Protection

Prologue

My chest heaved up and down as my breathing rapidly increased. The sheer effort of keeping a cool exterior was affecting how quickly I could walk, thus causing my legs to feel like lead as I tried to maintain my stature.

The footsteps behind me carried on with their relentless pounding of the slick, grey footpath. It was as if they were the drum beat to signify my execution, the final sounds to penetrate my insignificant mind. At seventeen years old, it wasn't fair that my mind was filled with these thoughts. I should have been thinking of boys, parties, shopping, just anything!

How could I have though, when every night someone followed me to the steps of my house, then observed as I entered. Was it not right of me to be suspicious? Perhaps, on reflection I should have acted on those suspicions. Perhaps had I acted on those suspicions I wouldn't be in the position I'm in today. And yet, had none of this happened I wouldn't have met Rob. I wouldn't have survived. I wouldn't have had my eyes opened to what real life is like.

As my silent pursuer turned a corner behind me I felt a tension release itself from my chest. I was once again safe in my own presence, free to walk home finally.

I carried on walking a while, the weight of my backpack and it's constant motion on my back bringing me an unusual wave of comfort. After all, I was simply a plain, fade-into-the-background school girl. Nobody would care too much for me.

I rounded another corner to blocks away from my house. It was dark now, and the streetlights glowed dimly as if they didn't particularly care for the job they were assigned to do. I passed an alley, two alleys. I remember there was a lot of alleys.

A man was stood on the street corner, just out of the light of the street lamp. He was wearing a tracksuit and a quilted jacket, his hair was down to his neck and unclean. He seemed to me at the time as an unclean sort of a man.

He looked up, obviously acknowledging my sudden presence.

"A beautiful little thing like you shouldn't be walking around on your own at this time of night, don't know who'll get ya." He grinned showing a row of yellow teeth. He was unshaven and mucky looking.

I ignored him- dirty old men will be dirty old men.

When he saw my rejection he frowned and started to move towards me.

"Don't you walk away from me you little whore." He snarled.

My breath caught in my throat. He was following me. The awful man was running after me. My legs started beneath me, I ran like I'd never ran before. But somehow, it wasn't enough.

A sharp pull guided me into the nearest alley, deep into the dark abyss I had always chosen to avoid.

He pushed me against the wall, leaving a prominent egg on the back of my head. His breath stank of rancid food as he started undressing me, always keeping me pinned against the wall. I tried to scream, I tried to protest, I gave my bloody all when I tried to kick him.

But somehow, again, it wasn't enough. He'd nearly fully undressed me- I was stood there in my bra and pants. He whispered to me how he followed me every night, watching, waiting and planning.

What happened after that is too disgusting for me to possibly write.

I was left on the floor, a crumpled mess of blood and emotions. I don't know how long I laid there for. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours.

When the angel came I was numb. I couldn't speak, I couldn't feel. I didn't think I would be able to go on.

I did though, and this is the story of how I did. This is the story of my time with Robert Blackley.