Are you mine?

Chapter 50

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains references to assault which some readers may find upsetting. Reader discretion is adviced.

***

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

I know very little portuguese, but by the context I can guess that the incoherent string of words coming out of this man's mouth mean 'You're in deep trouble.'

He takes a step back, and motions with his hand for me to stand up. Sighing, knowing I've been caught red handed, I do as he says. Blood rushes to my head due to the abrupt posture change, which almost prompts me to pass out. Thankfully, the security guard notices and is nice enough to help me stand steady.  Once I've regained my footing, he gestures towards a door on the far end and instructs me to accompany him in that direction, which I do.

At this point my head is spinning and I feel like throwing up, partly because of the amount of alcohol in my system, partly because of hitting my head on the ground, and partly because of the nerves stirring my stomach.

The guard opens the steel door for me, and as we step inside, I find myself in a small and poorly lit hallway lined with lockers, which seems to be a staff-only accessed area. My palms sweat as we walk further down, thinking about how I'm going to explain to my parents that I'm being sent back home early because I got caught by security trying to sneak into a boy's room in the middle of the night.

We turn the corner into another, longer but more properly illuminated hallway, a wooden door visible at the end, which I'm guessing is our destination. The only bright side I can find in this situation is that the guard isn't intimidating at all, in fact he seems almost friendly. The man  appears to be in his late forties. Short, at least shorter than me, a little on the chubbier side, with dark hair and a military buzz cut. I can only understand a handful of words he's saying, but he tries his best to make conversation with me. I only nod my head and say a breathy "Yeah," as I catch the word 'namorado', and gather that he's asking if I was sneaking into my boyfriend's room. He blabbers on, saying something about young love as I stop to rest against a wall. The sound of his voice fading out, I feel gravity increase on my body as I'm on the verge of passing out.

He notices I'm staying behind, and comes back to carefully grab me by the wrist, making sure I'm okay before placing his hand behind my shoulder and escorting me further down the hall. A few feet before reaching the door my vision starts getting blurry, my eyes getting heavier and my body going limp.

I don't know how long I stay unconscious for, but when I come back to, I feel the concrete of the wall against my back, and I can tell I'm sitting on the floor as the cold ceramic tiles press against my thighs. I feel a chill on my stomach and notice the hem of my dress has ridden all the way up to my belly button. A wave of hot air brushes my face, and I see the blurry image of the guard's face inches away from mine. I freeze as I feel a hand slip between my legs.

My breathing speeds up as panic sets in, and for the first time in my life, my fight or flight response is put to the test. I get an adrenaline rush, my own pulse loud in my ears, and I finally regain control of my body, along with mobility. Kicking my legs and flailing my arms around erratically, I manage to scare the man off me. He looks like he was counting on me to remain unconscious for a longer period of time, so taking advantage of his stunned state, I slip out from under him. Crawling on the floor towards the door, I try to get away from him as fast as I can, and in what must be my first strike of luck in this entire nightmare of an evening, he doesn't try to stop me. Instead, he stays in place, repeating the word "Sorry," over and over again.

I manage to drag my weight up to the door and reach for the handle, using it as support to pull myself up. As I stand, I pull my dress down to its original position, relieved when I notice my underwear hasn't been removed or pushed to the side. I look back to see the guard where I left him, sitting on the floor, balled up with his head in his hands. I desperately turn the doorknob, praying it's not locked. Fortunately, it's not, and the door swings open, making me fall to my knees on the other side.