Protection

Chapter 1.

I woke up from my slumber. The pillow was soft and giving under my head. My head.

"Shit," My head was throbbing. I tentatively tried to sit up. Bad idea. My whole body felt like I'd been on a few spin cycles before being thrown into a cement mixer, and then doing a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson. Shit really wasn't the word to describe how bad I felt.

I heard stirrings of movement from below coming up the stairs. I knew my mum would have been angry with me as I thought I'd got outrageously drunk then fallen over or something. The previous night was a complete blank to me.

The door creaped open slowly, like a cat when it first enters a new house. My mum's tear stained face appeared where the door had previously been. I could see as she walked towards me that every move she made was calculated and thought about. She approached me as if I was a wild animal she hoped to domesticise.

"Mum?" I said confused. Where was the shouting, the imminent anger?

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She ran to the bed and hugged me.

"Honey," She choked out disjointedly. She clearly didn't feel the awkwardness I did. I've never been comfortable in people's embraces. My mum always used to call me the Iron Lady when I was a little girl. I'd never really understood the Margaret Thatcher reference until I was about 13, when I was immediately offended.

"There's a policeman here to see you about- a- about what happened-la- last night." The words seemed to tumble from her mouth.

My blood ran cold. What did she mean last night? What had I done? Oh god.

"Last night?" I enquired.

Before my mum could reply there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

"PC Neville Boldforth. Are you Miss Rosa Haines?" asked the imposing man before me. He was very tall, slim but not thin. Lean muscles showed in his forearms, suggesting at further strength underneath the concealing vest and uniform.

"I.. yes, that's me." I stuttered out. The man's face was stern, his jet black hair was peppered with grey at the temples. His eyes were hard blue.

"I've come to ask you a few questions about what occurred last night. To start with, could you recall to me the events of what happened yesterday please?" The policeman's eyes never left mine. He had an intimidating countenance which caused to forget how to form proper sentences.

"I, well um, I'm really sorry but I don't remember a thing about last night. What happened?" It was almost irritating how everyone apart from me knew what happened.

The policeman's eyes softened. He looked to Mum and she nodded abruptly though her lips were pulled into a thin line and her eyes were over flowing with tears.

"Last night, Miss Haines, we heard several reports of you being, well, raped." His eyes were still sympathetic. My mum squeezed my hand, and suddenly everything came back to me.

The walk. The street lights. The man. The alleys. All of the alleys. Intertwining like a deadly rabbit's warren, filled with the dark deeds of the suburban underworld.

Everything and nothing. My breath caught in my throat. I was choking. I couldn't breathe, noone was letting me breathe. And then everything went black.

I was floating. Floating high above the world. I think I was in space or heaven or something. I know it was all blue. The clouds were in the shape of giraffes and zebra, and they galloped past me. One of the giraffe's looked angry. That giraffe hurt. It kept shaking me and slapping me.

My eyes opened. I was back.

"Mum, fuck off slapping me."

"I- I'm sorry darling- I just- I thought you were- well- I thought you needed waking up." My mum stuttered at me. What the fuck did she know. She'd lived a happy life. Now I was trapped. Trapped in this fucking awful mess. What if he comes back, I asked myself repeatedly as I sat alone in my room later on. What if he's outside there now. What if he's watching, waiting and planning. What if I try to fight him off, but somehow, it's not enough.

It's never enough.

It's never fucking enough is it.

And it never will be.