by Amy Rachiele
“Yeah, that’s me.” I reached across him to the glove compartment and grabbed some tissues to blow my nose. “Wait, you’re a senior now?” I asked, feeling compelled in this harrowing situation to keep the conversation going.
“Hmph...yeah. A 19-year-old one. I stayed back a couple of times. I got into trouble...a LOT. I was out of school more than I was in.”
“Is there someone you want me to go get in the house for you?” I asked, uncomfortably shifting in my seat to look at the house and not at him. The house was dark and barely even looked habitable, never mind appearing like someone was home.
“Nah, I’ll be alright. It’s just me.” Will put his hand on the door handle and groaned as he lifted himself to get out of the car. I jumped out of the car and ran around to help him out. “You’re not going to tell me what happened to you tonight, are you?” he asked, concerned.
“It’s not worth mentioning. I need to get going.” I grabbed him under the arm to help him up the broken cement walk to the house.
“Do you want to come in and rest for a while? You’ve been through a lot tonight,” Will asked as we reach the door. He twisted painfully towards me.
“No, YOU have been through a lot tonight,” I said matter-of-factly. We stood there looking at each other.
“Thanks again, Joy.” Will said, his fat lip trying to smile again as he took a long look at me. He fumbled with the doorknob and hobbled into the house.
Chapter 3
Kara:
Kara’s head snaps back as Tommy slaps her across the face. Her cheek stings with agony, but it takes her thoughts off the pricking sensation in her legs where the ropes cut off her circulation. Tommy shouts at her to stop crying. He yells and howls at her incessantly. Kara can only hear part of it because of the daze she is in. People are talking, and there is laughter somewhere in this foreign place.
“Stop crying!” Tommy roars. “Stop crying right fucking now!”
Kara hates herself because she can’t. Tears keep coming and flow freely down her face. A piece of torn cloth is wrapped around her face by someone she can’t see. Then another is placed around her eyes. She can feel the culprit behind her tie it in a tight knot.
*****
Joy:
The next morning, I hurt all over and my mind was murky. Even though my apartment was a small one for students, crossing the small space just to make it to the bathroom took a great deal of energy. In the mirror, I could see tiny scrape marks on my face and dirt crusted on my cheeks, reminders of hitting the ground face-first when Tommy pushed me. Thinking about it made my hands tingle in a fearful way and I shook all over again.
Knock. Knock. I jumped out of my skin.
“Come on, Joy-Joy, we’re gonna be late! You know how I am. I don’t want to miss the previews.”
Jen! Whew!
My friend Jen loved slasher flicks and had to see them on opening weekend. It was a ridiculous ritual we had. We even get the same seats and the same snacks every time.
“I’m coming.” I unlocked the door to let her in.
“Oh my...HOLY...what happened to you?” Jen yelled as she worked her way into my small apartment.
“I had a ‘run-in’ at the game last night.”
“What!?” Jen screeched, examining my face.
“I was taking pictures...ummm...under the bleachers after the game. These thugs dragged someone underneath and beat the crap out of him.” I took a breath through my mouth that morphed into a lump. “I didn’t know what to do, and they saw me... One of them grabbed me.” Recalling the nightmarish event made my voice shake and the tears come again.
“Joy! You need to go to the police!” Jen hugged me and walked me to the couch. “Was that it? They just grabbed you?” Jen asked. She hurried into the kitchen area and filled a glass of water, then came back to fuss over me.
“Well...” I hesitated and sat on the couch, holding a crumpled up tissue in my hands. “I think the guy that grabbed me may have raped me if it wasn’t for one of the guys intervening...I think his name was Derek.”
“The guy who tried to rape you was named Derek?” she asked, handing me the water. Jen’s face was frozen in inquisitive horror.
