Chapter 3 Laynie
4 Years Earlier
“Charlie, I am so tired of hearing about this girl. Would you just introduce us already?” Charlie was pacing the apartment, waiting for her date. She was nervous. Her black hair, curled at the end, was bouncing up and down as she walked. “I will, Laynie, but I am trying to figure out how this hot ass super model is into me first. Then, I’ll introduce her to my weirdo friend. One red flag at a time.”
“Hey!” I chucked a throw pillow at her from across the room. “Weird is the new cool.” I gave her a goofy smile with my lip curled above my top teeth.
We’ve spent 6 months in NYC so far. I found a job as a server at a bar close to the apartment. It turned out to be more fun than I expected and we made a bunch of new friends. It was strange to not be in school or working towards goals, but living in the moment was peaceful. Charlie still paid for most of our stuff and told me to keep my money for things I need. I don’t deserve her, honestly. I loved every moment of my time here, even if I was leading a relatively simple life. It was amazing to walk around the streets and watch all the people, knowing that a small country girl like me made it to the big city.
I spent most of my free time reading. Despite being a hopeless romantic, I never dated anyone. I had never even been with a man. Well, neither had Charlie, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t had sex, her words. My parents were strict growing up and dating just wasn’t in my realm of possibilities for me or my brother.
“Well, bring this weirdo back some dinner or something, since you’re leaving me alone tonight. It’s the least you could do.”
“Fine,” she scoffed as she walked away.
“Don’t get murdered!” I called, as she was already out the door.
I heard her yell something back, but couldn’t make it out. I smiled as I sat there, thinking about what she could have said.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. Thinking she had forgotten something, I jumped up and opened the door. “Miss me alrea-”
I stopped when I saw it wasn’t Charlie at the door. “Oh, sorry, can I help you?” I gripped the edge of the door with my fingers until they turned white.
A lean, dark man stood in front of me. He smiled in a way that made my fight-or-flight mode kick in.
“I was looking for someone. I thought they lived here. So, I must have the wrong…door.” His tone chilled my bones.
I backed up. “Yeah, no problem.” I tried to sound confident, but my voice cracked. I went to close the door, but he stopped it with his arm. “What are you doing?”
With a predatory gaze, he said, “I’ve been watching you. You work at that bar down the street. You’re always teasing the men and being a fucking whore.”
“You need to leave.” I tried to shut the door but didn’t have enough strength. He pushed himself into the apartment and I couldn’t stop him. I started screaming.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” He lunged for me and grabbed me by the back of my head and curled his hands in my hair. “Show me what a good little whore you are,” he whispered in my ear.
I fought against him as he backed me up to the couch. I pushed at his chest and scratched his face.
“Motherfucker.” he cried out. After that, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at my head.
Tears sprang from my eyes. “Please, I’m sorry.” I don’t even know what I was apologizing for.
“Take off your pants.” He pushed the gun deeper into my temple. I reluctantly removed my bottoms and stood there half naked, choking back sobs. I watched him as he freed himself through his zipper, and I begged again for him to stop.
He only laughed as he climbed on top of me. I never thought this would be my first time. I imagined it so differently. That it would be my boyfriend and we would be in love and he would be sweet and gentle. This was none of those things.
He grunted into me, and the pain made me gasp. This is not what I thought this would feel like. It hurt. It hurt badly. His grunts were disgusting and loud and I remained motionless, in shock.
When he was done, I winced as he pulled out of me and I could feel the semen drip down my thighs. I closed my legs and started sobbing again.
He walked out of the apartment, sneering, “This will be the first of many baby girl.”
I paced my bedroom for an hour, trying to decide what to do, and the idea of telling someone this happened to me was too embarrassing. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Charlie. Trying to cleanse myself, I took a shower to wash everything off. The shame, the guilt, the stupidity. I pretended to be asleep when she came home. I heard her date giggling from the living room while I laid in the loft upstairs. She called out to me, but I ignored her. I hoped she would just assume I was asleep.
“I got you some foooooood,” she sang like a canary.
I felt the tears soaking my pillow beneath me and I gulped back a sob. It wouldn’t stop playing in my head over and over. How could this have happened to me? All I did was answer my door. Why did I answer the door?
I snapped back to reality when I heard another knock at the door. I sucked in my breath. Fear kept me strapped to my bed, preventing me from warning Charlie.
When the door opened, I heard his voice again. Instead of running to save Charlie and her date, I cowardly hid under my bed. I couldn’t think and I felt immobilized by self preservation. I crawled under the bed and put my hand over my mouth. When did I become such a coward? I heard Charlie’s screams, and the tears flowed again. “No, no,” I whispered to myself.
Then it was silent. Eerily silent. Until I heard footsteps walking around my bed. Black boots squeaking with every step. I kept my hand over my mouth and my breathing was slow. Then the squeaking stopped. I slowly opened my eyes to see where he was and I saw his face smiling at me as he knelt down under the bed.