This time I know that I'm dreaming. There's a fuzzy quality about everything, but it still feels like everything is happening to me in real time. Maybe that's because it did.
I can smell the cloying scent of cotton candy and funnel cake from the carnival not a hundred yards away. The grassy hill is steep and we're out of view of anyone who might wander behind the trailers and game kiosks. It's dark, the only light coming from the rides a short distance away. I feel the unyielding lumps of dirt digging into my spine as he presses all of his weight on me.
"Wait, wait, stop," I squeeze my hands between our chests and try to push him away so I can breathe again. I manage about three inches of space.
"Come on Jess, you can't stop me now. You're killing me."
"I'm sorry, I just—I'm just not ready Will."
"Well I am."
He crushes my hands between us and brings his mouth back to mine. The sour, acidic taste of beer penetrates my system and I know he was drinking with his idiot football buddies again before he sought me out at the carnival with Jamie and his friends.
My mind is racing and I can't gather my thoughts to figure a way out of this. His belt is digging into my hip as I try to squirm out from under him. He pins my legs to the ground with his. His barrel chest is still pinning my arms against my own tiny frame. I'm completely helpless. My breath stalls and panic sets in. I manage to tear my face away from his ruthless assault.
"Please! Don't do this Will!"
"Shh, it's okay babe, it'll only hurt for a minute."
When his hand rakes up my thigh and under my skirt, I cry out. That's when he slaps my face and clamps his hand over my mouth. The sting radiates from cheekbone to jaw. I whimper against his palm and tears burn their way down my cheeks. I try to squeeze my legs shut but it doesn't thwart his attack. I hear the cotton of my underwear rend. That almost inaudible sound snaps me back into control of myself. I need to get away from him. Now.
I lock my ankles together and force my knees up between his legs with as much power as I can muster. It doesn't do much damage because of the way he's positioned above me, but the surprise of my retaliation shocks him and he shifts to the side, clutching himself.
"You fucking bitch!"
Before he can regain control I throw my weight to the side in an attempt to roll out from under him. I end up on my side and he wraps his massive arms around my body immobilizing my arms yet again. I twist and struggle but I'm not strong, I can't break his hold. I kick back but my feeble attempts are met with a chuckle.
"You're making this harder on yourself! Just relax, I'll make it quick," he snarls in my ear as one hand covers my breast and squeezes hard.
Think Jessie, think!
Suddenly I realize the only part of my body I still have full control over. I stop struggling long enough to tip my head forward and rear back, cracking my skull into his nose. I feel something wet on the back of my neck and all at once I'm free from Will's grasp.
He's swearing, rolling around on the ground with his hands pressed to his face in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. I don't wait around for him to recover. I start running up the hill toward the flashing lights and sounds of the carnival, panting with the effort. I don't turn around for a second.
When I see Jamie's face, obviously scouring the crowd looking for me, and our eyes meet, my body finally sags in relief and I slow to a walk. Relief replaces terror and exhaustion sets in. I walk into Jamie's arms and the tears begin pouring from my eyes.
That is how I wake up. Tears are still streaming down my cheeks and my body is covered in sweat. I haven't dreamt about that night, in that much detail, in so long that it completely disables me and I can't yet force myself out of bed.
I must have fallen back to sleep after Dean's visit. The sun is shining brightly through the blinds so it's most likely past noon. My heart is thundering in my ears as I regulate my breathing and remind myself that it's over.
I finally manage to pull myself up into a seated position. I scrub my hands over my face, banishing the salty streaks. I can't believe I'm still so affected by that bastard, six years later. I refuse to let that night contaminate my life again. It almost creeped in last night, and I know that's what brought on this dream. But Dean isn't Will. Dean is a good guy. Will was a bastard I was young and dumb enough to trust because he was too popular and funny and nice to ever do anything bad to me. He turned out to be a cheating, steroid-fueled piece of garbage who forced himself on me when I made him wait too long for the only thing he really wanted to begin with.
But Will is long gone, and even if he wasn't I can take care of myself now. I'm no longer helpless. I'm no longer a victim. I'm a god damn fighter.
So why do I want to curl up into a ball and cry right now? Deep down I guess I know what my problem is. I just don't know how to be with a man without worrying that the same thing is going to happen again. Logically I understand that Dean and Will are two different people. The rational side of my brain knows that I haven't once felt a moment of fear or anxiety over anything Dean has done with me. But the scared little sixteen year old inside of me still worries that he'll turn into someone else when he wants what I'm just not ready to give. Just like Will.