Always and Forever (47 page)

His hand strokes the side of my face and silence falls
between us. I feel so lost and confused, its all so much to take in. The girl I
met earlier tonight was a mess and all because of her love for Jake. What if I
end up like her? I can’t think of anything worse than being like the distraught
and tormented wreck I was faced with earlier. I would never do the things that
Sarah did but it’s not too difficult for me to imagine myself becoming a victim
of my addictive, obsessive love for him. I don’t want to be her; I already know
I’d be a heartbroken, empty shell of a person without him. Is this amount of
dependency on someone even healthy?

“I think I need some time to process things. Right now this
is way too much for my mind to deal with.” I say, jumping to my feet.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave, Bethany. We have to
sort things out; I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll stay up all night with
you and we’ll figure things out. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
He says decisively, standing up to join me.

I really wish that I could share Jake’s unwavering faith
and certainty. He brushes my hair back from my face, his fingers tangle in the
sticky remnants left over from Sarah’s drink and I move away from him,
humiliated by my appearance and what she did to me.

“I need to go home, I’ve been out for hours and I need to
sort myself out. I need to wash my hair and cleanse myself of everything that
happened tonight.  I can only imagine how ugly I am right now.”

“You’re beautiful.” He says softly, tracing the shape of my
lips with his thumb.

“Jake, let me go.”

“Never.” He growls, dragging my body towards his.

“Just for a little while, I’m not saying forever.” I say
calmly, taking his hand in my own and interlacing our fingers together.

“Bethany, don’t leave me. I can’t be without you.” He begs,
running his lips down my neck, trying to entice me into staying.

“Just give me some time, I need some space. Trust me on
this, Jake.”

I stand on my tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. He
tries to hold onto me but I somehow manage to break away from his grasp. Jake
is close to being desolate and destroyed; he’s frozen and can’t seem to move,
even when I start to walk away from him. I can hardly bring myself to walk away
from him but I know I must. This isn’t the end to us; I decided a long time ago
that there would be no end for me and Jake.

I hear him call my name and start to chase after me. I
increase my speed until I’m running so fast I can hardly see where I’m going.
I’m not thinking about my direction, all I care about is being alone with my
thoughts.

I run so far I can no longer hear Jake’s voice calling out
my name. I immediately chastise myself for heading off on my own when I have no
idea where I am. I really am stupid, I feel like I’m walking around in circles.
I don’t know this area and I’m starting to panic with the sensation of being
completely and utterly lost.

 I decide to stop for a minute so I can catch my
breath and figure out what I’m going to do next. I sit down at the side of the
road as my tears start to fall; sitting here like this reminds me of how Jake
and I first met. I’m nowhere near the same place but I remember sitting all
alone just like this, helpless and alone.

It’s so late and dark now; I can’t even see any street
signs which would give me an indication as to where I am. Why the hell didn’t I
stay with Jake? I could have at least allowed him to walk me home. I hold my head
in my hands and try to remain calm. I could phone Jake and be honest with him;
he would come and get me without a moment’s hesitation. I have my phone with me
from when I snatched it off Jake so there’s no reason I can’t use it. Thank God
he managed to take it from Sarah before he chased after me.

My fear starts to take hold of me when I realise that even
if I did phone Jake, I have no idea where I am. How would I be able to let him
know where to find me? I feel so scared, frantic and completely broken. Tonight
has been one long, unforgettable nightmare, one that I’m desperate to wake up
from. Little do I know, my nightmare has only just begun.

“You ok, sweetheart?”

My silent sobs of despair are interrupted by the voice of someone
I don’t know. I startle, glancing up into the eyes of a stranger. He seems to
be a few years older than me but I can’t really tell because he has his hood
up, concealing most of his face. He looks awful, he’s clearly had too much to
drink because he’s swaying from side to side, unable to stand up straight. The
tracksuit he’s wearing is filthy and he’s clutching a large bottle of vodka in
his hand. His speech is slurred and he reeks of alcohol.

I quickly stand up, wiping away the remainder of my tears.
He already caught me in the middle of crying but I can’t help trying to make
myself appear less vulnerable.

“I’m fine. I’m actually just on my way home.” I turn away
from him and start walking in the opposite direction. I have no idea if I’m
going the right way; all I care about is getting as far away from him as
possible. My stomach is churning and my heart is beating rapidly with terror.
When I hear his footsteps behind me, I quicken my pace, reprimanding myself for
taking off by myself in the dark. How could I have been so stupid?

“Its ok, honey, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to
make sure you’re alright. I saw you crying and it made me wonder what a
beautiful young girl like you is doing out this late by herself. Why were you
crying, sweetheart? If you tell me I might be able to help.”

