Chapter 19

I didn't know who this person was, but he was messing with the best night of my school life. His hands were big and rough. I knew my arm was going to be black and blue in the morning. That was assuming that I saw morning.

He kicked at a door and threw me into a room that smelled of oil and sawdust. I stumbled against a table with something that caught my dress. I heard it tear and the pressure started building behind my eyes. I loved that dress. My attacker grabbed me off the floor and pushed me against that same table.

I couldn't see very well, but I could see the glint of the steel as he waved it in front of my face.

"Don't make me use this," he said. There was something vaguely familiar about the voice, but I wasn't given a chance to figure it out. He slammed the knife into the top of the table and that gave him two hands to toss me around. I tried to push him away and he backhanded me. I was fighting unconsciousness when those hands took hold of my beloved dress and tore it like paper. He was pawing all over me and I had a sudden picture of what was going to happen next.

I was never one to grow long nails, but I slashed at him trying to get his eyes. I never made contact. He caught both hands and held them easily. With the other hand he tore my underwear from me.

"I can't see," he mumbled, "I want to see." He wrenched me along behind him as he headed for the light switch. I was twisting and kicking, trying anything to escape. I could hear my breath rasping in my throat. Here I was in a school full of potential rescuers and I couldn't make a sound. The room lights went on and I knew why I recognized the voice. It was Rickard, Chastity's new boyfriend and John Wayne's halfback on the football team and all round right hand man.

Rickard panted and licked his lips. His eyes were fixed on my immature looking nether regions. I tried to wrench away again and he absentmindedly slapped me again. I tasted blood in my mouth and one eye refused to focus. I decided that I wanted him to kill me, because I didn't want to live with what he was about to do. He fumbled at his pants and managed to pull his thing out.

I swear when I saw it my first thought was I've seen better. At least those damned porn emails lessened the shock value. I aimed a kick at it, but he chopped my leg and I thought he'd broken it. He put his hand on me and tried to spread me open.

That's when something broke in me, I tilted my head back and let out the most god-awful scream. That gave the bastard a problem. He had one hand on my hands and one between my legs. That didn't leave anything to stop the flood of sound that poured out of me.

He chose to ignore it and threw me to the floor. I knew that this was it. I was done. I could feel blood at the back of my throat and hoped that I would bleed to death.

Just before he threw himself on top of me the door smashed open and an angel in high heels flew into the room. Marilyn picked Rickard up and threw him across the room. Rickard screamed and they crashed together like the nature movies of big horn sheep. I cowered on the floor and tried to stop wailing, but now that I'd started I didn't know how to stop. My throat burned and bubbled, but I couldn't stop.

It felt like the fight had raged on for hours when Mr. Hand and the cops burst into the room. The cops separated Marilyn and Rickard.

"Arrest him! Arrest him!" Mr. Hand was shouting. I was trying to cover myself, but no one was looking at me. Mr. Hand was pointing at Marilyn and the cops had wrestled both boys to the floor. They cuffed them and left them lying glaring at each other.

"I saw him drag her away," Mr. Hand said to the one cop while the other was on the radio calling for backup.

"The next person who tries to come down this hall will spend the night in jail." I never imagined a woman's voice with that much authority. She walked into the room and took in everything at a glance.

"Couldn't you at least get her something to cover herself?" She twitched a shop coat off the wall and draped it around me. My screaming cut off like the coat was an off switch.

"The Principal is saying that this one is the attacker," one of the male cops said. He nudged Marilyn with his foot.

"No," I said, but I didn't think it would be loud enough for anyone to hear. The female cop heard though and gave me a sharp look.

"Get them out of here," she said. "Make sure they're in separate cars and I want all their clothes and the rest." More cops had arrived and they hoisted Marilyn and Rickard to their feet and dragged them out.

"I told you it was that...." Mr. Hand was still trying to think of a suitable word when the female cop looked at him.

"I'll get to you in a moment, sir."

I tried to talk again, but I coughed instead. Suddenly I couldn't stop coughing.

"I told you that boy was trouble." Mr. Hand loomed over me. "And now you see I was right."

I tried to tell him that he was a fricking idiot, but blood came out instead of words. I puked blood all over his shoes and he scrabbled back and fell to the floor.

Things got a bit confusing then. The cop was yelling for an ambulance while Mr. Hand swore and tried to scrub my blood off his hands. I didn't fight the darkness but dove in gratefully.

If I was lucky I'd never wake up.