A Long Way From Home

part 2

The wind was rushing past her wet face as her body laid in an inconvenient position. Her breathing pattern was slow and steady despite her fear and constant panic as she laid there letting the rushing wind take her breath away. She was cold, confused and in serious pain from her escape plan that failed miserably. As she was trying to comprehend what happened earlier, her body launched up from the surface and fell down hard hitting her head against a wall in the process. All she could see was darkness but she knew she wasn’t in the basement, at least not yet.

She tried to concentrate on her body, making her limbs move as instructed but her efforts were futile. Every now and then she would feel fur brush past various parts of her body. She thought her frightened mind was becoming overly sensitive and creating things in her path that didn’t exist. She continued thinking that until it licked the side of her face. Still struggling to open her eyes she knew it had to be a large dog with her. Each lick the dog gave her, stung as his tongue wiped over the many cuts placed all over her face. She knew better than to blame the dog for her pain; he was only being friendly with her. She appreciated it as the dog continued to comfort her for a long time.

 Her body lurched upward again but this time she landed face first on the unusual texture of the floor before sliding forward hitting her head on the wall. The back of her eyelids would light up slightly from time to time which assured her that her assumption was correct. She was in the bed of a truck that just stopped on its brakes and parked. She couldn’t hear her pursuers from the outside of the truck but she knew they were plotting against her. The yells and screams in her head came out as low mutters as her eyelid fluttered to become open again. Her head began to throb profusely as she felt the pain on her heel pulsate through her entire body. She couldn’t move, see or talk but she could feel. She felt dizzy, scared and anxious to know what was going to happen to her. As she heard the truck door open and close, she knew she was seconds away from finding out.

She desperately tried to force her eyelids open and right when she did, a man had let down the tailgate and was pulling her by her feet. Even though her eyes were open, her vision was still hazy. The colors of the scene in front of her were blurry so she couldn’t see his face but she could still see him. As he pulled her closer to the edge of the tailgate he whistled at the dog who obediently scurried off the truck and into the darkness. She tried to kick her legs to push him off her but all she seemed to be able to do was move her feet slightly. She had been drugged so whatever was about to happen, she couldn’t stop it.

 As he was pulling her down by her legs, he grabbed one of her limp arms as leverage to sling her over his shoulder. He was very strong and she was too helpless. Her vision started to make her headache worse as she strained to focus on her surroundings. That’s when she noticed the truck door open and close a second time. She tried to make out a visual of the second person but she didn’t see him. He was watching her though, she could feel it. Now there were two of them. She was outnumbered. She was going to die.

Her head bobbed up and down with each step he took, especially as he went up the stairs to enter the house. The dog rushed past him to get inside, nearly knocking him over but he didn’t seemed bothered by it. His focus was on the dead weight of the girl he was carrying. He had plans for her. She was already struggling to breath due to the drugs side effect but the smell of the living room made it worse. She felt as if her insides were slowly deteriorating when the need to throw up presented itself. She couldn’t resist the flowing of her stomach contents spilling out her mouth and onto the floor. Hearing the sound, the man turned around to see the mess on the floor and groaned. He hiked her up on his shoulder even more, digging his shoulder bone into her stomach. She was going to pay for that.

In a sick way, she was looking forward to her solitude in the dark depths of the basement. No matter how she viewed it, it was a safer environment than being over the shoulder of one of her deadly pursuers‘. However, the man carrying her didn’t take her to the basement. He was saving that for later. Instead, he took a turn for the worse and into one of the bedrooms that were crowded with junk. With one hand he knocked off the piles of mail and dirty dishes to the already filthy floor. Then he threw her mangled body on the wooden table. Her neck was aching from the angle of her head on the wall to her body lying flat on her back. Her limp arms were flopped open on each side of the table and her legs were slowly being forced to spread. She laid there with tears running down her face, the remainder of throw up around her mouth and muttered for him to stop.

The drugs and pain were forcing her in and out of consciousness but anytime she seemed knocked out he would smack her. It was obvious he wanted her eyes open and alert so she could watch the act but not his face. Anytime she tried to make out his face he would punish her by ramming himself even harder into her, digging his nails into her thighs or slamming her head back against the wall. It was more painful than her actions to remove the chain hours earlier. She tried to ease the pain by holding her breath each time he penetrated her but it didn’t work. Each thrust he made deeper into her knocked out every happy memory she had logged in her head, forever gone. She continued, with all her might, to try to scream at him but the drug that was in her system wouldn’t let her. Her mutters, cries and lungs gasping for air couldn’t be heard over his guttural cries. The noises of the house disappeared as she laid there, numb and lifeless.

She didn’t even bother to make another sound because she knew it wouldn’t be heard. No one was there to help her. Her body rocked with his every movement, feeling each tear he created, she was dead inside. Her silent cries were waterless again as she tried to make out his face through her blurry vision. She wanted to know his face, to know the face of her rapist and possibly her killer. Seconds after watching him torture her insides he noticed her watching him so he let go of one of her bloody thighs and punched her, slinging her head towards the door. Just then, the second man walked into the room and stood there, shocked at what he was witnessing.

 He was younger and shorter than the man who wasn’t finished destroying her innocence. The younger man looked at her face: her bloody lip, swollen cheek and possibly a blackened eye. Her face was too dirty and bloody to tell if those were all that were present. She looked at him and could actually see him. The drugs must have finally been wearing off so she mouthed for him to help her as tears streamed down her face. He just stared at her, watery eyed and made strong eye contact that made her believe he was going to help her. Hope was slowly starting to swim through her body. Then he wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve as he turned his attention to the older man who had just finished taking her against her will. As she turned her head to the older man, all she noticed was his hair before his fist knocked her out cold, making her body slide off the table and onto the floor.