But I got away.
I still don’t know how. I remember the rustle of his shorts as he worked to remove them and keep me in place. In that moment, something in me snapped. I remember biting his shoulder. I remember tasting blood. I kneed and kicked as hard as I could, eventually connecting with the one place I was aiming for. But even as he crumbled in pain, I was still pinned beneath his weight. Yet somehow, I managed to get him off of me and run before he had the chance to fully recover. I still don’t understand how I had the strength to overpower him, even in his momentarily weakened state. I guess it must have been adrenaline. I’ve heard people say that when in crisis a person can show immense strength.
Either way, I’m thankful that I got away unscathed, for the most part.
I stay in the shower until the water runs cold before getting out. I dress in the clothes Link gave me, having to tighten the string a good deal on the lounge pants in order to keep them up. And while I don’t love the idea of wearing someone else’s undergarments, after careful inspection to ensure they actually are clean, I decide I’d rather wear someone else’s than not wear any at all. Especially considering I’m staying in a house with two men I do not know. I purposely try not to think about where they came from.
Shutting off the lights on my way to the bed, I peel back the thick navy comforter and quickly slide in, pulling the blanket all the way up to my chin.
My body is exhausted but my brain feels like it’s still running a million miles a minute. I roll to my side, pulling my knees to my stomach and curl into a ball.
I suck in a deep breath through my nose, feeling like I might break out into a full-fledged panic attack at any moment. The magnitude of the situation I have found myself in is starting to take hold. I snuggle deeper into the blankets and squeeze my eyes shut, praying that when I open them again, this will have all been some bad dream.