slowed down, her breath fast and a cramp in her side. She just wanted to die.

By the time she got home it was dark; her parents were asleep and the last thing she wanted to do was to make either of them angry. She tip-toed up the steps and into her room. The moment the door shut behind her she tore off her sweater, skirt, and kitten heels and stuffed them as far into the back of her closet as she could, promising to herself to burn or trash them. Anything to destroy her personal hell.

Even with her clothes off she felt violated and sick. She looked down to notice dried cum and blood on her legs and she threw up a bit in her mouth. That twisted freak was all inside her. A fresh wave of tears and she ran out of her room as quietly as possible and down the hall into the bathroom.

She wetted a cloth with scalding water from the sink and drowned it in soap before rubbing her privates until they were raw and red. She still felt him there. He was in her head, in her soul! She looked at herself in the mirror, but couldn't bare to look herself in the eye. She could see she looked like hell though. She scrubbed herself again before giving up. She was tired, exhausted. She walked back to her room and fell asleep, praying to God if he existed to help her overcome and to help her forget.

He would never let her forget so long as there was more of her to take.