Whitney Blake – Part One

“I heard you got kicked out,” someone’s voice stole her attention away from the selection of drinks she was browsing. His breath on her neck was hot and reeking of booze and body odor. She recognized him immediately from school; a jock and notorious for being an asshole. “You need a place to stay? My bed’s available.”

Whitney Blake ignored him and continued to make her way through the liquor store with her water tucked close to her and trying to find were the cold sandwiches were. Her stomach was growling and her throat was so dry she felt as if it was closing up with every passing second.

She was hoping her living situation would stay quiet, from shame or fear of being caught by social services, she wasn’t sure. But according to the douche that was still trailing her down the aisles, her secret was no longer secret. Her heart rate went up at the thought of everyone in their town knowing why she was suddenly living in a tent behind her old elementary school.

If people knew, it would damage her mom’s life beyond repair. Not to mention an unwanted return from her father. It’d been at least seven months now since they’d both seen him, but it still hadn’t been enough time to lick the wounds he left behind. 

Finally reaching the frozen food, she sighed in relief and chose the cheapest turkey club rather than the largest. He was still close behind her making crude suggestions about what they could do if she came over.

Whitney whipped around to face him, “Back the fuck up.”

She wasn’t one to raise her voice, but her fatigue got the best of her. Anger flashed behind his eyes as he closed the distance between them in a few quick steps. She put her hands up to push his chest away, which was large and sweaty even through his t-shirt and gaudy sports jacket.

He grabbed her wrists roughly and pulled her against him. Stumbling forward onto him, she dropped her water and sandwich, his stench filling her nose. Whitney hesitated, but brought her knee up sharply, hitting him right between the knees. He grunted and fell forward, releasing her hands and clutching his so called manhood.

Sweeping up her fallen goods, she ran to the front counter slapping down a ten dollar bill and yelled at the cashier to keep the change. As she flung open the door, she crashed hard into another sweaty man, and ricocheted off, landing hard on her butt.

“Whoa,” the man’s voice shouted, “Watch it, Blake!” Looking up in alarm of hearing her own name, she recognized yet another jock from school. His name was Charlie. “What’d you do to Jason?”

Still on the ground, her snacks strewn every which way, she turned around to see Jason, apparently, suddenly walking towards them. He looked even more enraged as he pushed open the door, violently ringing the bell above.

“You little bitch,” Jason spit through his teeth and yanked her up off the ground by her arms. His grip was surprisingly stronger than moments ago and before she knew what was really happening, he was jerking her around the corner.

She started fighting against him panic rising in her throat, and she almost got an arm loose when his buddy was grabbing her other arm. They dragged her behind the building quickly where there was no one in site and only two or three cars left in the lot. A scream grew in her chest and escaped her throat as powerful as she could manage before it was cut off by a swift blow to the jaw.

Black spots in her vision instantly blinded her and an aching pain spread through her jaw, rattling her teeth. She’d grown up receiving countless beatings, but this was a new kind of fear. One that wasn’t instilled by her parents.

They would violate her in ways she never imagined; in ways she had always prayed God would spare her from.

Trying not to let the terror paralyze her body, Whitney used every ounce of strength in her bones to break free. Thrashing, biting, clawing, she tried to get away. But her attempts were futile.

This was actually happening. 

*Photo Credit*

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