Lost

  “Please...” I begged but my words were muffled. “Help!” I cried as I struggled for breath. But nothing changed. The thrusting continued and the pain intensified.

  My world began spinning as I gasped less and less air in my lungs. My face was pushed nearly through the pillow into the mattress and I couldn't move from the weight holding me down. I couldn't move away from the pain, and I couldn't move away from the reality that was crashing down all around me.

  This wasn't my Peter… and I had come for another man.

  Gagging, I cried out in repulsion as he continued. Begging silently, I stopped all fight and waited for him to finish me.

  I had been alone in my beautiful dream, but I was not alone in my nightmare. This was not Peter, and there was no Peter to save me. In that quick horrible moment of understanding I thought to myself, I didn't stay safe like Peter asked me to.

  I had failed Peter and I had failed myself. I had failed, so I let go and waited for the end.

  When I woke up again I was on my back no longer struggling. I woke up slowly and tried to see his eyes, but I couldn’t. I was held down and I was hurt. I could feel the ache all over me and inside me. I was throbbing everywhere and there was nothing I could do. I had become nothing more than pain as I woke, and I knew there was nothing left for me in that moment except closing my eyes and waiting for my death to take me.

  In that moment of nightmare panic I remember thinking for one split second I hope this doesn't hurt as I closed my eyes and waited for the pain. But it did hurt.

  I felt a lightning strike of pain rip through me, but luckily my mind stopped a second later. My mind didn't register what was happening after that one moment of searing pain. I didn't know what was happening to me, and I didn't care. I was ready to stop.

  So I let go completely as I imagined Peter holding me tightly in his arms easing me through the pain.

  *****

  When I gasped awake I realized I wasn't alone still. There was a man near me and another man across the room. I wasn't alone and I screamed with everything I had to try to get away from them.

  Moving, and shaking, and fighting everything I could, I screamed and fought nothing at all. Neither man moved, but they did speak.

  They spoke to me words I knew but couldn't understand. They spoke to me until my mom held me in her arms, and then I let go again.

  Crying out, I was scared and disgusted and hallow. I stared hard at the two men, wrapped in my mother’s arms, almost daring them to try to hurt me. I stared and cried. I was nothing but pain wrapped in a nightmare of misery.

  “Where's Peter?” I cried out.

  “Here's not here, Baby. What do you mean? Was he there?!” My mother gasped and cried.

  “He wasn't there! Oh, god. It wasn't Peter. It wasn't Peter and I thought it was, and I came! I came mommy, and I thought it was Peter! Oh, god... Help me...I had an orgasm and it wasn't him!” I screamed as she hugged me tighter.

  “Sophie. Stop! Listen to me-”

  “I came. I thought it was him and I thought we were together and I thought-” but I gagged. “I thought it was him inside me but it wasn’t. And I came. I was- I came with him because I thought it was Peter with me,” I moaned as I gagged again and cried.

  Shaking and crying, I couldn't believe my reality in that moment. Looking around, the 2 men still didn't move. No one moved but me as I struggled to breathe.

  Begging my mom to understand, I whispered, “I didn't mean to. I thought it was Peter...”

  “Ms. Morley, do you consent to a rape kit?”

  I remember that sudden shock of reality so clearly when the man spoke. I remember the word rape, and I remember the truth of that moment. I had been raped, but I had enjoyed it.

  The man against the wall spoke as he scribbled notes down. He spoke like he read the question he posed to me from his notebook. He spoke like it was the most obvious question in the world. He spoke like I was the most insignificant person in the world.

  He asked me a question I was completely incapable of answering because I didn't understand a single word he said to me beyond the word rape.

  “Ms. Morley, I'm Doctor Newman, and we'd like to help you. Can you answer a few questions?” He asked even as I was shaking my head no.

  “Sophie... please. Dr. Newman wants to help you but he has to do an exam so they can catch the person who hurt you,” my mom coaxed gently.