“No...the guy who stopped him...was Derek. Ugh, it’s all kind of a confusing blur.” I let my head fall in my hands. “The guy who grabbed me was named Tommy. At least, that’s what his friends called him.” I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “I really need a shower, Jen. Do you mind if we skip movie mania today?” A light bulb flashed on in my fragile mind. “Damn it! I forgot! My camera is still under the bleachers somewhere.” I looked back to Jen, “Oh, and they stole my phone.”
“They stole your phone? Why would they do that?” Jen asked incredulously.
“I don’t know, but I really need to find my camera.”
“Look, Joy, I’m coming with you. Then I think we should go to the police.”
“That guy Tommy threatened me. He said if I went to the police, he’d kill me.” I turned to Jen. “Jen, I don’t think I have ever been this scared in my whole life.” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms trying to comfort myself.
“Joy, what if they find out where you live and come after you again?” She paused. “And what happened to the other guy, the one they beat up?”
“Oh, jeez, him? I forgot to tell you about him. Um...I crawled over to him, put him in my car, and then drove him home. He wouldn’t go to the emergency room... Jen, you should have seen him. I don’t think I would even recognize him once his face heals up. He was so beaten and bloodied. His eyes were swollen up like he went ten rounds with a professional boxer, and his lip was three times normal size. I bet they broke some of his ribs too. He was holding his stomach for the whole ride.”
“Joy, get in the shower then we’ll go get your camera,” Jen ordered me.
I walked to the bathroom feeling like an automaton. The water sluiced down the curves of my body. My numb, violated skin barely registered it as my mind willed the water to wash away the horror and visions of last night.
When I emerged from the bathroom, Jen had turned on the TV and the news was on. I slowly dragged myself to the couch to put on my shoes. I pushed my wet hair away from my face feeling my sore scalp from where Tommy’s hand had practically ripped the hair from my skull.
I was so shaky that Jen drove us to Pittsfield. I didn’t even remember getting home last night. We got out of the car and walked over to the bleachers. It was a blustery, overcast day. It felt surreal, like the horror of the night before happened in a dream or to someone else.
Jen crawled underneath the bleachers. I can’t. I can’t move. I am frozen in place. Jen called back to me.
“Don’t worry, Joy. I can do this. Where do you think your camera is?”
“Go to the left.”
After a couple of minutes, Jen yelled back to me. “I got it.”
A slight relief washed over me. Thank God! She edged her way out from under the bleachers.
“Here it is.”
Jen handed me the dirty camera bag with the camera half hanging out of it. I took it completely out to examine it for damage. Surprisingly, it looked okay. I wouldn’t know till I tried to use it, but it appeared to have survived the kick. I looked through the viewer, and it wasn’t cracked.
During the ride back to our apartment building, Jen tried to convince me to go to the police, saying it was my duty to the public to notify the authorities of these hoodlums harassing citizens. She made a great case, but I couldn’t do it. I was too scared, not just scared for myself, but also scared for Jen.
“Do you want me to come in?” she asked. “I can make you some coffee.”
“No, I’ll be okay. I just need a nap. I’m really tired.”
“Well, I’ll be right upstairs if you need me. Later on, if you want, we can head to the mall to get you a new phone.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. We can also test my camera to make sure it works.”
Chapte
r 4
Kara:
Kara’s body welcomes sleep. When she wakes, the darkness competes with the faded moonlight streaming in from the outside. The distinct ripping sound of duct tape echoes loudly in what is a cavernous space. Blind panic revs her heart, reminding her of the sheer helplessness of her situation.
A hand unties the rag of cloth fastened around her mouth. A fresh piece of duct tape replaces it and is placed over her lips.
“You gotta feed her or give her some water,” a distant young boy’s voice declares. His voice is a little bit familiar.
“You fucking do it!”
The fresh piece of duct tape is ripped away, but she is still left blind. The cloth on her eyes does not move.
“You thirsty?”
Kara nods her head yes. A small piece of plastic is put against her lips, and she realizes it is a water bottle. The faceless person tips it, and cool water flows between her lips into her mouth and down her throat. Just that small bit of water rejuvenates her and brings back some semblance of clarity.
