Rise Read online

  I open my eyes and my hair in his hand. He smells it once more before placing it quickly into his jacket pocket. I try for a moment while his arm is off of mine to break free, but he is too quick, too strong. He has both of my hands above my head now, held by one of his large calloused, disgusting hands. Oh no, his other hand is free. I scream again as he slams his hand over my mouth stifling the noise.

  “You fucking do that again and I will slice you in half!” he emphasizes each word. I didn’t notice it before as he pulls a large hunting knife from his side and slowly drags the blade down the side of my face, over my neck and down to my chest. He slices open my t-shirt in one fluid motion, scraping my skin as well. He leans down and licks the blood from the small wound he has just created across my breastbone.

  I struggle and squirm but it’s no use. He is too strong for me and I am weakening. He is too heavy, too enraged. He lifts his hips briefly to rip down my pants leaving them around my ankles as makeshift shackles. In one swift moment, I hear the rip of my panties as they are pulled from my hips. This is not happening! Tears stream down my face. I want to die. Anything but this! I want to vomit, pass out, die! Anything. Quietly and painfully I squeak, “No, no, no please, no…” I feel his erection against my right thigh, and I hope at least it is fast. But it isn’t. As he begins pulling his pants down, I scream again without even realizing it. He reaches for a pillow and slams it down onto my face. My pants are completely gone now. When did that happen? He has my knees pinned apart with his. It happens so fast and calculated I feel he is no stranger to this. And that thought sickens me even more.

  Suddenly he rips into me with such force that I feel like I have been split in two. I scream again and again into the pillow. I cannot breathe, and I don’t care, maybe I will succumb to the lack of air soon. I hope. I pray. He keeps going for what seems like hours and I know it has been only moments because I am still conscious. He growls as he finishes mumbling something under his breath I can’t hear exactly. Does it matter?

  He removes the pillow and I try taking in a deep breath of air. I begin coughing, crying, sobbing. I still can’t breathe. I am gasping so hard that my throat is burning. He starts to laugh. LAUGH! A demonizing cruel laugh. “Oh, you are such the victim, aren’t you?” he is millimeters from my lips as he speaks. Who is this man? This is certainly not the person I have known all of these years, or is it? Has he hurt other women? How long has he been thinking of doing this to me? Fuck, I know his parents. His eyes blaze at me. He looks like the devil, like the devil himself! And I, I am in Hell. He inhales and growls again “That was almost as good as I expected it to be. Shall we go again?”

  What? No, God save me I just want him to go! He is a bigger monster than I could have ever imagined. What is worse than the devil himself? Him, yes Sam, he is.

  This time is longer he has thrown me onto the floor now. Laying atop my clothes. Dirty and clean well, now all dirty. I hear him murmur how wonderful I smell. “Fuck you!” I snap. Oh, shit why did I say that? I need to just keep my mouth shut. “Fuck me? No, no fuck you!” he twists both of my wrists back behind my back, so I am lying on top of them. I hear a snap.

  “ARGH!” I cry out. My wrist, or arm I know it’s broken. I can feel the slow throbbing intensify. I am going to pass out, thank God. The pain is just too much. The pain from my head all the way down between my legs is excruciating. I start to fade… He swiftly smacks my face to bring me back to the here and now, but it is a lost effort and I am gone.

  I fade back in for a moment and see he is grinning from ear to ear still on top of me but with both hands free as he whispers, “Oh good you’re awake for this. I see the knife shine in front of my eyes then feel the cold steel travel down my face, neck and to my chest before I fade again.

  I wake to the sunlight beaming through the window. I am so cold. My head pounding, my arm throbbing and my …oh I remember he raped me; tortured me. Where is he? I think. I am in a panic suddenly. I feel the dried blood on the back of my neck and on my shoulders. Between my legs, I still feel the warmth of fresh blood from his assault. I cannot move, I try but I can’t. I try and shout for help, who would hear me? I scan the room for my cell phone, I can’t remember where I put it. Is it even here? Did he take it? Where is he? If I just lay here will I bleed to death? Will someone find me? I can’t even lift my head let alone get out of this room. I am trapped. Just then I hear a soft knock at the front door.

