Raped (Editing)

Chapter 2

 Numbly, she came too. The pre-dawn light was breaking through the darkness, chasing away the shadows but not the cold. Katrina sat up slowly, hand to her head, trying to fight away the wave of dizziness that threatened to pull her back under. Her sore, frozen and battered body protested every move. Cautiously, she looked around, afraid that Randall was hiding in the bushes somewhere just waiting for her to come to.

Once she was certain that he was truly gone, she tried to stand. She cried out in pain as her insides throbbed. There was drying blood running down her thighs. Tears squeezed out of her eyes, rolled down her cheek and stung her split bottom lip. Finally on her feet, she couldn't find her underwear. Not that they'd be any use now.

Every fiber of her being shook as she tried to fix her shirt with stiff, frozen fingers, which had been torn open. I don't remember him doing that. she thought numbly as she settled for just tying the tattered edges as best she could over her exposed chest. Her bra hung in ruins and she stuck the loose ends into what remained of her top. She ignored the sticky substance making her shirt cling to her body, afraid to acknowledge what it was. Her only conclusion was that he hadn't finished when she blacked out. She finished fixing her clothes as much as she could so she could finish her walk home with some semblance of dignity.

Even with the sun peaking over the horizon, it was still dark in the pre-dawn hours. She hoped she didn't run into any early morning joggers. She shied away from traffic and any other signs of life as she precariously made her way home. It seemed as if she'd started this journey a lifetime ago. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she tried to find the right key and she tried to suppress the sobs that were threatening to escape. Miraculously, her key chain had managed to stay in her pocket.

She almost wept with relief as the key slid home and the door knob turned in her hand. She quickly closed and locked the door behind her, leaning her back against it. Kat took deep breaths trying to calm her frayed nerves. The last thing she wanted to do was have a break down where her sister could find her.

She took off her shoes and quietly tip toed up the stairs and into the bathroom she shared with her sister. Once inside she locked the door and began painful process of stripping out of her useless clothes. As she removed her top she noticed bite marks on her right breast. That certainly hadn't been there before. She closed her eyes and leaned against the sink to fight off the wave of nausea that started to rise up. She didn't want to think about the horrible things he might have continued to do to her once she was knocked out. She turned the shower on slightly hotter than she could stand.

She looked in the mirror above the sink as the steam quickly began to fill the small room. Aside from the split of her bottom lip in the left corner of her mouth and some stray twigs in her hair, she looked fine. She could easily cover that with make up. It was the bite marks and the bruises and scrapes on her body that she would have to work to conceal. Her nails were a bit worse for wear but she could hide that too with a pair of gloves. Nobody will be able to tell. She thought with some relief as she stepped into the shower.

She jumped back as the scorching water cascaded over her skin, swiftly turning it red. She grabbed her wash cloth and soap, rubbing them to a thick lather before she began to scrub her aching body over and over again, ignoring the sting the soap caused, until her skin was almost raw. She didn't understand why she couldn't get clean. It felt like a thick coating of grime wouldn't come off, like she was just smearing it in deeper, like a grease stain. She began sobbing hysterically, finally relinquishing control. She threw the bar of soap to the floor in anger. How could she let this happen? How could she be so weak? She should have fought harder, screamed louder!

Now it felt like no amount of scrubbing in the world would get the feel of him off of her skin. She could still feel his hot breath on her cheek, smell its stench in her nose and she gagged. She slid down the slick tiles to the floor using the wash cloth to cover her sobs as she held it to her mouth. She wasn't aware of how long she sat there, but when she was able to stand to get out, the water was cool and her skin was wrinkly.

She gently wrapped a huge terry cloth towel around her tender flesh before she commenced with getting rid of her destroyed clothing. She retrieved a dark plastic bag from the kitchen and wrapped her clothes in it. She threw the bag away with the rest of the trash, praying that no one found it and questioned its contents. She returned to her room as quickly as her sore body would allow and dressed in her most comfortable pajamas before crawling between her sheets.

It was there in her bed, door locked, curtains closed, that she finally gave in completely to the anguish burning in her soul.