Chapter Eight: Plan of Attack

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I feel drunk. Not off of alcohol but pain. The ache of the heart will intoxicate you more than anything else.

I should check on Natalie I remind myself. I should have heard from her by now. I take out my phone and find a text from her. I thank myself for putting my phone in my skirt pocket and not my jacket. I want to go back for it but I can’t risk it. I do not want to run into Isaac again. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Went back to campus. Will see you later.

I sigh. Of course she did. I suspect that Harry probably told her he loved her, cherished her or some shit and she forgave him without a second thought. I really need to make her stronger. Why does love make people such idiots? If I was a science type I’d probably have an answer for that. And if I majored in poetry I’d have an eloquent metaphor that fifteen year old girls would read and feel reassured that it wasn’t their fault that they kept running back to their cheating, greasy haired boyfriend but loves.

I drive back to campus and walk quickly back to Jameson. Claire’s talk did scare me a little bit. I’m aware of the dangers of walking alone at night as a female even more so. Not that I wasn’t before. No girl can be totally blind to the dangers one faces simply because they don’t carry the Y chromosome.

I make it back to Jameson alive. Thank god. I take the lift to my floor and walk back to my room. I open the door. The light is off. Immediately I feel strange. Something is wrong. It’s the same feeling I had the day Tabitha broke her leg at school. I was sitting in sixth period English and I just felt wrong all of a sudden. Like a string inside me had been cut. This is the same thing. I flick on the light and that’s when I see it. Natalie curled up in the corner of the room her dress torn, my dress. The right sleeve has been ripped right off. She is shaking and crying, silently. I barely recognize her.

“Natalie?” I ask rushing over. “Natalie, what happened?”

She doesn’t answer, just continues crying and shaking, shrivelling in front of my very eyes. I crouch down in front of her and all of a sudden I don’t know what to do. I’m not experienced with pain, not of this kind. I avoid it at all costs. Something bad has happened to her and I don’t know how I’m going to help her through it.

“Natalie, tell me what happened. Did someone hurt you?”

She nods her head very quickly and repeatedly while crying, barely making a noise. It’s scary.

“Natalie was it Harry?”

She doesn’t answer at first. Just continues to cry. I look at her more closely. There’s a bite mark on her left breast and finger prints that look like the beginnings of bruises on her arms. A spot of blood stains my white dress. I will kill whoever did this to her, if not purely for ruining a beautiful dress. Even if it is a bit plain.

“He wanted to make it up to me. Promised… he promised he’d make up for… for the… the last couple weeks.” She manages to get out.

“Harry did?”

She nods.

“Did he attack you?”

“He raped me.” She cries.

I can’t help it, my jaw drops right open.

“He raped you? Harry did?” I stumble over my words.

“Yes.” She sobs, finally her cries have a voice. “He raped me.”

“That fucker.” I whisper. “I will mutilate him.”

“No, no please.” She begs, gasping a little. “You can’t go after him.”

“Like hell I’m not going after him.” I say standing up. “I’m going to fucking kill him. He raped you. We have to get you to a doctor. We have to take that prick down.”

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