Chapter 3 #4
I claw at the dirt as boy number two spits on what I’m assuming is his dick before ramming it so deeply into me. I cry out in pain because I’m certain he has perforated my stomach.
All I taste is vomit and tears.
“Thataboy! Make her scream!”
The encouragement from Smokes eggs my rapist on as he pumps into me wildly and sloppily. His dick keeps slipping out of me, and suddenly, the pain is replaced with mania.
It’s the only way I know how to survive this.
I laugh hysterically, hardly the proper response, but there’s no handbook when it comes to survival because that’s what this is.
If they let me live, then I will do everything in my power to find them and do to them what they’ve done to me. But they won’t be breathing by the time I’m done with them.
“What are you laughing at, bitch?” Lisp says, rutting into me like he’s having a seizure.
“You,” I manage to get out between laughter. “And your tiny dick.”
He roars and grips my hips, forcing me onto all fours where he mounts me. My hands are now free. Just as he starts pounding into me, I dip my chin, discreetly shaking the pillowcase from my face.
I don’t know where Whiskey is.
It begins to slip down, and as Lisp continues riding me like a horse, I shake it off, and without hesitation, I propel backward with force and shove him off. They’re all in shock, which I use to my advantage as I take off faster than I’ve ever run before.
My legs are heavy and my body is bruised, but I don’t think about anything other than getting the fuck out of here.
My eyes are adjusting.
It’s even darker than I remember.
But I keep running, tugging at the ropes around my wrists until they eventually come undone.
“Get her!”
“Fuck!”
Footsteps pound behind me in hot pursuit, but now that I’m free, I don’t plan on ever stopping. I have on no shorts, but my sneakers are still on. Nothing will stop me.
“Don’t let her get away!”
Their panicked voices only fuel my need, and I suddenly see the headlights of their parked car in the distance. I am possessed by a force which I don’t question because it feels as if I’ve shed my skin and been reborn.
I burst through the woods, and when I am within feet of the car, I see my backpack, which I tossed off in haste. I grab it from the ground and dive into the car. I lock all the doors.
The keys are still in the ignition. I scream in hysterical relief and don’t hesitate to start it.
But, it groans, spluttering and turning over.
“No! No!” I scream, slamming my palms against the steering wheel. “Start, you motherfucker!”
I try it again, but it merely sounds half asleep, attempting to start.
I see a flash in the distance and realize it’s one of the boys coming from the woods.
“Please, God, if you fucking exist, start!” I turn the key, and the car starts. “Oh my fuck! Thank you. Thank you!”
I put the car into drive.
It fishtails along the gravel as I tear into the night, hollering in happiness. One of the boys however dives out from the woods in front of the car a few feet away, believing I’ll stop. He stands in front of the car, arms crossed, daring me to hit him.
The headlights blind him. I can’t see who he is.
But I don’t care.
This is a game of chicken…a game he’s about to lose.
I press my foot to the floor, and before he has a chance to dive out of the way, I hit him at full speed. He careens over the top of the car and lands in a twisted heap behind me.
Instantly, I slam on the brakes and peer into the rearview mirror. I see him dragging himself along the road.
This is where I face a decision.
I could drive away and report these bastards. I mean, I have their car.
But in this town, they’ll be given a slap over the wrist, and I’ll be deemed a slut for provoking them. I can hear it now.
“Why was she out there in the dead of night by herself? She was asking for it.”
These boys won’t be punished.
But I will.
Without thought, I put the car into reverse, and at full speed, I run him over, his body crunching under the tires. Adrenaline courses through me as I brake and drive forward, running him over again. I then put the car back in reverse and drive over him.
I do this repeatedly until I feel nothing under the tires.
He is squashed into the gravel, forever a memory in my mind of what he did.
The other two cowards are no doubt watching from the sidelines, too afraid to come out and end up a meat suit like their friend.
Once I’m satisfied, I take off into the night, leaving behind nothing but carnage.
Peering down, I see I have a full tank of gas. I also have my backpack filled with every dollar I’ve earned from working over the years. I don’t trust leaving it at home. I always keep it on me.
I don’t know why I did that, but now I do.
I was preparing myself for this.
The farther I drive, the freer I feel.
If I go back to my uncle and aunt’s, what do I tell them?
I’m wearing my torn and dirty work shirt, which is no longer pink. I have no shorts. Blood and piss stain my thighs. I have sticks in my hair, and my knees are grazed.
They’ll chastise me, say I must repent for my sins. They won’t be on my side. They never have been.
No, I can’t go back.
Since coming here, all I ever wanted was to leave, and now, I can.
My bike is on the side of the road, and there is an obviously dead, unrecognizable body on the road. The only witnesses will never tell a soul what happened. They’ll run like the cowards they are, putting as much distance between them and the crime scene.
What if I just…disappeared?
Fake my own death.
Seems fitting, really, because the old Hallie Holiday died in those woods.
Now, she has been reborn.
But into who?
Whoever the fuck she wants to be.