Author's Note: This character is based off of an original of mine. She's a reincarnation of Goldilocks, and this would have happened nearly three-four years ago. Please note that this does contain rape, but nothing is explicit. It took me all of four-five hours to successfully write, and I hope that it turned out as well as a friend of mine said it did.

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Tonight had gone relatively well, to say the least. She had gone to a mixer for her sorority, and being a freshmen? It was a great way to make friends and remember names and faces. It was mostly fraternities and other sororities in attendance, but there were other people there. The party was an open one, and there was no harm in making friends with other people, too, right? But she felt so young around all of these people. Most of them were drinking alcohol, and yet here she was holding a cup full of coke between her hands. She had managed a few smiles to some of her own 'sisters' that she had recognized, but otherwise stayed put near the front door and kept herself quiet. And that was when he had approached her.

He smiled charmingly at her in a way that almost reminded her of Josh's. Almost, but not quite. His wasn't as brilliant and as wide as Josh's, and he would have probably worked over half, if not most, of the room, already. But this boy was kind of cute. His hair was a dark brown and he had been looking at her for the pat ten minutes, if not more. He sidled over to her and quietly introduced himself as John Baker, and Rosy had done the same. After a few minutes of idle chatter and small talk, he invited to take her outside for a walk, and she hurriedly agreed. At least she was getting some attention tonight! Besides, at least he was good-looking and seemed polite enough, right?

And all it took was one moment. One single damn moment in which she had turned around to pull her dress away from the wall, which had caught onto a small piece of the wood that was sticking out and small enough to snag it enough to make her turn her attention toward it. All she had to do was swipe her hand down and check the fabric, and that was enough time for him to slip a dime-sized amount of chloral hydrate into her soda. Rosy had turned back to him with a bright smile and took and long gulp of her soda before setting it down on a small table and grabbing her coat to go on their walk, the 'Mickey' having not effected her, as of yet.

They had been walking for nearly twenty minutes before she started to feel anything. At first she felt a little lightheaded and dizzy, but she was soon stumbling in her steps. She hadn't drank any alcohol, so why was she feeling this way? She felt like her equilibrium was suddenly off balance and was causing her to tip over every which way. She was barely coherent enough to remember when she tripped over her own feet and fell right into his awaiting arms. She heard him mumble something about taking her back to her sorority house, but her mind was so foggy by now that it was impossible to stay connected, to remember who she was or even where she was. Everything was so cloudy and dreamlike that it was frightening, and she felt as if she were scrambling around but not moving a muscle. Something wasn't right. Something had to be wrong with her. Maybe her soda had been laced with alcohol or something, and since she had drank so much of it she was finally feeling its effects?

The moment he had placed her into his car was the moment things began to go downhill. She struggled to keep her head up, but it merely lolled against the cold panel of the window. He snickered lightly in the background, but that was what it remained to her - just background music. He had driven for awhile, but light from the streetlamps was seeping in through the tint of the windows. Rosalind blinked blearily out of the glass in an attempt to see where they were, but to no avail. Nothing could be focused on at this point, and she only know noticed that she wasn't in the front seat, but in the back. Oh no. This couldn't be happening to her. Not to her! She feebly tried to reached for the door handle, knowing that she'd rather deal with almost getting run over by other cars than what was sure to be going on, but it was so hard to function with the drug in her system. And it was all happening sooner than she would have hoped for it to. This was not how she wanted this to happen.

The engine of the car was quieted, and the only thing that remained on was the radio. She felt a shifting of the weight distribution in the car, and he was suddenly looming over her, the features of her predator's face becoming a little more than blurry to her. She could only see the dark mess of hair atop of his head, and a general outline of his physique, but that was it. Everything else was hidden from her as if someone had put a frosted glass between the pair of them. He pushed her dress up and around her hips, all the while she tried to swat at his hands before he could reach his destination. She jerked her body against him to try and get away from him, but he was too quick for her while she was in her current state. He pinned her beneath the weight of his body, and held her hands successfully still above her head. Sleep was attempting to take her completely over and drown her in the darkness. She fought against it as best as she could, but it was difficult to do so when an outside force was controlling you and your every movement. He roughly tugged down her last remaining undergarment that stood between him and his destination, and aggressively nudged her thighs apart with his free hand. He grabbed at her and touched her in a not-so-intimate manner before he pushed himself completely into her. It was a pain unlike any other that she had felt, even while she had engaged in this once before. But it had been gentle and kind when it had happened before, and she didn't feel as if she were suddenly on fire and being ripped apart by pruning sheers. She cried out and tried to pull herself away, but the damage was definitely already done. She hadn't even heard him unzip his pants or anything! He reached up and placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pain as he thrust into her with hard strokes. The air was mingled with desperation and agony on her side, and lust, triumph, and moaning on his.

