I walk down 30th street for a few blocks and see a sign pointing to a set of stairs going into the ground. I wander down and am greeted by a toll station. I read the signs and figure out I have to take the N train. Why didn’t they just call them trains for heaven’s sake? I ask myself as I pay the toll and go through the turnstiles. I find a whole new experience awaiting me past those things! I’ve never liked basements but this was a whole train station below ground. I look around, dumbfounded as the train noisily screeches to a halt. I slip in through the open doors and find a place to sit among other passengers. Gripping the handrail, my breath is stolen from me as we head off through the dark tunnel toward Manhattan. So I hope.
I strike up a conversation with a woman nearby. She’s got a fussy baby in her arms and looks to be about my age. Turned out she was only fifteen and the baby was hers. Talking to her made me miss my little guy down in Texas. I made up my mind to go see him soon as I had enough money for the bus.
I’m fascinated by the subway. I’ve never imagined a train like this in my life. I start thinking about how people take this type of thing for granted. I’m lost in daydreams when the girl gets off and a man sits down beside me.
Stepping into the darkness from the subway and squinting as my eyes adjust to the change of light, I hear a man’s voice behind me. My blood turns to ice. It’s Hollywood and he looks pissed. Frantically I look for someone to help me. He grabs me by the hair and drags me into the alley as I scream for help. He drags me, screaming and scratching, behind a pile of trash where he slams me against the wall, face first. He’s growling at me and pressing my face against the bricks, my cheek and nose scratched by their roughness. He’s telling me to shut up or he’ll gut me, that I owe him money and he wants it. He’s growling in my ear now, asking me if I want his cock in my ass again, if that’s why I dissed him, because I wanted him mad like that. I’m sobbing now, begging him to stop, to leave me alone. A part of me is numb as the other part struggles against his grip. His body presses me against the wall and I feel his hardness against my ass, my now naked breasts pressed painfully against the bricks as well. He thrusts against my back as he’s talking, his voice growing lustful as he continues to grip my hair. I can feel blood trickling down my neck from the gouges on my cheek and I know, without a doubt, that he’s going to rape me again.
A mans voice behind us gets his attention and he turns with an animalistic growl. The man is softly telling Hollywood to let me go. Hollywood says he’s my pimp and the man needs to leave us or he’s a dead man. The man looks at me and frowns. I plead with him to help me but he turns and walks away. Hollywood turns to me again and shoves me into the pile of garbage. He lunges at me and tears at my pants, trying to pull them off my flailing legs. I’m biting him hard, struggling against him, trash flying with each turn of my body. Something sharp bites into the back of my left shoulder and stops me, momentarily. He takes this opportunity to strip my pants off and slip between my now naked legs. I pull my shoulder off the spike and wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him into me suddenly. His thick shaft skewers me fully and I cry out in surprise. He ravages me, biting my shoulder as he rams into me with a grunt, my shoulder again impaled on the sharp object in the trash. He fucks me hard for a few minutes then pulls out and turns me over, shoving my face into the black bags of garbage. My hand finds the sharp thing and grabs ahold, pulling it from the depths of refuse. It’s a screwdriver with a flat tip, covered in blood.
He rams his thickness into my ass, my scream of pain muffled by the bags/ I can’t breathe because the bags are pressed against my face. I shove myself backwards to get a breath and he mistakes the movement for acceptance and grabs my hips. I pull forward fast and turn halfway over, his cock deep in my ass. With the screwdriver in hand, I swing my fist toward his face. The tip of the tool drives into his right eye and he screams in pain before falling backward. I stumble to my feet, looking at him as he screams. Someone comes running down the alley and I hear a police radio behind me. Everything seems to be moving really slow, like a dream. The officer rushes to Hollywood who has gone silent. He looks at me, questioningly and I fall to my knees, sobbing.
The ambulance screams into the night, its lights flashing into the distance as I answer questions shot at me by the officer. Yes I knew him, no it wasn’t consensual, yes he raped me, yes, no, yes, no all the questions answered in monotone because I’m in shock. I’m shivering though I’ve been able to at least put my pants back on, thankfully. The second ambulance arrives and they settle me onto the gurney as the officer continues asking questions. He gets done and tells the driver to go on as the doors close. The attendants are curtious and efficient, slipping an iv in my arm with practiced ease.
Soon enough we arrive at the hospital and I’m taken into a quiet room where they do a rape kit and tend my injuries, giving me a tetanus shot because of the wounds. My shoulder wound is irrigated and sutured shut. A code is called a few times while I’m tended to but the doctor doesn’t leave me till he’s done. His hands are warm and gentle, his face somehow familiar to me. I’m never alone here, they have a rape hotline volunteer with me. She’s really nice and offers to get me things after the exam is done.
The doctor says he wants to keep me in over night to keep me safe, if there are any problems with shock. They take me up to my room and the volunteer asks if she should stay. I tell her no, I was just going to go to sleep. She leaves and I drift off to sleep in the quiet of the warm room.
I’m watching cartoons and eating breakfast when the officer comes in. He turns off the television and sits on the chair by my bed. I can tell by the look on his face that something is wrong. He asks me a few questions about Hollywood then sighs before telling me that he was dead. I ask if I’ll be charged with anything and he says no, it was self-defense. He then asks me where I’m from. I tell him and he nods and says they will get me back to Denver and I can’t leave the hospital till they get me a ticket. I lay back after he leaves and think about what I’d done. I killed a man….