The girl standing on the corner didn’t move. Her shiny boots reflected the harsh streetlight. The others around her were talking and laughing. As far as she was concerned, there wasn’t much to laugh about.
She was nervous. The street where she was standing was one her mother always said was dangerous.
Thank God, my mother can’t see me now.
Debbie hung her head in shame. She was shivering despite the fake fur jacket. When she picked it out of the group’s closet earlier, she honestly thought it might be warm.
At least it keeps some of me covered.
The rest of her outfit could only be described as trashy. The hot pink tube top paired with a pair of daisy dukes and hot pink tights looked silly in the mirror. She felt sillier wearing them. She wondered what anyone out here thought of her appearance.
Pretty sure the men cruising up and down this street are only thinking about what lay underneath.
Debbie shut down the rest of those thoughts. Despite her age, she knew a thing or two about what men thought.
They’re all pigs. They only want one thing, and they’ll do anything to get it. Even if they have to rape you.
She came to that conclusion honestly. Last year when her mother’s boyfriend forced himself on her, a chain of events was set in motion. Said chain put her out on this street, dressed in clothes she despised.
Her memories of the night he crawled into her bed were the stuff nightmares are made of. He’d been drinking and arguing with her mother. Their fight ended with her mother drinking herself into an alcohol-induced deep sleep.
Debbie stayed in her room while their fight raged in the rest of the house. No matter where her mother went in the house, he followed her to continue the argument. It was horrible.
Did he do it on purpose? Was his ultimate goal to get Mom so drunk she’d pass out?
When some sleep finally came that night, it was thin. He entered her room as quietly as a cat. And like an old tom looking for some heat, he crawled into her bed.
She woke up as soon as he crossed the threshold into her room. Barely breathing, she felt his weight on her bed. He was behind her, and she felt his hardness. It was only seconds before he grabbed her.
His hands were immediately all over her. Debbie had only been even close to this with her boyfriend during her freshman year of high school. A virgin, she knew she’d have to fight for her virtue.
Over her pajamas, he squeezed her ass, cupped her breasts and tried to kiss the back of her neck. She finally tried to twist from his grasp, but he only exerted more pressure.
Debbie didn’t want to yell or scream. The walls of the apartment she lived in were thin, and she didn’t want anyone to be a witness to this scene.
When he tried to slip his hands under the elastic of her pajama bottoms, she squirmed and slapped at his hands. He then slid his hands under her top and squeezed her breasts.
Debbie was horrified when she felt the familiar stirring of desire. She didn’t know that her body would respond to the actions of a rapist. No one told her that it was natural and nothing to be ashamed about.
She was more than embarrassed, and she wondered if she’d done something to entice this dirty old man.
Three years before, after her mother allowed Jim to move in, she voiced her opinion. For the first time in her life, she was disappointed with her mother.
“This isn’t your house. I decide who will live here. You just remember that young lady.”
The pain caused by those words still stung. She hadn’t been able to name her fear when they talked that afternoon. But she suspected something like this would happen.
His new attempt to get his hand down her pants drew her back into the moment and away from her memories. This time he was trying to get in the front, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel the wetness between her legs.
Once more, she pushed him away. And so, he returned to the massaging of her breasts. It was as if he knew it gave her pleasure. She was scared. It seemed as though there was nothing she could do to put a stop to this.
Suddenly, his hands stopped. They both heard the noises coming from the living room.
Her mother was awake.
Debbie was surprised to feel fear. Was she really afraid of what her mother would think if she saw them in bed together? Turns out she should’ve been.
Jim quickly got up and did his best to hide his erection. Her mother came in through the open door and looked at Debbie on the bed, and Jim was hiding in the corner.
“You little bitch. I should’ve known. You just can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”
In horror, Debbie cringed as her mother walked towards her with her hand held up high. When the slaps and punches rained down on her, she thought she would die.
And then, her inner being stood up. Anger coursed through her veins.
“I’m a bitch? What about you? I told you not to let this creep live in our house. Do you know what he was doing? Do you even care that I was almost raped in my own bed? I certainly don’t want him, mother. You are more than welcome to him.”
Back in the present, her heart hurt to think of her mother’s betrayal. The cold wind was whipping at her ankles. When she saw a car pull over to the curb, she approached, hoping only to get warm.
“Looking for a date, mister? I’ve got something special. For twenty-five dollars, I’ll show you.”
© 2020, MustangPatty. All rights reserved.
Hi, I’m an Indie Author. I write Legal and Psychological thrillers, short stories of all kinds, and I love to help other writers.
I’m glad to be here
I currently live in Salem, Oregon. I’ve lived all over the US and in parts of Germany. I’m originally from New Jersey.
Looking forward to being a part of this community,