It was somewhere between the first dozen or so pushes into her body and the time that she had shaken herself back into consciousness that she had fainted beneath him. He took this as an opportunity for himself and had slid his rough hands beneath her dress and grabbed her chest without any inhibition and with a pressure that was sure to leave red marks upon her flesh after this was all over and done with; if he didn't kill her, first. She felt like she was swimming in a never ending ocean, and by the time she had broken through the glassy surface of the deep water, he was thrusting with more fervor into her body and groaning louder than he had been before. He was still grabbing at her roughly, and one last push had driven him over the edge and he buried himself deep within her most intimate space to finish the deed. He panted above her for awhile before he had redressed himself and carelessly pulled her own undergarments back into their proper place.

Rosy was so physically exhausted that she had passed out in the backseat of his car again, not even noticing when he had sped off and back toward the main road. It had taken him little to no time to arrive back at the sorority house, and he carried her inside with that same charming grin that he had used on her only a mere hour or so before this entire mess. His arms were beneath her knees and her back, and her head lolled like she was a baby doll or something. The head of the sisterhood eyed him and the small blonde in his arms carefully, and lifted a neatly shaped eyebrow up at him. "What happened to her?" she demanded, and a few of the other girls nearby caught wind of what was going on. They came forward, all with the same expression upon their features, but most of it was out of concern. "She passed out - guess she had too much to drink. But you better get her to bed," he smirked, and a young woman reached forward to help with Rosy. John moved in a motion to help her up the stairs, but a few of the other girls ushered him away and aided with helping one of their new sisters up to her shared room. One of the smaller girls grunted - she felt like dead weight! She was heavier now, they were sure of, since she didn't appear to weigh that much. The girls sagged and struggled all the way up to the third floor of their house, trying to be careful with her and not bump her head against the wall or anything. Rosy didn't stir or wake up by the jostling as they kind of dropped her into bed with some gasps, and her roommate kindly tucked her in.

She awoke the next morning with an overwhelming sense of grogginess, and her head was heavy when she attempted to lift it from the soft and feathery pillow. A soft groan was emitted from her throat and she forced herself with a long grunt to get out of bed. She stumbled around and reached out to hang onto the curtains around the windows that were just a few feet away from her bed. She groped along the wall while blinded by the darkness in the room. Her entire body felt sore and ached, and the house seemed all too quiet to her, and the words welcome back breakfast rang painfully in her head. "Ugh," she moaned and found her way to the communal bathroom. She flipped on the lights with a lazy shift of her hand against the wall, and she staggered to the mirror. She half-gasped at the way her blonde hair stuck up all over the place, and elected to take a shower. It would help to ease the tense muscles of her body, and hopefully wake her up. What happened last night?

Her clothes had been shed upon the tiled floor, and the hot water was running over her body in time with her hands and soap. She sighed in contentment and another noise escaped her lips to signify her satisfaction. The water loosened her muscles, and yet a sudden pain caused her to double over slightly and press her palms to the wall. She gasped and clenched her eyes shut, trying in vain to remember what the hell had gone on last night. A damp perspiration created a thin layer on her skin as parts of it came back to her, and the tears from the dull ache between her thighs also returned. "Oh no," she groaned with a slight sob. "No, no no no.." she practically begged to the shower head and clenched her legs together tightly. How could she have let something like that happen to her? She knew she wouldn't have let it occur willingly, obviously, but how else? Everything was so blurry and unfocused, and it was hard to take a clear snapshot of all of the events from the previous night. Tears began to fall freely down her already tear-stained cheeks, and she worked hard to keep them at bay and from overcoming her completely, but it was much to late. Her body shook with anguish and she felt her knees buckle. She cried out as she slipped to the floor and let the spray of the hot water splash onto her face. She shook her head fervently as if this would make all of this disappear and into a horrible nightmare, and came to the realisation that she wouldn't be able to tell anyone about this. She would be humiliated and lectured, and wouldn't it be essentially her word against his? Everything from the party had been cleaned up, and she didn't even know if she had been slipped something or had willingly taken something from him! And she couldn't even remember his name.

As the water upon her scalp flattened her hair over her face, she promised herself to never breathe a word of this, and just get on and live with life. She didn't know if she could deal with the consequences that would come of it, especially if he found out and then proceeded to come after her for telling. But give that she hadn't a clue as to what his name was? She knew that her hands were forcefully tied behind her back, and she was powerless.