Noise and Kisses

I don’t know how long I was there lying in Carlos’ bed, the sheets stained with my blood and his come. It had to be at least a week. I always heard people downstairs but I was too weak, bled out, & desolated to cry out. I was practically dead. It was on one of these nights when Carlos had company, that I heard a scratching on the window.
I sat frozen. I was terrified. Was this someone else Carlos had invited to torment me?
“Rakshana?” a voice I would always know came through the crack in the window.
I got up and silently walked to the window. Naked, cut, bruised, there was no room for shame, only the instinct to survive.
“Bert.” I breathed, touching the glass. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming, but the fire in his eyes as he saw me there cut up and dirty almost lifted me up from my depressed state. That meant he cared dream or not.
“Open this window.”
I quickly did as he asked and when it was open; he wrapped a blanket around me, picked me up, and climbed gingerly down Carlos’ house with me on his shoulders.
He was running to his truck that I could just barely make out in the darkness when I heard gunshots.
I heard Bert groan, but the pain from my cuts was agonizing and the sudden movement was paralyzing. I passed out.