  But I wasn't stupid. I knew what the exam would be like. I knew he would see my shame, so I answered as best as I could.

  “I enjoyed it,” I spoke clearly, even as my mom flinched beside me. “I'm a slut. I'm sorry,” I almost cried but kept it together.

  “Sophie- you're confused, honey. You didn't know what was happening. Do you remember anything about-”

  “I remember everything about it,” I choked.

  “Ms. Morley, could you please answer a few questions,” the wall guy asked before finally introducing himself. “I’m Officer Sam Dolby and I'm the responding officer. I'd like to ask you a few questions while the memories are still fresh. Could you please answer a few questions?” He asked finally looking at me like I was actually a person. He looked at me like I was significant and I finally felt like a person again, so I nodded.

  “Did you know your attacker?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Sometimes women may know their attacker but not realize it until much later. Would you like a minute to think about it?”

  “No. I didn't know him and I didn't see him, I don't think. Do you know Peter Connor?” I asked suddenly. I was suddenly given the potential to get answers from a cop and I jumped at the chance.

  “I don't believe so. Was he your attacker?”

  Yelling, I couldn't hold in the revulsion. “No! Absolutely not! Peter would never do that to me, and it wasn't him.”

  “But you did believe he was there?”

  “Yes. But not really. I was confused and I had a dream, and I thought Peter was with me until after...” I faded out.

  Everything was spinning again, and I hurt everywhere. Looking down at myself, I saw I was in a hospital gown and I saw my shoulder and arm wrapped up. I saw what I looked like and I saw a little blood at the top of my gown.

  “What happened to me?”

  “You were attacked, Sophie,” my mom said gently.

  “I know. But I mean what happened. What's all this?”

  “Your shoulder was dislocated, but you suffered no series damage. We were able to clean the facial wounds and stitch you closed around your temple,” Dr. Newman said beside my bed.

  “My shoulder was dislocated?” I asked kind of laughing a little.

  “Sophie...” my mom warned with a gentle tone.

  “I'm sorry. But why dislocate my shoulder? Isn't that weird?” Though the question itself was weird and my calmness was weird, the whole thing seemed so weird to me, I couldn't help but ask anyway.

  “We believe you either moved at the last second, or the Perp heard your neighbor banging on your door and pulled your arm too hard from behind,” the officer said.

  The Perp? I remember how funny that sounded. The Perp- like on CSI again. I was surrounded by TV watching Fucktards everywhere, which made me laugh.

  Maybe my laughter seemed ridiculous, or stupid, or silly, but it made me feel better. The fact that I could look at these people and laugh at their stupidity made me feel better. I was better because I was still smart and together, while they were idiots who watched too much TV.

  “Ms. Morley. I still have some questions for you. I'd like to get an accurate description of the Perp,” he said again as I laughed harder, but he continued anyway. “I also need an accurate timeline of the events you remember.”

  “What's to remember? I was sleeping with Peter-in my head- having an amazing sexual experience, I thought. Then I was awake with someone else inside me, fucking the shit out of me from behind while I tried to breathe through the suffocation of having my face held down and forced int
o a pillow,” I said slightly bitchy as my mom actually released a sob beside me. “Sorry, mom. What else do you want? I was a pig who got off because I thought Peter was there, but he wasn't Peter.”

  “Sophie, you did nothing wrong. You have to-”

  “Why didn't you do a rape kit earlier?” I cut off my mother.

  “Because you were coherent off and on and if the patient is coherent for minutes at a time, we must get consent first, especially when the patient is combative, which you were initially,” the doctor answered.

  “I don't remember being coherent or combative. When was I awake?”

  “You were always awake, just confused, baby,” my mom explained.

  As Officer Dolby walked to my bedside, he finished off the story. “Your neighbor was talking to you through your front door, and I was the responding officer who talked you into opening the door for us. Do you remember talking to me until you unlocked your front door?”

  “No...”