  I begin to quiver with fear. Is it him? Oh God, help me please no!

  “Nettie? It’s Sara are you in there?”

  “Sara!” I shout or try to anyway. Sara works with me at the same paper. She is also a photographer. That’s right, we were supposed to meet this morning.

  “Nettie? Is that you?”

  I screech again as best I can in hopes she’ll realize something is wrong. I whimper and my warm tears roll from the corners of my eyes into my blood-caked hair. I look over and see her through clouded eyes. She peers through my bedroom window and she screams, bringing her hand to her mouth in horror of what she sees. Well, I must look as bad as I feel. I see her take out her phone I assume calling for help. I sigh in relief as I am safe, for now. Thank you, Sara, thank you God! I close my eyes and drift again….

  Chapter 3

  Alive

  I hear mumbling, low and faded in my head. Where am I? My eyes flutter as my mother and father come into focus. “Mom” I squeak. She turns to look at me and appears as pale as a ghost. It’s apparent that she has been crying.

  “Oh, God Antoinette! Oh, my beautiful baby girl!” She hugs me and I wince. She never uses my full name. My entire body aches.

  “Sorry honey, I am just so glad you are awake. The police want to speak to you as soon as possible so they can get this asshole!” I have never heard her so pissed.

  “Do you know who did this to you?” My dad chimes in as he leans down and ever so gently places a kiss on my forehead. I flinch immediately, not in pain I just don’t want to be touched.

  “Sam” I whisper. Tears threaten to appear, and I push them down.

  “Sam?” My father says in shock. “Sam your friend from high school? Sam Knox? That Sam?” I nod slowly. Ow, that hurts too. Oh, I forgot…. my hair. As I start to reach up to feel the bald spot, I notice that my right wrist is wrapped in a bulky splint. I look at my parents quizzically for a moment.

  “A fracture to your right forearm. Clean though, the doctors said it should heal nicely.” My mother gets the words out then begins to sob.

  “What else?” I ask. May as well get it all out on the table now. My father steps forward and sits at the edge of my bed. My mother is too distraught to speak.

  “Well,” he croaks and then clearing his throat begins again. “Do you remember anything?”

  “Yes. I do, too well.” I am beginning to sound more assertive and less broken.

  “Well, you have a cut down the middle of your chest, a few inches long. Not so deep that it needed stitches,” he continues looking down and fidgeting with his gold wedding band. “He hit you across the right side of your face, punched actually. They thought he could’ve broken your eye socket, but he didn’t. You have one hell of a shiner already though.” Oh, God, I don’t even want to see myself. He closes his eyes before this next part. It must be bad. “You were sexually assaulted and… are you sure you don’t want me to have the doctor speak with you about this?” he looks up at me this time. Oh, my poor daddy. I see the pain in his eyes. His big beautiful hazel eyes that match mine. They look golden today. I love my father. He is so handsome. He is the typical tall, dark and handsome man. Chocolate brown hair with not even the hint of gray in it. How? I don’t know. He is a prince.

  “No. Dad if you don’t mind, I would rather hear it from you or Mom.” I glance at my mother and she is not crying anymore but she looks horrified. She can’t speak so I turn back to my father. I nod for him to finish.

  “Well baby, when he…er…um…raped you” Oh shit that just made it all the
more real. Someone saying that word raped, I was raped. “He was so rough that you tore, pretty badly.” He pauses and I know this is incredibly uncomfortable for him to talk about, as it should. “You needed several stitches to repair the damage. He cut you on your chest, over your heart. four lines vertically, the same size. Those were deep enough for stitches. And you’ll most certainly have a scar.” Oh, I feel it now. My fingertips gently graze the wounds over my chest. He marked me. Gave me a constant visible reminder of him. Of this. Forever. Ha, scarred, I think. Not just on my body, but on my soul as well. What a sick fuck! He cut me too? I mean he ripped me apart inside out for Christ’s sake, and he had to cut me?! Sadistic mother fucker!

  “Is that all dad?” I am brought back to this moment. He looks so broken. “Well, injury-wise, yes.”

  “Wow” is all I can think to say. He nods. I see his eyes glisten as they begin to fill with tears.

