Only the "Strong" Survive | Paul Lahote |

*chapter three*

It'd been about 5 days since I left my parents house that night, I had paid for a weeks stay at the motel. In that time, no calls or texts from either of them - it was as though they hadn't noticed I left or they didn't care. It was a relief.
During the mornings, I spent my time figuring out my next move and during the afternoons/evenings I was working. I had narrowed my options down to a few different things, Spokane was an option if I wanted to stay in Washington but be a safe distance away. I thought about driving south to California, Sacramento or L.A. but that didn't feel right for me. The third option was Oregon, similar weather and people but again, it had the appeal of being away from what I was trying to get away from.

"Table three, just left sweetie, once it's cleaned you can go home," my manager, Nancy, said to me looking at me with sorrow filled eyes.

Nancy had become like a mom to me in the 2 years I had been working here, when I came in with head stitched and bandaged she knew why. I couldn't bring myself to tell her the whole story, but she was the only person who had any inclination of what my real life was like. She'd offered for me to come live with her multiple times, but Nancy was a single mother raising three boys, and I felt guilty for even thinking about accepting the offer.
She was great manager though, patient with me on bad days, understood my PTSD triggers, defended me against asshole customers. We both had been given the worst shift by the owner, 2:30-11pm, but she made it better.
I nodded and pulled my medium length brown hair back into a low bun, I had kept it down through my shift to try and hide the bandage. But that didn't work, and I had been asked multiple times what had happened by customers and the other waitresses. My poor excuse, I tripped and hit a coffee cup that had been on the table infront of me and it broke. There are two reasons everyone believed it, one - I've gotten really good at lying with a smile and a laugh, two - I'm a clumsy person, honestly, it only makes sense I'd cause a real injury to myself eventually.

The table was clean so I clocked out and wave to Nancy as I pushed the door open, "Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight honey! Be safe."

From the dinner to my house was a 15 minute drive, from the dinner to my motel was about 30 minutes. So after stopping for gas, it was almost midnight when I pulled into the pakring lot. It was chilly tonight, especially for it only being September. Winter was going to hit Washington early this year, which I needed to prepare for.
I stepped out of the car and leaned over the seat to grab my wallet, I heard footsteps behind me but it wasn't abnormal for other guests to be walking to or from their cars when I got back from work.

"Turn around, put your hands up," I heard a male voice say aggressively. I didn't have time to address the situation or grab my pepper spray so I did as he said.

He stood about 6 feet tall, maybe taller. Compared to me, who only stands about 5 feet and 7 inches, I had to look up in order to make eye contact. The leather of his jacket reflected the little bit of light coming from different motel rooms, but not enough to see his face. He had to have had on dark clothing because all I could see was the outline of his body, nothing more.

"I'll give you my money, whatever you want. Please don't hurt me," I said, trying to sound confident so maybe he would run.

The man chuckled, and that's when I noticed the blade in his left hand. I felt myself tense, and my heart start pounding. My eyes darted, debating whether I could run the distance to the office before he caught me. There was no other option so I tried. My feet bounced off the rocks, and my arms swung like crazy, I could feel the wind in my hair - I was running for my life just to get inside and away from him.

But I couldn't run fast enough. Two arms wrapped around me, picking me up off off the ground, when I started to scream but that was cut off by a hand sliding over my mouth. He threw me on the ground, I could only see bushes and trees meaning he had carried me into the woods. The man ruffled around, taking off the ribbon around my waist from my uniform and tying it around my mouth. I was faced down, I could feel him over me, the rope he was using to tie my hands together, his knees on the insides of my thighs keeping them apart.

"I've been watching you for days," he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to enjoy this."

Cold fingertips rubbed against the inside of my thigh, and continued upward. Lips touched my neck and went lower down my back as the rest of my uniform unzipped, I knew what was happening. I knew I couldn't stop it, but I tried to fight. The man became more aggressive the more I tried to fight against him. His hand slithering into my hair and lifting it up, before slamming it down was the last thing I remember.