Images of being accosted, bound, and gagged flutter through her mind, turning the welcome water into ash on her tongue.
Heavy boots sound against cement. The owner walks as if their steps are bursting with malice and a false sense of power. Kara’s body and mind are unconnected and distant, coming to terms with her kidnapping.
“Why her?” a voice asks.
“Because I can!” a deep, angry one answers. The ruthlessness and inflection causes a nasty cringe through Kara...Tommy!
Kara blinks away the fog that comes when she opens her eyes. Her mind registers that she’s no longer blindfolded. She shifts and tugs against her restraints automatically. She tries to get a grip on reality, if only just to figure out what day it is. Her mind is telling her it’s been two days; her body is telling her it’s been a lifetime.
*****
Joy:
Going back into my apartment alone was eerie. I had never even come close to that feeling of aloneness and vulnerability in my life. Even in high school when my best friend at the time, Kristin, told me that everyone hated me. She said that people were putting on a show to be nice to me, but really they were snickering behind my back. I believed her. I really thought, why would my best friend make this up? I felt betrayed and defeated.
Trusting people was hard back then. I withdrew from everyone. I couldn’t even tell my parents. They would never understand. Their solution would be to bake brownies and pass them out. It was then that I started watching life through the lens of a camera.
One day, I finally confided in a somewhat acquaintance at the time, Jen. We were in a couple of classes together, so we had talked here and there. She cornered me at my locker one day and asked why I was so sad all the time. I said to myself Whatever, I might as well tell her. Everyone is already talking about me. I explained the situation.
Jen looked at me perplexed, blinked a few times. Then she turned to me with the most assured expression and said, “Kristin is a bitch. She has been jealous of you for years. You are just too nice to even notice it. Forget her.” And with that declaration, Jen and I have been best friends ever since. We even had the same interest in the arts. She was in to drawing and sculpture. The fact that I was in to photography made it a perfect match for us to apply to RISD. After that, we scored these great studio apartments in converted Brownstones downtown.
The apartment seemed cold as I walk in. I looked at the thermostat on the wall, but it was set to 68 degrees, like always. I shrugged and went towards my bedroom. A breeze washed over me. The window was open. Confused, I slowly inched over to it. Outside was a fire escape. I froze as it dawned on me. Someone is trying to get in...or did get in! I swung around where I stood. Standing next to the doorway was a man. I took a breath to scream, but, in two strides he was at me, reaching for me. He covered my scream with his hand. I tried desperately to back up, but he had me. One hand covered my mouth and the other hand enveloped my waist. Restrained again in less than 24 hours! I noticed he was talking, soothingly, mere inches from my face. It took a minute for me to focus.
“Stop...I’m not going to hurt you.” He shook me gently to get my attention. “I came to see if you were okay.” He paused. “I’m sorry about last night.”
Tears spilled from my eyes as I nodded my head, attempting to get him to understand that I was saying Okay. I really wasn’t okay, though. I wanted him to let go of me, but I thought the best way was to submit.
He relaxed his grip slightly, just enough for me to pull away and run towards the door. In hindsight, I was closer to the window. I should have run on to the fire escape screaming. I didn’t get a foot away from him before he grabbed me again, this time from behind. I jabbed my elbow into his ribs. He lets out an OAF!
Recovering quickly he said, “I guess this is going to take a little convincing. I know you’re scared. I just wanted to check on you and give you your phone back.”
I lowered my eyes to the bed and, lo and behold, there was my phone resting on crumpled blankets. He must have felt me relax because he said, “I’m going to let go now. Please don’t run.”
The guy slowly let go. I did as he asked for two reasons: One, I knew now that he was fast, and I would not get too far. Two, why did he return my phone? I stepped back, turned, and planted my eyes directly at his face, a lame attempt at steeling any bravery I had. It was Derek, the guy who came to my rescue under the bleachers. My heart rate slowed a bit.
