Chapter One: Agony
The pain was the worst part for her. It shot up between her legs, causing her to arch her back and scream. She twisted her legs trying to get rid of him and his thrusting attack. But the duct tape around her mouth muffled her scream, her legs were held down firmly by large strong hands, and he continued to push into her without pause.
He removed himself, groaning in satisfaction and she heard the zip of his pants as he closed them. She yanked futily at her hands tied to the bedpost above her head.
The sharp pain was now replaced with a dull, throbbing ache and she whimpered through the gag over her mouth. A hand slapped her face.
"Shut up" said a voice.
The air reeked with alcohol and sweat, moving shadows in the dark, those who were waiting their turn.
Another slid into her, and again she tried to get away. The hands on her legs tightened more painfully. Sweaty fingers pushed her shirt up to her neck, and began to clumsily fondle her breasts with enthusiasm.
"Damn, have you seen the size of her tits?" said Clumsy Hands, and she felt the grip on them tighten harder.
"Those are nothing. I've done bigger. She has a nice grip though. I might do her again after you're done."
"Man, fuck you," said someone holding her feet. "We all get a turn before anyone goes again."
The hours and the pain dragged by with incredible slowness. After a while she went limp and gave up struggling. Instead her mind went to a park, where she sat in a small cave overlooking the lake.
The hand slapped her again but she didn't respond.
"Shit, it doesn't feel so good anymore." Complained someone.
"That's 'cause you rode her so fucking hard you asshole! It's all your fault her pussy isn't as tight."
"Man let's get out of here then. It's almost morning anyway."
She didn't hear them go, didn't feel her legs being released or the door closing behind them. At the lake, the sun was going down behind the trees and she could feel a cold breeze ruffling her hair. A tear rolled slowly down her cheek. Her heart was swollen with longing to be there where she felt safe and happy. Her tired, abused body was shutting down. Without a struggle, she gladly gave in to the dark void of unconsciousness and passed out.
Bright lights wake her up, but she didn't open her eyes. Someone was leaning over her with a flashlight. In the background she heard her roommate Annie's hysterical voice explaining:
"I got back at like six in the morning and found her just lying on the bed like this."
"Did you touch anything in the room Annie?" a voice asked, it was calm and precise.
"I tried to wake her up and I also took the tape off her wrists and mouth. And I pulled her shirt down because it was up on her neck. Then I called for help"
"She was taped to the bed by her wrists?"
"Yeah her arms were stuck…I mean someone had taped them together around the bedpost. And she wouldn't wake up."
"I understand you were only trying to help her. But by meddling with the crime scene the fingerprints of her attackers may be compromised. We'll take her back with us and see if we can get some DNA samples off of her. Are the beer cans yours?"
"No, it's not allowed in the dorms."
"We'll take those too then and see if we can get anything off of them. Thank you for your time."
She drifted off to sleep and heard no more. Sleep was an escape from the pain for her now, where she didn't have to feel or remember anything at all…
Dr. Ellison looked down at the sleeping form on the bed.
"You say the victim was raped by at least 5 men who broke into her dorm rooms?" her voice rose incredulously.
"We were able to get at least five partial different handprints on the cans." Affirmed the Officer Blacksmith. "We were hoping you could get some DNA samples when she wakes up, and possibly get a full story of what occurred."
"Besides what we already know."
"All we know is there was at least 5 different attackers, but if she knows names or can describe their faces we can catch them before anymore women are assaulted. It was obviously a traumatic, and we don't know what the shock will do to her emotionally."
"It would be a traumatic experience for anyone to go through officer."
"Agreed."
"I'll see what I can do."
"I brought some of her personal belongings with her. Clothes, wallet, cell phone-in case she decides she wants to call family or friends. Actually her roommate insisted on me bringing her these things."
Dr. Ellison opened the wallet, checking the driver's license.
"Jamie Scott, born 1991, blond hair, brown eyes."
She snapped the wallet shut. "Thank you officer, I think that will be all," dismissing him. He touched his hat in salute and left, exiting the hospital.
A cold hand was touching Jamie's wrist, twisting it gently to the right, and then to the left. She lashed out instinctively, sitting up and looking wildly around. She was sitting naked on an examination table, with a screen surrounding her for privacy. Jamie pulled her knees up to her chest for protection, blinking in the bright light. There were only three people surrounding her, two nurses and a doctor, all female.