  “The ambulance joined us shortly thereafter and we took you to the hospital immediately. You were completely coherent and even helped sit on the gurney yourself.” Finishing the story, Dolby said, “Your apartment is presently a crime scene.”

  “Why didn't you take my statement then if I was awake?”

  “I did. And now that you're no longer in shock, I'm taking it again to get a more accurate record of the events that took place,” he said patiently.

  “Did you get him?” But I think I already knew the answer I just didn't remember it.

  “No,” he shook his head as he asked again, “Would you consent to a rape kit?”

  “Okay. But I only want the doctor in here. No one else,” I said looking directly at my mom. If I was going to suffer another humiliation then I wanted no more witnesses. “Will you catch him if I do the kit?”

  “There's a good chance. Most rapists don't strike only once, and usually they strike someone they know. So between the DNA evidence, and the subsequent investigation, we usually find the connection to the victim, and inevitably, the attacker,” Officer Dolby answered my question seeming so insensitive and emotionless, it's like he read that answer directly from his notebook again.

  And the more I looked at him, I realized I didn't like him. He was too unfeeling and he seemed to lack the sensitivity or something for being the officer in charge of a rape investigation.

  “Do you know Peter Connor?”

  “You've asked me that already, and I said I wasn't aware.”

  “Okay. But you wouldn't tell me the truth anyway, would you?” I sighed my frustration.

  “Why wouldn't I tell you?”

  “Yes, why wouldn't you?” I smirked at him because I knew.

  “Sophie, you have to stop honey. You’re hurt and tired and you've been through so much tonight, you-”

  “Yes, I have mom. I’ve been through so much. So why don't you stop trying to calm me and let me deal with this however I can. Sound good?” I asked like a total bitch, but luckily, my mom just nodded at me silently.

  “Ms. Morley, can you tell me what happened tonight?”

  Again, as my backbone straightened and I felt more like myself, I sounded bitchy, but calm. “I can tell you everything, and I will. But I would like to get this exam over with first, and then I'll tell you anything you want to know. Is that good enough?”

  “Certainly. I'll just wait outside for Dr. Newman to finish up,” he agreed as he walked to the door.

  When my mom didn't move, I again asked her to leave. I asked her to leave me alone and I actually saw the pain and distress flash across her face before she stood and left me with an 'I'll be back as soon as you’re done.'

  But I didn't care. I felt irritated and angry, and sad, and disgusted. I was a whore and I couldn't believe I had sunk so low. I couldn't believe I was so desperate to be with Peter that I didn't even realize another man was fucking me from behind. I actually got off to someone hurting me because I wanted it to be Peter so badly.

  Sitting on the raised bed of my hospital room I was so sad thinking of my level of desperation and depravity, I finally started truly sobbing over the events of the night.

  Crying as the doctor moved around the room until he left for a minute to return with a nurse, I cried the whole time. I saw him prepare instruments, and I watched him wheel a metal cart near me. I saw him scrub and glove his hands, and I heard the nurse speaking to me as she handed me tissues, but I didn't understand anything in that moment other than my desperation.

  And I was lost.

  “I'm going to remove the sheet, and lift your gown, Ms. Morley,” the doctor said gently. “If you feel any discomfort at all, please tell me. I need to know about pain, and I need to catalogue anything you can tell me, okay?”

  “Ms. Morley, you just look at me, and everything will be over quickly, okay?” The nurse said beside me so I nodded at her.

  I waited while the doctor pulled me gently lower to the end of the bed to lift my legs and place them in the stirrups, and I remember singing in that moment inside my head to drown out the pain of my nightmare. It’s just a Pap. It's just a Pap. I do this once a year. It's just a Pap. It’s just a Pap. It'll be over soon. La la-la la-la-laaaa.

  “Ms. Morley, you have-”

  “Oh god... Sophie, please.”

  “Sophie, are you in any discomfort right now?”

  “Yes…” I moaned.