“Why?” I asked.
“I knew you were really scared last night. I couldn’t get away from them to come and find you afterwards. Tommy threw your phone in a pile of junk at the garage where we stay. I fished it out this morning.”
“How did you find me?” I asked, voice cracking. So much for bravery. My voice sounded like I was a 2-year-old.
“Come on, why don’t you sit down?” He could tell I was wavering and very shaky. I picked up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed with it in my quivering hands. I focused on the floor. I couldn’t face him when he started speaking again. “Actually, it was too easy. I used your phone to get on your cell account. All of your information comes up with the billing address.” He looked around the room. “Do you go to college here?”
Derek walked over to the walls where I had some of my favorite pictures hanging.
“Did you take these?”
He pointed to the one of a quarterback from Pittsfield a year ago. In it, the quarterback was jumping with a fist pump in the air, and the rest of the background was muted and blurry. The quarterback was the only clear image in the picture. It was one of my favorites. It appeared as if the player was going to rocket into the sky, he was so happy.
“Yeah. I took them.”
“Wow, you’re really good,” he says, smiling at me. As the fear subsided, anger started to set in.
“What are you doing here, besides breaking and entering, not to mention assault?” I tossed my phone back on the bed.
An amused expression formed on his face and he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, “I didn’t assault you. I just restrained you until you turned off your ‘flight’ response.”
“My what?” Now, I was really getting angry.
“You know. ‘Fight or flight’ response. When someone is in a dangerous situation, two things can happen. They can fight or their body tells them to run...flight.”
I stood up right in front of him, planting my feet.
“How about this!? Get the hell out of my apartment and don’t come back!”
As the words with all of their fury flew out of my mouth, my hand came up. I slapped him hard across the face, so hard that his head whipped to the side. I can’t believe that I hit him! A red welt formed on his face. I didn’t feel bad that I did it, I just felt surprised at my own bravery.
“Get out,” I say again, as I back into the living room area.
He yelled back to me, “That would be ‘fight’ response.”
I turned and r
an out the door, up the stairs to Jen’s apartment. Either Jen heard me coming or had a “sixth sense” because she opened her door as I raised my hand to knock. She ushered me inside.
Chapter 5
Kara:
“Get up!” Tommy says, tearing off the duct tape on Kara’s mouth savagely.
A guy leans down, untying her feet from the legs of the chair. He looks up at her, and Kara recognizes him as someone from her science class. He steps behind her and unties the rope on her hands.
“Get up!” Tommy barks again, making Kara flinch. She stands with effort, her limbs betraying her because of their immobility for so long.
Kara walks stiffly to the bathroom. Slowly, feeling returns to her extremities.
“Keep walking,” Tommy gruffly chastises from behind her
“I’ll take her,” science-class-kid says.
Kara gazes back over her shoulder, and a jolt of pain shoots through her neck. Her joints are taut. Science-class-guy has a twinge of pity in his eyes, and Kara wishes she could remember his name.
She shuffles to the dirty bathroom and shudders at the dried urine stains and dirt crusted along the floor and toilet bowls. The smell is overpowering. Kara jabs her index finger up to her nose to block the offensive smell.
Her eyes glimpse her wrists, and she is amazed to see them bloodied and practically skinless. Seeing her body in a mangled state accelerates her blood and her body shakes.
“Brian,” he says. He breaks her from her stupor and she cast her eyes on him. “That’s my name,” he says bashfully. “I didn’t think you remembered from class.”
Afraid to speak, Kara shakes her head slowly from side to side, but letting him know that she really doesn’t remember.
“I’m really sorry about this... Umm...This never happened before... Usually, we don’t know the girls.” Brian frowns in thought. “It’s different.” Remorse showers his features, filling his eyes with sadness.
“Hurry up!” a voice calls from the doorway.
