I'll keep you safe

Chapter 3

She heard the office door close, his heavy footsteps fading away down the corridor.

Rachel lay on the floor, motionless, her vision blurring in and out of focus. Her body was tired and overwhelmed with pain, desperate to give into exhaustion, to slip into unconsciousness.

No, she couldn't.

She couldn't stay in here. No one could find out what had happened. She had to get home.

She pushed herself onto her knees, pulling herself awkwardly to her feet. Slowly, she grabbed her coat from the chair, wrapping it around herself to cover her ripped blouse. She left the box of her things, taking only her handbag and keys.

She moved slowly, grabbing onto anything stable to support her, clutching her injured wrist, which was bleeding profusely, tightly to her chest. Her body wanted to give up, but she wouldn't let it. She had to get home.

When she finally reached her car, she was seeing double. The world was spinning and her legs felt like jelly. She clambered into the driver's seat, crying out in pain as her back made contact with the seat. She locked the doors immediately, allowing herself to sit for a minute. She took deep breaths, each one causing a sharp pain to shoot through her lungs and rib cage.

As soon as her vision improved, she started the car, driving away towards home as fast as she could.

She drove down the empty streets, her mind and heart racing, her head pounding. Driving with one arm was a difficult task, the car swerved dangerously every time she turned a corner. But she had no choice.

Finally, she pulled into her driveway, climbing carefully out of the car.

She unlocked the front door shakily, stepping inside as soon as it opened, slamming it behind her and turning the lock tightly. She took a deep breath, wincing at the severe pain in her ribs and back.

Her body was trembling. She felt dirty from the inside, out. Even though he was gone, she could still feel his presence surrounding her. She could smell him on her clothes, felt his vice-like grip on her wrists and arms, the weight of his legs on hers. She could see his eyes drilling into her own.

She desperately wanted a shower to feel clean, to wash his scent off her, to wash the memory of the evening away. The smell of him made her feel sick.

Slowly, Rachel made her way to the stairs, each step she took causing immense pain to shoot through her body. She cried out, the pain bringing her to her knees. But she didn't stop moving. She crawled the rest of the way up the stairs and into her bathroom.

Her vision blurred again as she sat on the tiled floor, shifting in and out of focus. The room was spinning violently, worse than before.

Her eyes focussed on the blood that was beginning to stain the carpet and tiles. It was only then that she had the courage to look at her wrist.

It was worse than she thought. Blood continued to flow from it and the metal stuck out at an angle. She could see the bone. Rachel had never been bothered by blood in the past, but the sight of her wrist made her feel sick. She vomited into the toilet, heaving and retching uncontrollably.

She curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering and moaning in pain. Her body was exhausted. She needed sleep. The pain was unbearable, but the screams attempting to escape from her throat were silent.

She closed her eyes, and the world went black.