He soon catches up with my steps and starts to walk
alongside me. I glance at him warily, wondering if I’m being a little bit
paranoid.  Maybe he really does mean well and is just checking that I’m
ok. I suddenly remember the night I first met Jake. He was a complete stranger
to me but I never felt uneasy or scared like I do with this guy. My instincts
are screaming at me to run away. I somehow know that I shouldn’t trust this
guy, he’s dangerous and I need to get away from him. My anxiety increases when
I notice the way he’s now looking at me. His lecherous gaze slowly travels up
and down my body, causing me to tremble with fear and revulsion.

“Thanks but I really am ok. I need to get going.” I tell
him, hoping that my dismissive attitude will put an end to our conversation.
However, as I start walking away, he grabs hold of my arm, preventing me from
taking another step. He’s not quite at tall as Jake but he towers above my tiny
5 ft.2 inches. He stands in front of me, blocking my path and grinning at me
salaciously.

“Babe, you’ve been crying and I can’t let you walk home
alone, I’ll go with you.”

“I’m
fine. My boyfriend wouldn’t like it if you
walked with me; he’s actually waiting for me right now so I really should go.”

I attempt to move past him but he refuses to step aside.
The sound of my phone ringing surprises us both; it’s still in my back pocket
which is where I put it when I snatched it from Jake. I quickly try to reach
for it but the creep is too fast for me, his hand curls around my wrist,
stopping me from answering it.

“He’s not much of a boyfriend if he let’s you walk all
alone at night. You should forget him and talk to me instead; I guarantee I’ll
make it worth your while.” His firm grip on my wrist tightens and I just know
he’s giving me a silent warning.

“That’s him calling me right now; I really should go and
meet him. We had a bit of a row and he’s probably worried about me.” I murmur.

I loathe the way my voice wavers, revealing how petrified I
really am. Predators like him can detect a person’s fear like a shark can find
blood in the ocean. My phone eventually stops ringing, an ear-splitting silence
between us.

“Aw, you had an argument? What was it about? Was it another
girl?” He slurs, leaning in towards me. He notices my hesitation and smirks
triumphantly, knowing his guess was right.

“I really don’t want to talk about it; I’d just like to
go.” I say quietly, surreptitiously moving to the left and hoping he doesn’t
notice. He’s so intoxicated; I’m praying I’ll be fast enough to be able to make
a run for it.

“Your boyfriend’s a fool. What kind of idiot would choose
another girl over you?”

I cringe away from his touch when he reaches out for me; he
ignores my repulsion and traces his disgusting, discoloured fingers down the
side of my face. He uses the same hand that’s still clasping his bottle and I
recoil when the cold glass presses against my cheek. He leers at me,
misunderstanding my repugnant tremble for desire.

“Don’t.” I beg him, squirming away from his lecherous
caress.

“You’re actually really pretty.” He says, as though he’s
taken aback by his sudden observation.

 He licks his lips and takes a step closer. I can
smell the alcohol on his breath and I grimace. I’d give anything to be out of
this dark, depraved and dangerous situation I’m in. I can’t take much more of
anything, I just want to curl up into a little ball, close my eyes and be safe.

My phone starts to ring again and I look up at him,
weighing up the probability that my reflexes will be faster than his if I try
and reach for it again.

“Please let me answer it, he’ll be worried about me.” I
implore him.

His hand that stroked my cheek now circles my waist,
tugging me closer against him. My hands push against his chest, fiercely trying
to put some distance between us. He ignores my struggle and continues to watch
me squirm with a satisfied sneer on his face. His expression changes to that of
surprise when he finally notices the state of my dishevelled appearance.

“What happened to you? You have scratches on your and
there’s something in your hair. Aw, baby, did he hurt you? Don’t worry; I won’t
be too rough, unless you want me to be.” He whispers threateningly into my ear.

 I have to clench my teeth together to stop myself
from screaming. My small hands frantically push against his chest as I wriggle
away from him. It’s no use and he’s relentless, refusing to loosen his hold on
me. I turn my face to the side and force down the vomit rising up my throat
when I notice his lips are about to force themselves upon mine.

My phone stops ringing and the eerie silence that follows
descends once more. Even though I’m in the worst, horrifying situation of my
entire life, I can’t help but feel guilty for Jake. His incessant phone calls
prove how worried he must be about me taking off like that for the second time.
He’ll be going out of his mind with worry and he’ll only blame himself if
anything happens to me tonight. God, I’d give anything to rewind and go back to
a few hours ago. Why on earth did I persuade Jake to take me with him to the
party? Why didn’t I listen to him when he told me it wasn’t a good idea? If I
had just let him go and ignored my morbid curiosity about his lifestyle and his
friends, I wouldn’t be part of this hellish nightmare.

A tear escapes my eye but I strain my neck, arching as far
away as I can from him, determined I won’t let him see me cry. I won’t give him
the satisfaction of observing my weakness.

