by Amy Cross
“BarraBuy?” the Rob guy asks. “I'm not sure I've been there.”
“It opens next month,” I tell him. “I already got hired.”
“Not bad for a girl from the trailer park.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, just... You wanna work your way up from the dirt, huh?”
Turning to him, I suddenly realize what this is all about. I don't know how he knows where I live, maybe he overheard me talking to Glenda earlier, but he obviously thinks I'm some stringy little whore who'll do anything for money. He probably thinks he can get my legs wide open in the back seat of his truck, fuck me, then shove me out the side door and drive off, leaving me back in the dirt where I belong.
“So what do you want?” he asks, glancing at my chest again and, I swear to God, licking his lips in anticipation. “Like I said, I'm a well-connected guy, so I reckon I can help you out. Of course, we'd have to come to an arrangement about my compensation, but that wouldn't be a problem.”
“I could suck your cock,” I tell him.
He opens his mouth to reply, before starting to laugh.
“I could let you fuck me in the ass,” I continue, “and just generally turn my body over to you so you can do whatever you want with me. Or, you know, another option would be that you could fuck off and leave me alone, and I'll punch you square in that thick, self-righteous face if you ever come near me again.”
“Is that right?” he asks, grinning as he takes a step back. “I like a girl with some fight in her.”
“I'm getting my friend and taking her home,” I continue.
“I think Dave might have something to say about that,” he says, turning to look over toward the dumpsters. “Looks like he's getting some action already.”
“As if,” I reply, looking toward Glenda. “They're just kissing, don't get your -”
Stopping suddenly, I see that Glenda's legs are wide open and the guy has her pinned against the dumpster.
“Oh God,” I mutter, feeling a wave of disappointment at such a horrible sight. “Really? Seriously?”
“Looks like fun,” Robt continues, stepping closer to me. “I could use a little of that myself. Hey, how old did you say you are?”
“I didn't,” I reply, filled with disgust as I turn away from Shannon. “I'm twenty-six.”
“Huh.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Well, that sounds to me like a sweet-spot between innocence and experience. What do you say we -”
“Go to hell,” I shout, stepping back, “and die!”
He laughs. “Well, if you put it like that, maybe I should just -”
Suddenly he swings at me, and I only just manage to duck out of the way in time to avoid getting punched in the face. As he staggers past, I aim my knee at his groin and hit him as hard as I can manage. He lets out a pained gasp and drops to the ground, and I step back as I hear footsteps coming closer.
“Fucking bitch!” Rob screams.
“You want more?” I sneer, stepping toward him.
“You've got problems!” he shouts. “You've got serious fucking anger management issues!”
“Oh yeah?” Grabbing him by the collar, I pull him closer and for a moment I consider causing some serious damage to his face. I can feel my anger boiling up in my chest, threatening to overwhelm me, and I need to find some way to let it out. At the same time, I know I'm supposed to hold back.
“Dumb whore,” he mutters. “You're out of control, you're a -”
Slamming my knee into his chin, I send him thudding back down to the ground.
“What happened?” Glenda asks, grabbing my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I'm fine,” I mutter, watching as the bastard struggles to his feet. “A little nauseous, maybe, but I'm sure it'll wear off.”
“You really did a number on him,” she continues, looking down at Rob as he struggles to sit up. “Jesus, Shannon, I thought you'd got your temper under control these days.”
“Sometimes I get provoked,” I mutter darkly, before turning to her. “Come on, Mother Teresa, we should get home.”
“About that...” She bites her bottom lip when I turn to her. “The thing is, Shannon, I think I might go home with Dave, if that's okay with you.” She pauses for a moment, and it's patently clear what she's going to do with him. “I was thinking maybe we could drop you off at the crossroads and you could walk the last bit back to the trailer park, or maybe Rob might drive you home.”
“Rob's an asshole,” I reply, shocked that she's going to abandon me, “and he's drunk.”
“Whore!” Rob shouts, as if to prove my point. He steps toward me, but Dave holds him back.
“Please,” Glenda hisses, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from them, “I have a really good feeling about this. Dave's kinda nice, once you get to know him. I'm sorry Rob's such a... Well, it's a real drag, but you wouldn't want me to pass up the chance at something special, would you? It seems crazy, but I think Dave might be really, really good for me, and I can't let him go. Please don't hate me for this.”
Sighing, I realize that she's fallen for yet another random guy. It'll play out the same way it always plays out, but I've learned over the years that it's impossible to talk her out of these decisions.
“I'll walk,” I say finally, pulling away from her. “Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“What choice do I have?” I ask, hoping against hope that she'll stop being a selfish bitch and just come with me.
“Thanks,” she says with a grin, putting her arms around me for a drunken hug. “You're the best! I knew you'd understand!”
I smile, but I'm not really in the mood to keep telling her everything's okay so – instead of letting the hug continue – I slip free and take a step back.
“Call me tomorrow, okay?” I remind her. “Let me know you're good.”
She winks at me. “Oh, I think I'll be better than good.”
“Call me! If you don't call, I'll assume you're rotting by the side of the road somewhere.”
