In My Mind

Chapter 1

"Another round!" Miss Platinum yells, throwing her hands into the air. I roll my eyes, grabbing the watered down vodka and pour three more shots. Yet another 21st birthday. I watch the platinum blonde twirl and stumble around the bar with a feeling of pity and envy. Pity because these girls have no idea what the real world is made of, and when they realize that it's not all fun and games, it'll be too late. Envy because I wish that I got the chance to act like a reckless child, to have fun without having to worry about tomorrow or the consequences, but that's a privilege I'll never get.

"It's really packed tonight," yells Jacob, over the roaring blast of pop music.

Jacob is one of the reasons I'm not falling to pieces over my shit life. Jacob is the only one that knows about my real life. That I, Chloe Andrews, am a 17 year old high school student who lives with her grandmother who can't even remember who she is. It's been tough these past few years. Gran was diagnosed with dementia when I was 14, three years after Paw died. I thought it would all work out, that it was like any other sickness, a few days and back to normal. But one day Gran was there and the next she wasn't. Ever since then, I've been on my own, trying to take care of Gran while also dealing with school and the bills.
I started looking for jobs, but no one wanted to hire an irresponsible 14 year old child. So, I did what I had to do. I went to Tyler, the town dealer, got a fake ID and it's been history ever since.

Thanks to puberty, I got the bartending gig about a year later, but Jacob instantly knew I wasn't who I said. However, after I told him my story, he's become my backbone. He's my brother and he'd do anything for me.

"I know. It's crazy for a Thursday night," I say while making another drink. Usually Thursdays are pretty calm, but with Miss Platinum and her birthday, the place is packed.

I turn and look at Jacob, "I don't know what I'm going to do. I have a huge final tomorrow, and I thought I would get to study here but that's obviously not gonna happen."

"Don't worry about it! I'll hold it down. Go take a break and get to studying. We can't have a high school dropout on our hands."

I roll my eyes, smiling. I turn and grab my bag and head out for some fresh air. I love my job, but the combination of alcohol and sweat gets old real quick.

I walk outside to the sitting area behind the bar. It's a bit chilly out, so I unzip my bag and pull out my black thrift store jacket. It's not in the best shape, but it does its job. I go ahead and grab my organic chemistry book when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Well hello there pretty lady."

I look up to find a tall, scrawny man leering over me. I can smell the alcohol on his breath and see the signs of heavy drug use all over him. His tattered grey T-shirt and dirt covered blue jeans give off the apparent homeless vibe. My eyes follow his arms, noticing track marks everywhere. I look up to his face, spotting a sly smile that shows his horrendous yellow and spotted teeth.

I gulp and pull back far enough so that he's not touching me. I turn, picking up my things to head back inside, but before I get too far I feel the man pulling on my arm. I stand in hopes of putting him off balance, but he just grips tighter and pulls me closer to him. He laughs, spit flying from his mouth onto my face. I push back against him but his hold on me just tightens.

Oh no, this can't happen.

I open my mouth to yell, but he uses his free hand to grab me around the throat and forces me into the concrete wall of the bar. For someone so tiny, this man is strong. I try to cry out, but he tightens his hold on my throat, cutting off any sound.

"Now, I haven't seen you around here before," he whispers, eyeing me up and down. He pushes my jacket back, staring down at my uniform.

I always liked the clothes Dean, my boss, made me wear. The tight fitting, low cut crop top and booty shorts always brought good tips, but tonight I hated it.

The man slowly brings his hand to my stomach, tracing his finger down to my shorts. I clench my eyes. This can't be happening. I scream beneath his hand, but it only comes out a small muffled plea.

Someone will be coming out soon, they have to. I feel the button on my shirt pop open. Tears cover my face as realization sets in. No one's coming. We had a full house tonight, all hands on deck. I'm all alone. This is how I'm going to lose my virginity, to some drugged up rapist outside my place of work.

A tingling sensation courses through my body, likely from the shock of what's happening to me. I'm shivering but my body warms as the sensation moves down my arms and landing in my hands.

I open my eyes just enough to see this pervert trying to undo his belt. He loses his grip a little on my neck, distracted by his belt, and I take the opportunity to scream as loud as I can.
His head pops up from looking at his pants, his eyes widening. A look of annoyance flashes across his face.

"You stupid bitch," he spits, slamming my head back against the concrete wall. My head instantly throbs and my eyes close from the pain. He tosses me to the ground, my body falling with a thud.

"You think one scream is going to turn me off? Little girl that just makes it so much better."
He sneers, walking slowly towards me. I try to move away, but I can't seem to get my body working. He leans down, grabbing my ankle, and drags me back towards him. I can feel the pavement cutting open the skin on my legs as I kick and scream, but nothing helps. He lowers himself down on top of me. I struggle, hoping for something, or someone, to hear my cries. He holds my arms together over my head; I continue crying as I kick my legs out in hopes of hitting this monster. He continues to grin, the smug look of victory all over his face. He knows no one is coming.

He knows no one can hear us.

He knows that he'll win.

His hands roam my body and I can feel his arousal against my thigh. Vomit crawls up my throat as the sensation in my hands grows. My body sweats and the heat engulfs my body. My hands begin to throb, the pain and heat making me think that they might even be of fire. I'm hit with a wave of nausea as my body temperature steadily rises.

I keep calling out for someone to come, but the loud pumping music from inside the bar is too loud, canceling out my cries. His hands come back around my neck, squeezing so hard I can feel myself falling.

Just when I think I can't handle it anymore, that swell of power finally leaves my body in a huge rush, taking the little bit of oxygen I had left with it. My body instantly runs cold from the loss of whatever was inside me. The sound of glass shattering meets my ears followed by darkness engulfing the alleyway.  The smell of burnt wires and mercury hit my nose as pieces of broken glasses clatter around us.

He lets go with one hand, pulling down my short, unfazed by the commotion going on around us. My head pounds from the lack of oxygen; I close my eyes hoping to pass out so that I don't have to be awake when this man invades my body. I clench my hands in defeat when something sharp grazes my left hand. I wince as I feel the piece of glass slice through the skin on my hands.

I block out the man on top of me, who is getting closer and closer to reaching his destination between my thighs, as I wrap my fingers about the deadly piece of glass.  With all the strength I have left in me, I raise my arm and shove the glass into the open space between the arm currently choking me to death. Lodged into his carotid artery, the glass slightly moves as Mr. Rapist realizes what happened. I watch as his throat moves up and down. He swallows down the spit in his mouth and the glass moves with his action. His eyes widen as he stares down at me.

In his last attempt to push me over the edge, Mr. Rapist uses the hands that are wrapped around my tender neck and brings my face close to his. Eyes roam over my face and he brings himself even closer to him as our noses meet.

"They're coming," he gurgles out. A line of blood leaves his mouth trailing down his chin and falling down onto me. Before giving me anytime to process his words, he forces my head downwards. Concrete meets my head and stars float in front of me.

I feel myself losing consciousness. I welcome it, when I feel a weight lifted off of me. The hand around my throat disappears. My mouth opens, sucking in all the air it can, causing me to cough hysterically.

I open my eyes, looking up at the real stars in the sky above me. How can something so beautiful look over something so ugly. My body starts to go in shock, trying to shut itself down when someone clouds my vision. I lose consciousness with only a pair of bright green eyes on my mind.