  I have never in my life seen my father cry. My strong, supportive, amazing father. This is enough to throw me over the edge and I weep. I drop my head in my good hand and weep, heaving and crying so hard, that the sound that comes out is unrecognizable. Both of my parents come to either side of me and pull me into a protective cocoon with their arms. We are a ball of sobs. Desperate to comfort one another. I have never felt such pain. Such heartbreak. Not just for myself, but for them as well.

  After what seems like forever our tears begin to subside, and we break from our embrace. All of us wiping tears from our eyes and snot from our noses. I giggle a small bit. “We look a mess!” they both smile in return. A sad and fake smile. My father stands.

  “I need to go speak to the police and tell them it was Sam. I’ll be right back. Do you need anything, my love?” He says gently to me.

  “No Daddy” I shake my head. “I’m fine.” I am not fine; I think to myself. Mom rises as well and presses the call button on the side of my bed.

  “Yes?” the nurse comes through the intercom.

  “She’s awake,” my mom croaks softly and with a slight grin.

  As we wait for the nurse something occurs to me. “How did he get in?” I ask my mother.

  “They don’t know yet, dear. There was no sign of forced entry.

  “Oh. I didn’t hear him.” I say. “I didn’t even know he was there until he hit me.” A lump begins to form in my throat again. But I have no tears left.

  My mom speaks, “did you forget to lock a door or something?”

  I shake my head no. “I know for a fact I checked the doors before I went to bed.” Then I think…. was he already in my house? While I was in the shower maybe? Did he wait for me to fall asleep? Maybe he was watching me the whole time. The thought sickens me, but I choke back the sour bile at the back of my throat. No, he couldn’t have been there. He had liquor on his breath when he was on top of me. A lot of it. He had to have left. Then how had he gotten in? It doesn’t matter I suppose. He got in and there is nothing that will change that now.

  The nurse comes into the room with a bright genuine smile on her face. She is wearing all white from her scrub top down to her K Swiss shoes. Her platinum blonde hair is neatly braided down her back and out of her face. She looks to be about my age. She is very comforting already. There is something very warm and genuine about her.

  “Hello Nettie, my name is Claire I will be taking care of you today.” I nod. “How is your pain level?” she asks.

  “Ok I guess, could be better.” She checks the IV in my arm and looks briefly at my swollen eye and scalp.

  “On a scale of one to ten, one being no pain at all and ten being the worst imaginable, what would you say your pain level is?” Well, had I been asked this before yesterday I would have said a nine but after truly experiencing the worst pain imaginable, I settle on a four,

  “A four, five maybe?” she glances at my chart.

  “We can give you something more for pain. You’re about due,” she says politely. “The doctor will be in shortly. I paged him to let him know you were awake” she continues.

  “Thank you, Claire,” my mother finally speaks.

  “Of course, Mrs. Madison.” She looks to me now. “If there is anything, I can get you Nettie please don’t hesitate to ask. There is water by the bed and the cafeteria menu if you feel up to it.” I smile kindly at her. A real smile too. She is very sweet.

  “Thanks.” I murmur as she exits my room.

  I certainly don’t want food, but I am parched. As I begin to reach for my water my mother beats me too it. “Thanks, Mom, just a little please,” I am afraid I may vomit if I drink too much. But I end up emptying the cup with just a few gulps. My thirst outweighs the pain in my throat. She refills it for me quickly and I drink down another cup. That’s better. I sigh and lean my head back against the pillow behind me. Suddenly a panic sets in. “Mom! Get rid of the pillows, please!” She looks confused. The panic has escalated. “Mom, now please!” I begin to shake. My heart suddenly feels as though it is going to leap out of my chest. She moves in double time and takes the pillows from behind me and tosses them on the floor. She stares at me, her head cocked to one side waiting for an explanation. “He held a pillow over my face the first time he…. because I screamed.” At this moment I think I can hear my mother’s heart breaking. “I thought I was going to die.” I continue “I would have rather died.” A few tears stream down my face and I know I truly mean these words as I say them. He just ruined my life. He broke me. I will never be the same as I was…before.