 I’m scared. I’m more terrified than I have ever been
but I know I can’t let my terror win. I must fight. Physically, I might not be
able to defend myself but my inner strength is not to be trifled with. I will
not let him get inside my head. I will not let him infiltrate my head. Instead,
I try to immerse myself in every beautiful, perfect memory I have with Jake. I
picture his face, his voice and his smile; using everything I can to transport
me away from this monster. I don’t want this vile predator to erase every
magical moment I’ve shared with Jake.

“Please don’t hurt me, let me go home and I won’t say a
word to anybody, I swear.” I beg him.

“Don’t worry; I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
He grins at me indecently, a clear insinuation of what he has planned.

My phone starts to ring for a third time and I can’t help
my intense concern for Jake. He will be going crazy wondering where I am and if
I’m still angry with him.

Knowing that my imagination has always been the key to my
freedom, knowing that it has always been my escape mechanism, I close my eyes,
willing my mind to help me escape this situation and the danger that I’m in. I
conjure up an image of Jake; I imagine his dark brown eyes and how they sparkle
when they look at me. I remember his smile and how his whole face lights up
whenever he sees me. I visualise the gentle kiss he always places on my
forehead whenever we have to say goodbye. I cherish every single moment and
immerse myself in the comfort my memories bring me. I can’t stop this
villainous creature taking from my body but I will not allow him to take
anything from my mind. My memories are my own and they will save me from what
is about to happen, whatever that might be.

 More than anything I hope Jake will be able to
forgive me. He begged me not to leave him tonight and I ignored him. I walked
away from him knowing that his heart was breaking, knowing that he needed my
comfort. What sort of person does that make me? I hope he knows how much I love
him, I long to tell him that I don’t care about thee past or anything that came
before we met. I want him to know that I don’t blame him for anything.

“Why are you doing this?” I blurt out, squirming away from
his rough hands which are groping up and down my body.

 My question interrupts his errant fumbling but goes
unanswered. He’s relentless in his pursuit of me, pulling at my clothes whilst
trying to balance his bottle between his fingers. I’m actually thankful he’s so
drunk; if he was sober he wouldn’t be so clumsy, he could be very capable and
this would have progressed a lot more than it has done so far.

Its funny how one bad move and one wrong decision can
change your whole life. I have known Jake for such a short amount of time and
yet he’s the only person I can think about right now, even above my own safety.

“Open your eyes.” My assailant demands.

 I’m unwilling to do as he asks; I don’t want to see
his repulsive face and I don’t want him to see the extreme terror on mine. I
whimper in disgust when his tongue glides down the side of my face to my neck.
I can feel him smiling against me and I cringe away from him. I feel sick, I
want to be sick and my mind is screaming at him to stop. How can a person do
this to another human being? How is it even possible? How is this happening to
me?

He’s ruthless and shows no mercy as he forcefully shoves his
hand down the front of my jeans. I sob loudly when his violently claws at my
underwear, roughly pushing them to the side. His fingers come into contact with
my naked skin and I freeze. I’ve never felt so violated or used. It’s as though
I don’t really matter at all, it’s my body he’s interested in, my thoughts and
desperate protests are inconsequential. His other hand surrounds my waist,
holding me still and in place. I’ve never felt so much shame and humiliation. I
thought what Sarah did to me was horrendous but this is unimaginable.

We read about it everyday in the newspapers, we sigh and
say what a shame it is for the nameless, faceless victim. We see it on the news
but we never truly believe it, we don’t believe the horrors that exist until
they are thrust upon us. Until we become the nameless, faceless victim.

I repeatedly say Jake’s name over and over in my head,
hoping that the thought of him will annihilate the reality of what is happening
to me. Jake can’t save me from this, he’s not here and I can no longer see any
way out of this but the idea of him is enough to instil some semblance of calm
inside me. I’m close to despair but I know I must remain strong and focused,
ready for any possible opportunity to escape.

I cry out in pain when he grabs my hair, jerking my head
backwards. He commands me to look at him but I shake my head, not wanting to
give him any control whatsoever. I don’t want to see the hatred in his eyes, I
want to keep mine closed and pretend this isn’t real.

My inability to comply angers him even more; he removes his
hand from between my legs and takes hold of my chin, trying to force me into
looking at him. When I move my head forward, hoping to butt him in the face, he
hits me. It’s far more painful than the slap I received from Sarah. I try to
kick him, scrambling to get away from him in any way that I can. My efforts are
futile and pointless and he relinquishes his hold on the bottle of vodka he’s
been cradling so he can use both of his hands to restrain me.

The tears are cascading down my face and my fists are
clenched, punching him in the chest again and again. I brace myself for the
horrendous violation when his predatory hands return to the front of my jeans.
I scream and flail against him, pleading with him to stop and let me go.

He ignores me, shaking me and yelling for me to be quiet.
He doesn’t care if I want this or not, he probably finds my struggles a huge
turn on. His fingers are in my underwear, probing awkwardly to find my entrance
whilst I try and clench my legs together.