Chapter 8
Melody
It’s a warm night in Silicon Valley. My friends Rachel, Alex, and I are all out in the city, bar hopping and dancing the night away.
“Fuck that place, it wasn’t good at all. The bouncers were creeps too,” says Alex, slurring her words and barely able to stand up straight without swaying on her feet.
Rachel just laughs at her. Alex has always been the dramatic one. I just nod my head and agree with her.
“What do you say we stop at one more bar and then we can head home?” Rachel asks. She doesn’t even wait for our reply before she’s looping her arms through both of ours, leading the way.
We walk for what feels like forever and my heeled feet are starting to hurt. Though I’m used to wearing heels for special occasions, I am NOT used to wearing them out for six plus hours walking to ten different bars.
Finally, we arrive to the bar as announced by Rachel. Duke’s Bar. Sounds simple enough. The outside is dated, and I can tell this bar is a little more rundown than the rest we were at tonight. I’m just looking forward to sitting down and getting off my feet though.
Once inside, we beeline straight for the bar and signal the bartender over. Rachel orders a martini neat, Alex orders a whiskey sour, and I just ask for water. The bartender gives me a look but continues on to make the drinks. Whatever, I’ve had enough drinking for one night and I’d prefer to be sober when I catch a ride home. Too many sleazy people in the world that would be more than happy to take advantage of a drunk girl.
A couple of guys make their way over to us, probably to buy us drinks and start some boring conversation before ending it with, “Hey, you wanna get outta here?” It’s always the same. I turn away from them and tell the girls I’m going to head out for the night. I use my Uber app to request a ride home. It’s not the cheapest but definitely worth not driving drunk.
As we say our goodbyes, I take one last drink of my water, then head outside to wait for the Uber. As I stand waiting, I can hear the music from inside the bar each time the door opens.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?” someone asks from behind me.
As I turn, my world tilts on its axis. I know I wasn’t that drunk when I got to the bar and all I had was a water. If anything I should be more sober. It makes me immediately on edge, though it feels like my brain is processing everything extremely slow.
“Imf… note… avone…” I say, slurring my words as the world continues to spin.
“Here, let’s sit you down before you fall on that pretty face of yours.”
Next thing I know I’m being dragged down the alley next to the bar. I can’t make out much of the guy other than he’s tall, maybe six foot, wearing a ghost mask with the mesh eye coverings removed, and tattoos all over his arms. I try to fight his grasp, clawing my nails at his arms and hoping beyond hope that someone hears my garbled cries for help. I continue to yell, but no one can hear me; it’s useless.
My world erupts into a bright white. Then comes the pain. He hit me with something—a brick maybe? Blood starts running down my face and then I’m slammed up against the wall. He grabs at the hem of my dress, trying to lift it up, grabbing me roughly and scraping my skin. He has one hand on my throat, choking me enough that I’m left gasping for air. He starts to fumble with his belt and I know exactly what he’s trying to do. I immediately begin to fight with renewed life, kicking and hitting any part of him that I can. He brings my face up to his masked one, and I can just barely make out the browns of his eyes. They are soulless, and it feels as though he’s the reaper coming to claim my soul. Before I can think, he slams my head against the brick building and my world goes black…