Important note: Just to warn you, this fic has bits of graphic content in it. If talking about rape offends you, don't read this. I also might make this into a two-part series. This part is from Lisa's perspective.


It was glaring at her again. The puckered reddness seemed to stick out in all it's glory reminding her that it was still there and the memory of that day wasn't going away no matter how often she tried to forget. A rape wasn't something a person forgot. Even blocking it from waking memory, it would still be there buried deep in the mind.

Why did she have to be careless and seeitat the airport? It was rare that she saw the scar on her chest. At home she'd dress with the lights off or throw a sheet over the one mirror in her room. It didn't dawn on her as she slipped off the blazer that she'd catch a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. Now she regretted coming into this stall.

It happened on a warm June day. She had to pick up a liecense plate for her new white Sebring. She saved up for a year until she felt there was enough in the savings to buy a new car. It felt freeing to be able to afford something so grand on her own, so as she walked out the building - license plate in hand - a smile was on her face.

The parking lot was large and wrapped around the building. As Lisa approached her car, an average built man in a navy blue shirt and jeans was walking towards her. She wasn't really suspicious of him since many people were in and out of the Department of Transpartation.

Before Lisa could even process what was happening, she was being pushed between two vehicles. A hand clamped her mouth closed and the eerie gleam of a knife flashed in front of her face.

"Don't move or make a sound, or I'll have to use this" he warned against her cheek. Lisa stayed still, the knife brushing against the soft skin of her neck. "I've been waiting for someone like you for two days" he whispered heatenedly, a sense of excitement in his voice. Tears rolled down Lisa's temples at those words. She was praying someone would walk by. Please God anyone - she pleaded as the man slid his jeans down awkwardly. Lisa's legs jumped and cried against the sweaty palm on her mouth. His other hand crawled up her denim skirt, nimble fingers pulling down her lacy panties.

She tried to block out the feeling of him inside her. Pain seered through her insides and felt as if they were being ripped apart as the man pushed harder. The pain and disgust had no end, and regrets of listening to the man's commands started blaring in her head. Being stabbed and killed would have been better than this. She knew better than to think that now, but the thought of death instead of rape seemed more appealing on those days that the thoughts of fear and disgust overwhelmed her.

The sound of footfalls was heading their way. The man snapped up his head, loosening his hand from Lisa's mouth. She cried out, and the man didn't hesitate to slice her chest and hiss ather when she did. Lisawas still sufficating underhis weighteven though he was gone.

She barely remembered recieving the gash that turned into the scar. If the memory of the rape wasn't bad enough, the man had to leave a physical reminder of that day and that's what upset her the most. She could escape her thoughts sometimes, but the scar would always be there and even with it covered up, she could still feel the puckered state of it brushing against her clothing.

Ignore it. Just ignore it - she thought as she pulled the light pink sleeveless blouse over her head. Don't let it rule you. It's just a scar. And really, no one else would ever have to know where it came from. Don't let it rule you - she repeated as she walked through the airport. She wouldn't let it down her tonight. She caught sight of the man from the check-in line sittingalone at the Tex Mex.

"Hi. Uh, is this seat taken?"

No,the scarwouldn't rule her tonight.