Falling Away With You

CHAPTER 3: I WISH YOU PEACE

Song: Eagles - I Wish You Peace

            My head felt like it was being picked at by thousands of needles all at once. I'm so not going drinking, again! I didn't recall much of what was happening last night. I remembered being in a loo, and when I went out of there, I bumped into some stranger. That person attempted sexual assault on me and I couldn't break free from his arms―incapable of fighting him. Too much alcohol would surely make me die in the future―probably not physically, but mentally.

I strove to open my eyes which felt like they were being glued by a tractor of Loctite. My arms and legs were numb―as if they were being desensitised by hundreds of syringes of anaesthetic. I must have drunk too much alcohol last night. Even my bed felt firmer yet softer at the same time. Incapable of recalling buying a new bed, my thoughts wondered how could it feel this heavenly? I didn't want to wake up and face my reality. Sleeping all day seemed like a tremendously good idea that my mind had ever come up with, but my inside was protesting, yelling, and screaming at me to get the hell up.

Although my skin felt comfortable with this oh-so-damn-soft bed, my brain sensed an unfamiliar surrounding in this room. I squinted at the stark brightness piercing intensely into my dark blue orbs―immediately closing my eyes at the shocking harshness of the light and tried to blink a few times before fully opening them. I looked around the room slowly with my slightly blurry sight and forced my back to get up off the softness of this bed.

This isn't my room. The first thing that crossed my mind.

Where am I? The first question that I asked myself.

I need to get out of here! The first idea that my brain suggested.

I collected whatever strength left inside even though my limbs were failing miserably. I reached out for the quilt and took it off of my body―hollering mentally at the foreign clothing that was covering my form. Whose shirt is this? I smacked myself for not being careful when I was awfully drunk and let this terrible occurrence befell me. Adrenaline rushed through my blood from the panic state I was in―instantly making me jumped off the bed. Just as I was about to look for my torn apart sweater dress and purse, the door opened out of the blue―making me gasped at the realisation. I was solely wearing an oversized white shirt!

"Who are you?" we inquired simultaneously, raising one eyebrow in confusion.

The man strutted over to my spot and gave me numerous once-over. "Who are you?" he asked me once again, this time his tone was suspiciously calm.

I cleared my throat and tried to look at him in the eye. This man had brown eyes, short stylish brown hair, and his height was around 1.85 metres. "Woman, are you deaf?"

His steps were getting closer―leaving me stilled and dumbfounded at my spot. I didn't know what to respond. I didn't even know why and how I ended up here. The man who tried to rape me brought me to the club's private room, not some luxurious penthouse.

"Leo, I've warned you not to barge in!" A manly deep voice shouted from a distance. I could hear his footsteps becoming clearer and louder. How in the world did I wound up in a flat owned by these lads? I shook such thought and focused on the young man before me. He had not made any more moves since another stern male voice was heard.

"Stay," the man said and stormed off the room―closing the door.

As soon as he was outside, I could not hear any more voices. I was left alone in this room without knowing what had happened to me―without receiving an explanation on how I could get here and who brought me out of the bar. This was partly Celine's mistake. If she didn't insist, I would not have come to that damn Reids Billericay. Now, I felt like losing my precious part of me, not to mention in such an unpleasing way. I had lost my virginity to some stranger worse than Chase Armstrong himself. The thought that that man came to save me and beat Chase to a pulp was utterly mistaken. All the guys were the same. My sight glanced around the room in a swift motion, searching for my dress and purse. I had to call Celine and asked her to pick me up. After a few minutes of nothingness, my purse and torn dress were seen lying on an armchair near the big gorgeous looking window. I scurried over there, picked up my things, then got back to my previous spot. I placed the dress on the bed, but as I was about to fish my phone out of the purse, a knock snapped me from my attempt.