Dear Stan Marsh

Entry 32- July 27, 2019

The funniest thing about this whole situation was that I knew I was being lied to. Richard, another patient who I met the first week of being in the hospital, told me to go down to 300 halls dining room because someone needed me. It was too late to tell Richard to go with me. Too late to tell anyone to go with me. When I reached the dining room, Pete stood before me with his arms folded across his chest. He approached me and grabbed me by the wrist. I was dragged down the hall and forced to give smiles to anyone who passed us to act as though we were just conspiring an escape plan. We weren't.

Pete looked around before he opened the door to the basement, dragging us both down. We weren't supposed to go down there. I knew that much. No one would find us down here. I had a feeling. Before Pete dragged me down, I struggled against him, trying my hardest to break free. I managed to kick off my one shoe as something to be left behind. Something to find me. Maybe that would help. I could only pray it would. I didn't have much of a chance to do anything after that as Pete pulled me down the stairs and shut the door behind us.

Once we were in the basement, Pete pushed me down in anger. He grabbed me by the hair in a tight grip. His breath was hot against my ear as he spoke to me, "Words going around that you're claiming I raped you. That's a bunch of bullshit, Raven! I never raped you. You were begging me to fuck you! Don't you try to lie to me! I don't care if we're in a hospital, I'll be sure that you'll never be able to speak another lie-" He held a sharpened plastic utensil to my throat to scare me.

"Get off me!" I breathed out. "I'm not scared of you! Pete, you're sick. You're here because you're sick in the head like me! You can get help, Pete! You can! Please, let me go and we can get you help and everything will get better-"

His grip tightened as he yanked my head back further, the plastic blade close to my exposed jugular. My eyes closed while tears threatened to fall. I was going to die before I got to see Kyle one last time. This was it. I was done for. No amount of begging or reasoning I was doing was going to convince him.

Pete yanked me hard enough to roll me over, and he straddled me. His hands instantly grabbed my throat, dropping the plastic blade.

"I loved you! I fucking loved you and you left me for that stupid bastard! All I wanted was to make you happy and be happy with you! Was that too much to ask!? You're a piece of shit, Raven! I tried to show you love and you just called me a rapist and made everyone think I'm some monster! I hope you rot! You're a damn bastard yourself!" he shouted at me as tears flowed down my cheeks. I could see tears in his own eyes, as if every word he said was the truth in his mind. Pete seemed to really believe he had been doing the right thing, and it terrified me. I couldn't breathe. I had to do something. Reasoning wouldn't work. I'd have to act.

I reached out in search of the makeshift blade that Pete had dropped. He squeezed harder as my hand found the blade, clutching it tightly. I had one shot. One shot to get him away. One shot to get his hands off me and just to give me enough time to run upstairs and scream for help.

Clutching the blade, I brought it up in time to stab it into Pete's left arm.