Without answering, she turns and stumbles away, quickly linking arms with that Dave guy as they start walking in a drunken, soon-to-be-fucking kinda way toward the lights of town. I swear to God, I can't count the number of times Shannon has done something like this, and the worst part for me is that I know in a few days' time she'll be in floods of tears, telling me that she was so sure this guy would be different, that he'd actually stick around once he'd got what he wanted. I really, really hope I don't end up accompanying her on another trip to a clinic to deal with the results, but I guess that's the most likely outcome.
“Dumb bitch,” I mutter. I mean, I love her, she's my best friend in the whole world, but it's true. And I'm the only person in the whole world who's allowed to say something like that about her.
Suddenly I sense a presence next to me, and I turn just in time to see that Rob is still lurking. From the leering look in his eyes, I can immediately tell that he's decided to give me another try.
“So we got off on the wrong foot, huh?” he says, swaying a little. “How about we go back to my place and see if we can't set that right?”
“I'm busy.”
“Oh yeah? Doing what?”
“I dunno. I'll find something.”
He laughs. “I like you. You've got more grit than that other girl, and you've got some brains behind that pretty face. How about we talk seriously for a while?” Fumbling through his pockets, he pulls out a set of keys, although he immediately drops them and has to pick them up. “I'm gonna drive us home -”
“You're drunk,” I point out.
“I'm a very good driver.”
Reaching toward him, I try to snatch the keys so I can toss them away, but he pulls back just in time.
“What's wrong?” he asks. “Worried about me?”
“I don't give a crap about you,” I reply. “I'm just thinking about anyone who happens to wander into your path while you're drunkenly piloting that metal
death machine.” I try to grab the keys again, but this time he uses the opportunity to reach out and squeeze my left breast. Instinctively, I pull back and slap him as hard as I can manage. “Fucking asshole!” I shout.
“Hey -”
“You're lucky I don't punch your goddamn teeth out!” I hiss, stepping toward him and pushing him back. For a moment, I feel as if my anger is going to boil over, but fortunately I manage to rein it in at the last second.
“Woah!” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Can the anger, little lady. Looks like I found your fuse.”
“Don't fucking touch me,” I sneer, “or I'll wipe the floor with your ass!”
He stares at me for a moment before shrugging and turning to limp toward his truck. “I hope you know I'll be thinking about you later. If you ever change your mind -”
“Go screw yourself,” I say firmly.
As he drunkenly climbs into his truck, I can't help thinking I should find some other way to keep him off the road, but I guess I'm running out of options. He clearly can't quite see the ignition properly, but finally he manages to get the engine running and, a moment later, the truck lurches back a few meters before he manages to get it into the right gear.
“Dead God,” I mutter, watching as he struggles to drive across the parking lot, “I don't exactly believe in you, but please make sure this asshole doesn't knock anyone over.”
The truck almost makes the parking lot's exit before veering right and bumping over the curb, finally (more or less) making it out onto the road. I watch as he drives around the corner, but after a moment I see him coming to a stop just past the line of trees. As the seconds tick past, I can't shake the feeling that he's actually waiting for me, as if he figures that he still has a shot to get me into bed. The thought of going anywhere near him again is disgusting, but unfortunately he's parked right by the side of the road, and unless I want to walk the long way home all the way around the far side of the forest...
Glancing across the parking lot, I see the dark trees ahead.
“Never walk through the forest,” I remember myself telling my little sister just a few weeks ago. “Promise me you won't. It's not safe in there.”
“Shit,” I mutter, as I realize that thanks to the drunken asshole parked nearby, I'm going to break my own rule.
After glancing toward the road and seeing that he's still in place, I sigh and make my way across the empty lot until I reach the edge of the forest. Staring at the trees, I try to tell myself that there's nothing too bad in there, that I'm being way too cautious. I mean, it's just a forest, right? It's just trees arranged all higgledy-piggledy and patches of soil between them, and sure it's dark but I'm not a moron, and I seriously doubt there's anyone else lurking out there at this time of night. There's a part of me that still wants to just take the road the long way around, but I wouldn't be home before dawn and right now I just want to get to my bed.
“Fuck it,” I say finally, clambering over the dirt mound and making my way into the forest. “What's the worst that could happen?”
III
It's the pain that hits me first, slicing up from my groin to my shoulders and bringing a kind of bright ripping sensation to my head, forcing me to wake up with a shocked gasp.
When I open my eyes, I find that I'm face-down on the road, with early morning sunlight catching the dew on the nearby grass. I wait, hoping that somehow I'll work out what's happening, but the whole world seems eerily calm, almost as if I'm the only person left. No cars in the distance, no plans passing overhead, no voices anywhere. Finally I start rolling onto my back, ready to -
Suddenly I let out a pained groan as I realize that my entire body is burning with pain. I take a series of short, shallow breaths and wait as the pain settles, and then I try to sit up. The pain returns but this time I push through until I'm able to lean on my elbows, at which point I'm able to see that my clothes are caked in patches of thick, smeared mud. Down at the bottom of my shirt, part of the fabric looks to have been ripped away entirely, and when I look at my right hand I find that it's covered in fresh red scratches.