  Mom comes to my side yet again and very carefully and gently rubs her hand across my back. I don’t want her touch on me, but I let her. She begins making small circles just as she did when I was a child. Slowly I do begin to relax. We stay like this for a few moments neither of us speaking. I lay back on the cool scratchy hospital sheets and thank her as I sigh. She takes her place back on the light blue faux leather chair at my bedside and I am suddenly exhausted.

  Before I can think to even try, I am asleep once again. I don’t know how long it’s been, but when I wake again in my hospital room. I am alone. I press the call button at my bedside and Claire’s sweet voice radiates through the intercom.

  “Yes, Miss Madison? Can I help you?”

  “Um, yes.” I stutter. “Are my parents still here?”

  “Oh, I think they went to grab a bite to eat in the cafeteria. I’ll find out for you.” The intercom clicks.

  “Thank you,” I say. At this moment I am feeling ok to be alone. In a way, I am relieved by the seclusion. It doesn’t last long because just as I have the thought, I hear footsteps approaching my room. I look up and it is a doctor, my doctor I would assume. Following not far behind him are one uniformed police officer and a woman dressed in a hideous navy-blue pantsuit. The officer is a man in his mid-fifties, maybe. He has a short buzz cut and a belly that hangs over his black leather belt.

  How are cops overweight, don’t they have to chase the bad guys? This guy couldn’t catch a cold. I mean he even looks out of breath right now and he is just standing there. Next to him stands the woman looking awkward and mousy in appearance. Perhaps she works for the hospital or is an officer but just not dressed in uniform? I do notice she has quite a beautiful face. Not a stitch of make- up on and her hair is disheveled. She must be a new cop. What do they call them? Rookies? I don’t know I think that’s what they say on police shows. Law and Order SVU is my favorite. How ironic, I could be on that show now. Fuck! I can’t believe this is happening to me! ME!

  As the doctor begins to speak my focus is back on him. “Hi, Miss Madison.” He starts.

  “Nettie please, you can call me Nettie.”

  “Yes, then Nettie. I know your father talked to you a bit about what happened do you have any questions for me?” I shake my head no. Not saying a word. I don’t need or want to know any more. “Well, none of the damage done was too extensive. You will be in pain for a while and we have already started you on a round of antibiotics because of the lacerations you suffered.” Suffered is rig
ht. You hit that dead-on Doc. “Also, I am going to have the nurse bring you the plan B pill, the morning-after pill. Just in case.” Oh, shit I hadn’t thought of that. That bastard could have knocked me up. “A rape kit will be done as well if you consent?” he continues. I nod.

  “Of course.” He didn’t use a condom. I shudder at the memory.

  “Very well, our SANE nurse on call will be in soon to do that. That’s someone who specializes in sexual assaults.” He sounds so professional. Well, he is. I suppose I am not the first rape victim he has met. No, certainly not. Is that what I am now, a rape victim? A survivor? Oh, the good doc is still talking, I suppose I should listen. “Other than bruising and the stitches we need to keep an eye on, you should be able to go home tomorrow as long as we can manage your pain. All your scans came back clear. No internal damage or head trauma.” Ha! I beg to differ. He looks briefly at my chart and scribbles a few things. He flips it shut. “Your arm should heal nicely. We’ll keep it braced for now and hopefully won’t need to cast it.” He inhales sharply and continues, “Well then, if you have no questions for me the police would like to ask you a couple themselves.” He smiles and turns to walk out nodding goodbye to the officer or officers, whatever. Back to them, I look. I can’t help noticing that the older cop looks a bit nervous and the female stands looking very cool and calm. Dad bod speaks first.

  “Hello Miss Madison, my name is Officer Hill, and this is Detective Montgomery.” Wow! Detective? I didn’t expect that.

  “We have a few questions if you don’t mind?” Detective Montgomery speaks up. She sounds more professional than she looks.

  “Of course,” I answer. Do I really have a choice?

  “First of all, we want to know if you knew your attacker?” Well, I thought I did.

  “Yes, I told my father this already.” They look at one another and the woman speaks again.

  “I know, but we need to hear this straight from you.” I adjust myself in the bed and sit up as best I can. This is not an easy task given the splint on one arm and IV in the other.