The Girl Who Cried Rape

Chapter 1: Nightmares or Real Life?

Chapter 1: Nightmares or Real Life?

11:46pm

I awoke to a loud banging noise coming from downstairs. Sluggishly, I got out of bed and dragged myself into hall and down the stairs to check out the noise. I was alerted by a set of glowing eyes.

"Jesus! Annabelle, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

My cat walked in between my legs purring before scurrying off into the darkness, only a jingling bell heard in the distance. I walked back upstairs toward my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I slipped into bed and snuggled up with my covers. The next thing I knew, I felt a hand over my mouth and something weighing me down. I started to panic and push against a cold hard body, but I was overpowered and pushed back down. I could feel a warm breath on my neck.

 "Shhh...don't want to misbehave, my dear. Do exactly as I say and I won't hurt you. Deal?"

His hand still over my mouth and tears running down my face, I nodded my head. I was scared. I didn't know what I had just agreed to; all I knew was that I had to keep myself alive. I wanted to scream out for help, but I knew no one would hear my shrieking through the thick walls. Besides, no one was home but me. Both my parents were gone for the weekend for their 18th anniversary trip to Aspen. I was alone in our townhouse in New York City and this strange man somehow knew that.

It was dark, almost pitch black, in the room. The only light came from the moon just barely coming in the through my curtains, just enough light to reflect off the blade he held to my throat. He wore all black, a ski mask, leather gloves, and a hoodie. I didn't recognize his deep, yet soft voice, either. When I agreed not to scream, he removed his hand from my mouth.

I gulped and asked, "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? Please, let me go. I won't tell anyone."

I could tell he had a smirk on his face by the sound of his response.

"What is it you think I want from you, my dear?" he said as he put his hand up my nightgown, ripping off my underwear.

His knife still at my throat, I couldn't scream, or I knew what would happen next. Death. He cut my nightgown off and unbuttoned his pants. Unprepared for what was about to happen, I squeezed my eyes shut. All I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

For 3 hours, he tortured me and made me feel hopeless, like I was nothing. I wanted to fight back, but there was nothing I could do. I laid there, motionless and expressionless, just hoping he would give up interest and leave.

 When he was done, he picked me up, carried me to the bathroom, and gave me a bath. I suppose, to get rid of the evidence, in case I squealed to the police about our little "fun" we had. He then dressed me in a different nightgown and underwear and took the ones he had ripped off of me and stuffed them in his bag he had laying on the floor. He cleaned the place up, ridding the place of any evidence he'd been there.

Before he vanished he said "I had a great deal of fun with you. I can't wait to spend more time with you. You won't say anything will you? I wouldn't want to have to hurt anyone. Sweet Dreams, my dear." And waved goodbye has he left out my window onto the fire escape.

2:48am

I woke up screaming from my nightmare. Only it wasn't a nightmare; it was real. It was my recurring nightmare of the night I was raped, sparing no detail to what had happened to me. My screaming had woken my parents and they came running up stairs to make sure I was all right.

My mom sat down next to me, gently put her hand on my head and asked, "What's wrong?"

I proceed to say, "It was just a nightmare, mother. I'm fine."