Neighbors Chapter 8

trigger warning for violence and rape

"Bon," Marceline called, shaking my shoulder.
I yawned and rose my head up from her lap, rubbing the red spot on my cheek. I lazily rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I sat up. Was it morning already?
"I better go now if I wanna make it to work on time," she said.
I stretched my arms out and nodded, still very groggy. Sleeping bent over on the couch with my feet on the floor and my head in someone's lap was probably not a good thing to do. I felt like I only got half the sleep I actually did.
Before Marceline could stand to leave, I grabbed her wrist, leaning over to give her a quick peck on the lips. She smiled when she pulled away, and I smiled back.
"Have a good day," I hummed.
"You too," she said with blush, then left my apartment.
After another ten minutes of talking myself out of going back to sleep, I made myself coffee and a light breakfast. After that, I showered, did my make up and hair, dressed in my uniform, and then sat around until it was time to leave.
When it was time, I grabbed my keys, locked up, and walked down to my car. I hopped inside, put the keys in, then turned them. The engine complained, then there was no sound. I turned the keys again. Nothing this time.
I rolled my eyes and stepped out of my car. I knew enough about them to handle most things, to many people's surprise. I opened the hood and looked around. I found it was just as I feared, spark plugs. I had overlooked the warning signs or forgotten about them, I wasn't sure which. It was unlike me. But I suppose I have been distracted for a while, by a certain gorgeous woman. A woman with long, legs and skin like hazel. A woman who had an intimidating exterior but and interior sweeter than honey.
"Focus," I told myself. I snatched my phone out of my car and called the bakery, informing them I would be late due to car trouble. It wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience, being only a twenty minute walk. Once the proper people were informed, I started my walk.
It was busy for a Monday. We made at least three birthday cakes and there wasn't a moment where someone wasn't at the register buying something for most of the day. When people stopped coming in by the dozens, cleaning had to be done. That took much longer than usual, and I even pitched in so that we could leave by at least eleven o'clock.
When the employees and I all clocked out, we were all exhausted. My feet were throbbing and my muscles ached. I just wanted to go home and sleep for twelve hours. But as usual, I had to make sure I was the last one out before locking up. It wasn't until after I waved the last car away that I remembered my car was out of commission and I had forgotten to ask for a ride from anyone. I picked my phone up, wondering if Marceline would give me a ride. But I suppose I had forgotten to charge it last night as I glared at the black screen.
I huffed and stomped out of the bakery, locking the front doors. I was exhausted and had to walk for twenty minutes straight before I could get home and relax. What a flippin' bummer.
It was a week day, so with people having sleep to worry about in order to function properly for their jobs, the street was fairly empty. I walked in silence as my legs and back complained.
"Bonnie, isn't it," I heard an unfamiliar voice call.
I turned to meet the source of the voice. When my eyes found him, I froze when my eyes saw something metal reflecting the glow of the street lights in his hand. I took a step back, and he took two steps forward. Sweat beaded on my forehead and neck and my heart fluttered, causing my breathing to quicken.
"Where's Marcy?"
I turned, ready to run, but he caught me by the wrist before I could move my legs fast enough.
"It was just a question, princess, don't freak out on me, okay?"
The knife slid up my arm. I flinched tried to scream. All that I could choke out was a silent yelp. He pinned my arm behind my back and held the knife to my throat. My heart was a jackhammer in my chest and it suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.
"Its really not safe for anyone to be walking the streets alone at night without some kind of protection," he whispered into my ear. He slid the tip of the knife against the skin on my neck.
"Ash, please," I begged in between panicked gasps. "You can have my wallet or what ever. Just, please."
"I'll be taking something else," he said, his lips touching my ear.
An alarm went off in my head and I realized what he was implying. I took a deep breath, knowing this was going to hurt later, and bent over, flipping him off me. I kicked the knife out of his hand and watched it slide onto the concrete and out of sight. I wanted to cry, but I didn't, so I took a few more deep breaths, getting ready to sprint away. But when I turned around, he grabbed the hem of my pant leg. I fell on the ground hard, hitting my head. My ears rang and my vision blurred. I knew it wouldn't be a concussion, but it would leave a bruise.
I turned onto my back, only to discover that he still had a hold of my pant leg. He made sure I didn't get up before he did. When he stood, I panicked. I couldn't think clearly. I should have jumped up. But he towered over me and slammed his foot down into my stomach. I coughed and gasped, huddled into the fetal position. He forced me into a sitting position and pulled an old, sweaty bandanna out of his pocket. He tied it into a gag over my mouth, then forced me to stand. My legs couldn't function properly, as I was trying not to focus on the aching in my torso.
I tried to pull away, but I was weak. He rammed the side of my head into a utility pole and my vision darkened for a while. When I came to, the first thing I heard was a plastic wrapper. There was pressure on my lower body. I flung my eyes open. I couldn't see. There was something covering my eyes. I took a deep breath, ready to cry out for help. Surely someone would hear. But before I could, something leathery and warm cupped over my mouth, muting me. I squirmed, my bare bottom skidding across the pavement. But it was useless. My mind went blank, my body went numb, and my heart pounded in my ears. I screamed and screamed, but it would go unheard into the night. It hurt and I fought back the urge to puke with each movement. Tears ran down my face. I was so powerless.
"Thanks, princess," he said as i heard him pull his zipper up. "i'd love to stay, but I'm a busy man."
His foot steps quickly faded away and I sat up, expelling all of the contents of my stomach into the pavement. I pulled off the bandanna over my eyes and looked around. It was silent, save for the crickets chirping. Blinking through blurry eyes, I pulled up my pants and stood. My legs shook and I leaned against the dumpster, vomiting a second time. After I was done, I coughed and dry heaved, chocking on my saliva and sniffling. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying not to think.
Don't think. Shower. Sleep. Don't think.
I made my way to my apartment building and into apartment 204. I made my way through my apartment and into the bathroom. I turned the light on and started the shower. It was steaming hot, but I didn't care. I let my clothes fall off and stood there, letting the water hit my body. But I couldn't feel it, I was still numb. I washed myself three times, then decided on a fourth. I still didn't feel clean. But I got out anyways, noticing my skin was turning red.
Don't think. Sleep. Don't think.
I walked naked into my bedroom and dressed myself in what ever pajamas were laying around. I turned off the lights and burrowed under my blanket, hugging my knees to my chest. But the deafening silence of the night was not pleasant. Over and over again everything I felt, everything I heard, it kept replaying in my ears like a broken record.
It was too loud, but my vocal cords wouldn't work. Tears fell, but I was silent. I didn't sleep. By the time the sun peaked into my window I had cried so much that the tears refused to fall, anymore.