Backwards: A Love Story
A story about terror, survival, love, and forgiveness
Olivia had just finished up her paperwork from a disturbing case and decided to get a drink to clear her mind. It was late, practically midnight. It was dark outside but Olivia wasn't the kind of person to ever get scared. She stood outside of the precinct listening to the whispers of the wind, wondering what they were trying to tell her. She wondered why she even went on, when the rapists and murderers she put away almost always were released early on parole. But inside she knew, she kept going because it was the only thing she could do, because if she knew that if she didn't do something about the evil that was swallowing the world then it would swallow too much.
As Olivia walked on the cold sidewalk, she in no way let her guard down. Olivia was strong and Olivia was stubborn and nothing could ever stop her. She wanted to stop thinking about that evil son-of-a-bitch who had raped, tortured, and killed three teenagers. Krissa Lee's limbs had been severed, while Anna McMann and Kelsi Riders' bodies remained in tact, but did it really matter….all three of them were dead and even though the son-of-a-bitch Porter wouldn't be able to kill anyone else for a heck of a long time, three innocent lives had still been lost. No one deserved that.
Olivia shook her head in despair. She arrived at the bar and walked in and sat down. She would only have a couple of drinks; probably only one. She just wanted to forget everything for a short while. The bartender tried to make conversation with her but she said she was tired and just wanted to think. She finished her drink and went to pay and close her tab.
She stood up to leave, desperate to sink into her soft bed and warm blankets so she could wake up and it would be a new day. The bar smelled like shit, and the men were all so noisy and boisterous. Olivia opened the door of the bar and walked outside. She walked a couple blocks before she realized that she was walking in the wrong direction. Laughing at herself, she sat down on the curb to catch her breath. She only let her guard down for a moment. She didn't hear the footsteps creeping behind her, and wasn't prepared when a man grabbed her and threatened her with a knife. Olivia wouldn't let herself be afraid, even though the knife was digging into her chest. She writhed around and tried to kick the man, but he was too strong, he tightened his grip on her.
Olivia continued fighting his will. She used her chin to knock the knife out of the man's hands and escape from his grip, but almost as soon as the man was down, he was back up again. He grabbed her and dragged her into a dark alley. Olivia was kicking and screaming. "NOO! Let me go! Why are you doing this?"
The gruff man kicked her in the chest, causing her to stumble into the navy blue dumpster in the ally he had trapped her in. The man pushed her against the dumpster and tore off her shirt. "LET ME GO!" Olivia screamed, hoping that someone would hear her. She felt so useless. She should have been able to protect herself; she was a special victims unit detective, for God's sake. "NO!! Let go of me!"
"Shut up, bitch," the man yelled, slapping her on the face. "Take off your pants," he told her.
"NO WAY!" Olivia screamed.
"Fine, I guess I'll have to do it the hard way," the man taunted. He kicked her to the ground and used the knife that he had retrieved from the ground when he had grabbed Olivia the second time to slice open her jeans. The knife was so sharp and jagged that it dug into her flesh, carving red lines into her legs. She was pretty sure the sick bastard was making the knife dig deep enough to draw blood instead of just cutting the pants off on purpose. Olivia was trembling. She knew what the inevitable was; he was going to rape her. He had her pinned down and she was trying to escape but he was stronger. She forced herself to look at his face and memorize his features (he had longish, dirty black hair, greenish-gray eyes, and pale skin) so she could identify him in a line-out once it was all over and the squad caught him, which she was sure they would. She would personally see to it that he never saw the light again. Plus, she thought to herself, trying to make herself feel better, she was a cop so the charges would be higher.
He would pay for what he was doing.
"Stop crying, bitch. No one's gonna find you, no one's gonna hear you," the bastard screamed. Olivia hadn't even noticed that she was crying but she couldn't stop. He whacked her on the chest and screamed, "I told you, shut up!"
He ripped her panties off and threw himself on top of her. Olivia felt sick. She thought she was going to throw up. He was touching her all over her breasts. He pushed her harder onto the ground and forced himself inside of her, going so far in that it tore the flesh. "No, no, please stop, please stop…" Olivia cried, and he slapped her on the stomach and slammed her onto the ground. He went out a little bit and slammed in harder and deeper. Olivia was squirming and trying to get free. She turned her head to the side. She didn't want to look; she didn't want this to be real. She just wanted it to stop.
But the sick bastard grabbed her face and yelled, "Look at me, bitch," and forced his lips onto her lips. Olivia spat at him. "I hate you, I hate you, stop, just leave me alone…"
After what felt like hours the bastard finally let go of her and shoved her against the dumpster. "Don't you dare tell anyone, or I'll kill you," he threatened, and ran way leaving her naked, alone, and shivering. Olivia couldn't stop the tears from falling; this wasn't supposed to happen to her…she wasn't supposed to be a victim; how had this happened? She thought she was strong. She thought she could defend herself, but obviously she was wrong. Olivia curled up into a ball and shivered, but then she came to her senses; she had to get up, go home and forget it happened.
She grabbed her ripped clothing and put it on. She hoped no one would see her as she was struggling to walk back to her apartment. She didn't want anyone to see the bruises and the blood and hell she didn't want anyone to know that she was raped.
Unfortunately she had to pass the precinct on her way home, and it turned out to be one of those nights where Elliot stayed at the precinct because he couldn't sleep and wanted to get more work done. Olivia had stayed until past two in the morning before. What time was it, even? 2 a.m.? 3 a.m.? Olivia had no clue.
She hoped that no one would see her but Elliot saw someone walking outside that looked like she had been attacked. He couldn't tell that it was Olivia from where he was sitting working on his paperwork, but he jumped up and ran to the door. When he ran outside he wasn't prepared for what he saw; it was Olivia, bloody and bruised. Her clothes were torn.
"What happened to you, Liv?" Elliot asked, concern growing in his eyes. He reached out to hug Olivia but Olivia trembled so Elliot instantly let go. "What happened, Liv?" He hoped that what it looked like happened wasn't what happened.
Olivia didn't want Elliot to see her like this. "I…I was raped," she said. Her voice was so small and fragile. Elliot wished that he had been there to protect her. Olivia didn't deserve it.
"I want to go home, El. I want to wash his filth off of me…" Olivia said, barely containing her tears.
"But…Liv….you need to be checked out, you might be injured, and besides….you need to have a…"
"No, no rape kit," Olivia insisted. "I just want to forget that it happened."
"Liv, how many victims have you told that they would feel better if they helped make sure the perp didn't touch anyone else?"
"I know, I know, but I just want to forget," Olivia whispered, shaking. "I know I have to," Olivia said. "Okay, okay, fine," she conceded.
TO BE CONTINUED….