"Jamie. Please calm down." That was the doctor speaking. " You are safe now. The police brought you to the Sinai Institute and you have been unconscious for most of the day. We were doing some minor examinations on you until you woke up. We just need to look you over and make sure everything is okay."
Jamie curled up more, the paper crackling under her bare skin.
'Should we sedate her Dr. Ellison?" asked a nurse, and the doctor regarded the girl who was cowering on the table like a frightened, caged animal.
"No." She decided. "She's had her share of frightening experiences. Let's see if we can get her to cooperate without drastic measures."
Jamie studied Dr. Ellison. She was a pale, fat woman, with white hair tied up in a bun and blue eyes. She seemed relaxed, yet there was an air of authority about her that commanded respect. And she was a female doctor. That made it easier. But she still hesitated.
"Jamie?" Said Dr. Ellison. "I need you to relax so I can compile a record of your injuries and get some DNA samples. That way we can have proof of who did this to you. You want that right?"
Jamie nodded.
"I promise it won't take too long." The doctor added, "and then we can send you home. Alright?"
Jamie shook her head. Dr. Ellison frowned. "You don't want to go home?" she said puzzled.
Jamie opened her mouth to explain but no sound came out. She wanted to explain that the only place she wanted to be was beside the lake, where she felt safe and happy. A nurse came forward cautiously.
"Could you open your mouth for me Jamie?" she said. Jamie obeyed reluctantly, and the nurse shone a penlight inside.
"Throat is coated and red." The nurse reported. " No doubt she was screaming through the gag for hours." Jamie nodded hard. "Possible laryngitis, or shock is causing muteness. She should be fine in a couple days." The nurse finished.
"Give Jamie a pen and pad so we can ask her questions then." Said Dr. Ellison. "After we finish the examination."
She held out her hand and with some reluctance, Jamie let her examine her arm.
"You were taped to the bed?" she asked. Jamie nodded.
"There is severe bruising on her ankles and lower calves, doctor." Said a nurse, looking at her bare legs without touching them.
"Did they hold your legs down Jamie?" inquired Dr. Ellison, and Jamie nodded again, the fear clutching the pit of her stomach as she remembered. She flinched, startled as another nurse examined her other arm, and Dr. Ellison waved them away, examining the arm herself.
Half an hour later they had all the data they needed and taken swabs to test for DNA. Jamie was then free to climb down and put her change of clothes on in the restroom.
Locking the door behind her, she put her clothes on, trying to avoid the bruised and sore areas with her hands and eyes as much as possible. Finishing, she looked up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A stranger looked back.
Her skin looked paler then usual under the florescent lights, her hair still messy and disheveled. Bruises covered her neck, disappearing under her shirt. Her right cheek had a bruise in the shape of a handprint on it from being slapped repeatedly. She seemed to be cowering, even from her own reflection, as she pulled the long sleeves lower to hide the discoloration on her wrists. Her face was expressionless, her eyes flat and dull brown, with heavy circles around her eyes from lack of sleep. "I look dead" Jamie realized, but instead of feeling sadness for her transformation, she just felt empty. "Maybe I am dead inside." She thought.
Michael Campwell was sleeping, snuggled warmly under the covers with his girlfriend Emma, when his cell phone rang. Drowsily, he fumbled for the light beside the bed, and squinted around the room, looking for the damn phone. The ringing seemed to be coming from Emma's crumpled shirt and pants pile on the floor and he pushed it aside, grabbing the phone and flipping it open before the last ring.
"Hello?" he croaked wearily, and sat up yawning, rubbing his hand against his short beard.
"Michael Campwell? This is Dr. Ellison from the Sinai Institute, I apologize for the lateness of the hour."
"What's this about?" he asked, and looked to see that Emma was stirring next to him, a hand over her eyes against the glare of the lamplight.
"I am calling in regards to your friend Jamie Scott, she requested you until such time as her parents can pick her up."
A stab of fear hit Michael and he gripped the phone tightly, trying to keep his voice from cracking.
"Jamie? What's wrong with her?"
"She was attacked and raped 24 hours ago. She has been treated, and she is physically healthy, but we thought it would be best for her to be taken out of school for the time being. Her parents will be able to fly down and take her home on Monday, but she needed somewhere to stay until then."
Michael was already swinging his legs out of bed and pulling on his clothes.
"I'll be right there" he said, and hung up.