“What the...”
I take a deep breath, even though it hurts like hell.
“What happened?” I whisper, sitting up straight and examining my arms, only to find several more cuts and bruises.
Reaching up and touching the side of my face, I can feel mud drying on the flesh, while there seem to be a few more damaged spots where I've been scratched. I turn and look around, but all I see is the bare, empty road stretching in either direction, and the line of trees towering above me, signaling the start of the forest. I recognize this spot, it's about a mile north of the trailer park, but...
How the hell did I get here?
“Fuck it,” I remember myself saying as I strode into the dark forest last night, “what's the worst that could happen?”
And then...
And then -
Nothing.
It's as if every moment between entering the forest and waking up here has been completely wiped from my mind. I struggle to my feet, feeling more flashes of pain, but still I have no memories of last night after leaving the parking lot. I've been drunk before, of course, so I know what a blackout feels like, but this feels different. This time, it's more like no memories were laid down in my head at all, as if the period of time between then and now simply didn't happen. Besides, I wasn't drunk last night, I was just a little wobbly. I take a couple of steps toward the edge of the forest, staring up at the trees, but I have absolutely no memory of being in there, or of anything happening to me, or of stumbling out and collapsing on the road.
Fuck it, this isn't like me.
Glenda, sure. She's had her fair share of wild nights with no memory, but I'm not that crazy and besides, I swear I stayed fairly sober last night. Checking my watch, I see that the face is damaged, and when I tilt it to get a better view of the hands I realize that they're not moving. Holding my wrist up to get a better view, I see that my watch stopped at exactly 5:37am. Judging by how high the sun has climbed in the sky already, it must be almost seven by now.
Hearing the sound of a car approaching, I turn just in time to see a smart-looking SUV headed this way. For a moment I'm too dazed to even get out of the way, but I finally manage to move off to the side of the road just as the SUV slows and comes to a stop next to me with a concerned-looking woman staring out.
“Are you okay?” she asks cautiously.
I nod, not really knowing what I should say.
She stares for a moment longer, looking me up and down. “Are you sure about that?”
Glancing down at the front of my shirt, I realize I must look like a total mess. “Um...”
“Did something happen to you?”
“No,” I reply quickly. Probably too quickly. “I mean... No, definitely not.”
“So...” Another pause. She glances both ways along the road, and then up toward the forest. “Are you all alone out here?”
“It's not a big deal,” I tell her. “I'm almost home.”
“Do you live at the trailer park?”
“Yeah, but that's okay. I'm, like, not far.”
“I'm headed that way,” she replies, reaching across and opening the passenger-side door. “Let me give you a ride.”
I shake my head.
“You're hurt,” she continues.
“No, I'm not hurt,” I tell her, “I swear, I'm just...” Aware that I must be coming over like some kind of rambling fool, I swallow hard as I try to come up with a convincing cover story. “I just had a crazy night, you know? That's how it is with us trailer park girls, we like to get wasted and get a little rough and...” I pause, hoping she'll just buy what I'm saying and leave. “This is a normal night for me,” I continue, figuring that someone with a fancy car like this probably sees me as a piece of trash anyway. I reach over and push the car door shut. “You've got no right to judge.”
“I'm not judging,” she replies, with clear concern
in her eyes, “I just... Won't you let me at least give you a ride home? I'm a doctor, I could look at those scratches and -”
“I can't afford a doctor.”
“You don't have to afford one,” she replies, reaching into her pocket and pulling out some kind of I.D. card. “See?” she continues, holding it up for me to see. “I'm Doctor Mary Campion, I live and work just a few miles from here and I'd really like it if you'd let me give you a quick check-over.” She waits for me to reply, before setting the card on her dashboard. “Have you been assaulted?” she asks finally.
“No,” I snap back, although I immediately realize that I actually have no idea. What if someone slipped someone into my drink and then followed me into the forest?
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah, I'm sure,” I tell her, unable to keep from getting a little defensive. “Listen, lady, I don't know about you, but I've got shit to be getting on with, so if you don't mind...”
I pause for a moment, before turning and starting to walk toward the trailer park. My right leg is hurting like a bitch, forcing me to limp, but I figure this random doctor woman will just give up and drive away soon enough. I mean, why would a complete stranger bother to stick around? Unfortunately, a moment later she drives slowly to catch me and then keeps pace, clearly determined to help.
“I'm worried about you,” she says finally.
“Don't be,” I mutter.
“You look like you're in a bad way.”
Sighing, I keep looking straight ahead. Eye contact will only encourage her.
“I think you've been assaulted,” she continues, “and I think it's natural for you to not want to talk about it, but I also think you need some medical attention. Come on, there are no strings attached, I'm really just trying to help.”
“I've heard that before,” I mutter under my breath.
“Please -”
“Fuck it,” I add, realizing that there's only one way to get rid of her: I'm going to have to scare her off. Turning, I stare at her with my meanest expression and then I lean through her open window and reach for her neck. “Give me your fucking car!” I hiss, hoping to scare the living crap out of her.