Who He Is

five

Jessa

I have never been so afraid in my life.

When that disgrace of a man had his dirt crusted hands on me I thought for sure that was it, especially seeing that J might have been knocked out cold.

My heart was beating so hard and fast that I swore I could have died right there, and when his hands squeezed my butt and began to tug at my pants I knew what was about to happen. And honestly, I would rather have welcomed death with open arms than let him have his way with me.

The fear was the worst of it all. It was like a flame being ignited deep in the pit of my stomach. It was like it ran through each individual vein and nerve in my body, burning everything in sight until something could stop it. Or until J smashed a brick into the mans face, which stopped at least one fear.

I shook my head at the constant images of blood spurting at J's face with each drop of the brick. It was only about ten minutes after it happened, but I couldn't shake the haunting memory that seemed to be following me.

J washed the blood off of his face with water from a bucket that he kept behind a bush. The blood was cleaned from his skin, but his shirt was still soaked in it.

"I can't walk around in this." He whispered in a shaky tone, coughing afterward in attempt to conceal his noticeable fear.

I turned my head to the left and then to the right. There was no one in sight because of the rain that still had yet to cease. I jumped slightly as a bolt of lighting erupted in the dark and cloudy sky, confirming that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"I think you should take it off." I replied, completely serious. He couldn't just walk around in a bloody shirt. Besides, I've seen guys around here walk around shirtless all the time when volunteering. Usually it wasn't pouring down rain, but I couldn't think of any other option.

He nodded in reply, realizing it was his only choice.

When he pulled the soaked shirt above his head, I instantly choked on my breath. He had bruises all down his ribs and countless cuts sprawling across his chest. He was skinny, so skinny that you could tell he hasn't eaten a good meal in who knows how long.

I bit my lip to keep from crying. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen, and he was only two years older than me. In another life, I surely could have been in his place.

"Remember what I said about pity?" He spat, crossing his arms to try and conceal himself as much as he could.

I blinked away the tears and grabbed the now rain soaked shirt from his hands.

"Follow me," I croaked, swallowing my fear before turning on my heels to make way across the street to what looked like a restaurant of some sort. It looked rundown, almost abandoned. I tossed the shirt into the trash can that stood in front of the barred doors. J was close behind me, arms still crossed and body visibly shivering.

"Let's get to my car." I told him before putting a hand on his bare back. He flinched in response and walked past me, leaving my hand to fall back to my side.

"We should hurry." J advised, walking faster even though he had no clue where he was going.

"It's right there," I spoke up in relief when I saw my car in the same place I left it. I dug in my purse to retrieve my keys before unlocking it with one click.