a ghost's endeavour
by mynameisvaleria
*I blame Civil War for igniting my fanfiction-writing tendencies from three years ago. But anyway, when I started writing this I was not in a good place, but university had inspired jaded cynicism (in conjunction to kickstarting a serious desire to end up in the writing field), so this is the product and marriage of it.
Warning: Rape is mentioned and I have done my best to reduce the descriptiveness of it without taking away from the story.
0.
Hayley Song regarded herself as a vigilant and intelligent person, but tonight did not exhibit either of them. Currently, she was walking back from the library, mind clouded by his (usual) flirtatious advances.
He has a girlfriend, she kept telling herself, he probably loves her, and he could barely summon any emotion past acceptance for you.
The sudden sound of a twig cracking caught her attention, so she abandoned all thoughts and pulled out her key discreetly, gripping it tight between her knuckles. Every silent noise attracted her gaze— so much that she almost felt paranoid and foolish.
Nonetheless, when she walked by the secluded park, it happened.
(It wasn't supposed to— she'd been at this routine for five months now, and she'd never ran into trouble. Not once.)
"Shh," he warned, twisting her wrist until she dropped the key onto the dirt. "You make noise, this knife goes across your neck, okay?"
There was an overbearing urge rising inside her to just crack a smartass answer, but considering the consequences it meant for her, she decided to just nod. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she was sure he could practically smell the fear on her.
He loosened his grip to tuck away his knife, and she took the opportunity to kick him and run.
"Fuck!" he cried out, clutching his shin, "Fucking bitch!"
Scrambling, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and dialled the first number on her recent calls. The dial tone rang for three seconds, and it got picked up. She looked at the name and swore, but continued to stay connected.
"Listen, you've got to help me, I'm—"
"I'm kind of in something right now, Hayley, do you mind if I call back some other time?" his voice rang out, annoyance tingeing the edges.
"No, wait, please, I'm kind of—"
"I'm sorry, I really need to go, see you later," he rushed, his Irish accent thickening in irritation and exasperation. A female voice started in the background, and before she could say another word, the line went dead.
"Not if I die tonight, which is highly probable, given the circumstances," she muttered into the phone, the tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. Still running, she struggled to dial another number until something caught on her foot and she tripped, sending the phone several miles away from her reach.
Turning, she came into eye contact with her enraged assaulter. She cursed again, and reached harder for her phone, only for him to step onto her hand, digging his heels in painfully as she gasped in pain. "You'll pay for that, slut."
Funny, you can say that within two seconds of meeting me and whileyou're trying to rape me.
Then he kicked her in the stomach, and she screamed— both to attract attention and to attempt to diffuse some of the pain.
"Come on, scream again, I dare you," he hissed, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her up roughly. She whimpered, scrabbling and clawing at his hand to try and soothe some of the pressure on her scalp. With that, he backhanded her across the cheek, and knelt over her fallen figure. "Damn it, it's always you college girls."
Ten minutes later, when he had gotten her bra off and his dick out, that was when she knew that she was done— that what was to happen would be inevitable and there was nothing more she could do about the situation.
"Please," she spoke up, breathless from the blows but still desperately hoping that if there was one thing she could change, it would be this, "please, at least, use a condom."
She was met with a roll of the eyes, another slap across the face, and he pushed inside her without much consideration of her comfort or birth control. Apart from a vocal "no", her exhausted body gave an involuntary spasm of pain.
Her tears came down like a waterfall, and as she fought back the best she could, her mind flashed back to the cold, blatant rejection of her obvious distressed plead for help. A pang of hurt shot through her heart, travelling down her stomach, in a way hurting her more than her rapist was currently.
Around twenty (or so, she had lost count— and hope) minutes later, a car pulled into the nearby parking lot, and hearing it, she let out a shrill scream.
"Fuck," he panicked, and stood up without even bothering to threaten her, and instead just booked it out of the park.
Sighing, she rolled to her side, letting her body rest and recover, before reaching for her scattered clothes. As she was pulling them on, there was rustling of leaves, and then she came face to face with a scared boy of maybe 20 years or so. When he asked what happened and stated that she needed medical attention, she simply said, "Yes, please, lead the way," and fainted into his arms.
*note that this chapter is inspired by an incident that happened in my university (UBC) and thus the location was originally set in a forest, which would make much more sense, but for obvious plot reasons, it has been changed to a park in NYU