  “Can you explain where?”

  “Everywhere. Inside and outside. Everything hurts right now. Please hurry,” I said as I heard my foot start shaking in the stirrup as my anxiety climbed.

  “Sophie... Breathe deeply. You're struggling against me, and I want to be quick for you,” he said again gently, as the nurse took my hand and squeezed it.

  So I closed my eyes as the tears slowly spilled from my eyelids onto the pillow, and I tried to relax everything inside me.

  I tried to let go of the tension holding me still with my legs pulled tightly closed. I tried to forget a man was looking at me and seeing what was done to me, and I tried to forget a man had taken me earlier and saw everything he did to me while he did it.

  “Sophie... Almost done. Are you aware of any anal penetration?”

  “Um... No. I don't know. But I'd feel it right? Everything hurts, but not there, and I've never done that, so I'd feel it, right?” I begged through my near hysteria.

  “I'm going to take an anal swab anyway, just to be sure, but I don't think your anus has been compromised,” he said so seriously, I actually found it a little funny.

  “A compromised anus? That sounds like a porn movie,” I giggled to my horror.

  I was totally losing it then. I knew it, and Dr. Newman, and nurse whatever knew it. I was laughing at stupidity when I should have been crying in horror. Dr. Newman continued on though like I wasn't being ridiculous.

  “Sophie... You have a small vaginal tear, which I'm going to leave alone because stitches are often worse for potential infection in that sensitive area. You also have much internal swelling, which though uncomfortable should lessen in a day or two. And as I said, I don't believe you were abused anally, but we'll know for sure after the swab,” he said clinically.

  “Okay... Thank you.”

  “I’m going to take a few photographs of you now quickly. And after I scrape under your fingernails I'll be giving you antibiotics to fight infection, plus the morning after pill to prevent a pregnancy. I'll follow up with a prescription to fight any potential STD's until your blood work and the test results come back, which should be in a day or two, at the latest. The hospital rushes test results after a sexual assault so the victim doesn't have the added stress and worry of STD's as well,” he said finally sitting further away from my nasty vagina.

  “Oh, that's good. I'll probably have a lot more to think about anyway,” I laughed again.

  “We have a rape counsellor on sight, waiting to speak with you after the Detective does, and I'd like to administer more pain medication once you're through
speaking with Officer Dolby,” he said after raising the table end and lowering my legs gently while covering me up again with the sheet.

  “I don't want to talk to him.”

  “Sophie,” the nurse soothed. “You have to talk to the Detective to catch the person who hurt you. You should try hard to remember any detail you can, so it'll be easier to find the assailant.”

  “I don't want to talk to him. I don't like him,” I cried.

  “We can get another Detective if you'd be more comfortable. A female?”

  And nodding my head, I whispered, “Yes, please...”

  After Dr. Newman took some photos of my body and face, he gave me some medication- the morning after pill I think. He then recommended I speak with the Detectives quickly, so he could give me the pain meds I needed. He didn't like the fact that I wasn't as numb as I should be for the shoulder adjustment but he knew I couldn't be mentally impaired in any way while making an official statement, at least that’s what he said.

  Eventually, a female Detective joined me in my room alone, after I insisted my mom stay in the hallway. I loved my mom, and she was a comfort to me totally, but I honestly couldn't handle telling the police what had happened with her looking at me. I just couldn't do it to either of us.

  Detective Dent was much better than Dolby. She was straight forward and professional, but she seemed to have some emotion as well. She nodded when I cried, and she was patient with me when I paused. She listened and took notes, but she seemed to still be emotionally in the room with me, as I told her the truth.

  “I didn't know I wasn't dreaming at first, and I had an orgasm from whatever he was doing to me, but then I woke up more and I was being held down against my back with my face pushed hard into my pillow, nearly suffocating me, and then I couldn't really breathe and I think I passed out because I woke up on my back just before... he finished.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “Never.”

  “Did he speak to you ever?”