She Didn't Deserve This

The pain had been excruciating. It was like nothing Amy has ever felt in her life. Chase raped her. No one heard her screams. No one said anything when she slowly limped down the stairs with her hair messed up, with the bruises that were on her face, the tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t think of a reason he would do that to her. She never did anything to him. She never did anything to anyone. She didn’t deserve this. No one did.

But he was going to pay. Amy knew that. She was going to make it happen. She was never a violent person. If someone said something mean or nasty, or tripped her while she walked to class, all she would do was walk away. But not this time. This wasn’t like a little push or name-calling. He took her innocence. He forcefully made her give up something she didn’t want to. Something she held dear to her heart.

Amy limped towards the kitchen, no one paying any attention to her at all. She searched the countertops and the drawers to find what she was looking for. Then she found it. A knife. A chef’s knife to be exact. The metal knife glistened in the light. She glanced around, making sure no one was looking at her while she slide the knife into her skirt, pulling her shirt over it.

She eyes skimmed over the shelves for pain reliever.

“Jack pot,” Amy whispered as she grabbed a bottle of Advil. She popped three in her mouth before closing the bottle and walking out of the house.

She had to find the jackass. And she will. Oh, she will. There was a figure out of the corner of her eye that was walking fast, his, or her, head covered by a hood.

It was him. Amy was sure of it. She stayed as far away from him as she could without losing sight of him. Amy felt nothing but anger. She didn’t feel fear, or sadness, or anything like that. All she felt was anger and that she had to get revenge for what had happened.

She followed him to a crappy part of the city, where a lot of drug deals go on. This area was always on the news, talking about the people that were caught with drugs, or about people being shot because a drug deal went bad.

She watched him walk into a brick building, most likely his apartment. Amy went to the back where there was a fire escape. She looked up at all the windows, hoping to get a glance of him to know which floor he was on. She soon found it he lived on the third floor. She saw him get undress, though she looked away because she didn’t want to see the rapist’s body.

She waited until she heard his shower kick on; he had left the bedroom window open.

“Not a smart move,” Amy mumbled as she dragged a trashcan over to where the fire escape was, cringing at the sound of the scraping metal. She climbed up the trashcan and up the fire escape, going through the window.

The bedroom was messy. Clothes were everywhere, plates and bowls laid on the end tables and on the floor. Amy wrinkled her nose in disgust. The shower was still on so she knew he was still under the waterfall.

Amy sat down on the bed, scooting over so she was sitting against the wall. She took the knife out of her pocket and waited. And waited. She didn’t care how long she waited for him.

The water shut off, indicating that the man that will soon be dead is out of the shower. The knife was clutched in her hand, sweat filled her palm as she nervously waited for what was about to come.

But she wanted to do this. He caused her pain, now it’s her turn to cause him pain.

It was her turn to take something away from him like he did to her. Only she wasn’t going to take his virginity forcefully… She was going to take his life instead. But how was she going to do it?

Should she just stab him? Or should she do what they did in the olden days, eye for an eye. Because he took her hymen, she could take his penis. That would sure kill him, and if it didn’t he wouldn’t be able to use it anymore, which was a plus.

The bathroom door open to reveal Chase in just a part of boxers, drying his hair with a white towel. He stopped short when he saw the girl from the party sitting on his bed, holding a knife.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” He walked around the bed with caution seeing the sharp object her hand.

“You really shouldn’t leave your window open when you’re not in the room, someone can easily break in and kill you,” Amy laughed, switching the knife back and forth between her hands. “Defiantly in this neighborhood, God only knows who would break into a place to steal shit.”

“Get out or I’ll call the cops.” Amy could tell that he really didn’t think she was a threat. He had just hurt her, he thinks she’s weak. But she’s far from it. Once she sets her mind to something, she’ll do it. And she set her mind to get revenge.

And revenge she will get.

“It doesn’t matter if you call them or not, by the time they get here, it’ll probably be too late.”

Amy moved in a flash, with the knife in hand, she jumped up from the bed and tackled Chase. He made a grunt as her shoulder landed in his stomach. They hit the ground with a thud. Amy let out a scream as she straddled the man and raised the knife above her head. She went to strike him but he caught her arm. Physically, Chase was stronger than she was. He was a guy and had muscles. But there was one advantage for her.

She didn’t have an organ that would hurt if she got kneed. But he did. And that is exactly what she did. Her knee met with Chase’s crotch, him making a sharp gasp and a sound that Amy couldn’t identify.

But that gave her, her chance. The knife came down again, this time hitting it’s target. The knife stabbed right between his ribs, hitting part of his lung. This gurgling sound came out of his mouth as blood poured from it.

She stabbed him again. All her feelings of being picked on and being raped by this man she didn’t know came streaming at her. Again and again, she stabbed away at the man. His screamed didn’t faze Amy at all. If anything, it made her keep going.

He didn’t stop when she screamed and begged him to stop. So why should she?

Then she stood up randomly, her body numb. She couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t hear anything. She couldn’t taste anything.

But then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

The smell of blood and death filled the air. The smell of iron filled her nose, also making her gag when her senses came too. The smell was so strong; she never smelt anything so strong in her life. She wiped her forehead with the back of her head, smearing blood, blood that wasn’t hers, on it. Amy dropped the knife that was in her hand. It hit the soft carpet with a thump.

The man that was laying almost lifeless on the floor breathed in quick sharp gasps of air. His forehead shined with sweat as he clutched his chest. His hair was damp from the shower that he had before he was attacked, it looked brown in the dim light, but she knew it was red.

She sank down to her knees. Sounds of sirens came into earshot. She knew someone in the apartment heard everything. She looked into the man’s eyes. She could tell he was starting to fall in and out of consciousness from the blood loss.

“They won’t be able to save you. They’ll be too late,” she whispered in his ear.

Minutes later, cops flooded into the room and pulled her away from the dead man’s body. The police officer said something that to her but she didn’t hear him. It went right through one ear and out the other.

She turned her head to get a last glance at the body man being covered by a white blanket. “Payback is a bitch… isn’t it?” she muttered at the officer pushed her out of the room.