I Am Invincible

Zach’s been very, very protective of me the past week, which I am grateful for. Patrick has been hanging around, I think trying to get either me or Zach alone and it’s scaring me. I’d hoped that he’d just piss off and leave us alone after the first week, but obviously he’s not going to do that for a while. I’m glad it’s Friday again; I’m sick of having to put up with Patrick and his constant stream of insults so it’ll be good to have two days where me and Zach can just relax and spend time together.

Zach and I decided to stay behind after school for a couple of hours so that Zach could finish a biology project that was due on the following Tuesday. I didn’t mind staying back after school; I had homework to do and if I finished it on the Friday afternoon then I wouldn’t have to worry about it on the weekend, which was a bonus. After working comfortably next to Zach on one of the huge science tables for about an hour, not only did I start to feel restless, I also needed to pee. Badly. I squirmed around in my chair for a while until Zach noticed and laughed at me.

“What are you doing?” he asked through his laughter.
“I need to peeeeeeee,” I whined.
“So go! Or you can wait until I’m finished and go at home, cause I’m nearly done, I know you’re not a fan of public bathrooms.” That was an understatement: I hate public bathrooms. They’re always grotty and disgusting. Ugh.
I pouted. “I’ll wait,” I grumbled and tried to sit so that there wasn’t any pressure on my bladder.

After 10 minutes of waiting impatiently, I jumped out of my chair and ran to the door of the classroom, probably looking like a madman. Zach looked up, surprised.
“I gotta go! Right now!” I wailed.
He chuckled. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I’ve managed for 14 years, I don’t need any help. I’ll be right back,” I shouted as I bolted out the door and down the hall to the closest male bathroom which was about a 200 metre sprint with a couple of sharp turns.

I made it to the bathroom without any accidents (luckily, talk about embarrassing). As I was emptying my bladder, I could’ve sworn I’d heard footsteps in the hall outside the bathroom, but I blew it off; because after all, there’d have to be people other than Zach and I here right?

When I finished and washed my hands I left the bathroom feeling relieved and started walking back towards the biology labs where Zach was working. It was kinda creepy walking the school halls with no students around. I sped up slightly, eager to get back into the presence of another human being. Just as I thought that, I heard loud footsteps behind me. I knew Zach never walked that heavily so I was a bit worried. I tried not to panic but my breath hitched in my throat anyway as I sped up more. The footsteps also sped up and I let out a cry of shock when a strong hand grabbed me around the top of my arm and another covered my mouth.

With a jerk of the person’s arms, I was on the ground. My head hit the floor hard and my vision was fuzzy. I tried to sit up but was immediately kicked in the stomach with heavy shoes and I flopped back onto the ground, coughing. Hands roughly turned me so that I was on my back and I looked up into the face of my attacker. Through my blurry vision, I could see that Patrick’s face was twisted into a sneer as his hands found my throat.

“I told you,” he laughed. “I told you I’d get my Zacky back. Once you’re gone, he’s all mine.”

I opened my mouth to shout out to anyone that could possibly hear me, but his hands tightened around my neck and they pressed against my voice box rendering me mute. Immediately I began struggling for breath as I wriggled against Patrick’s strong hold on me in an attempt to get free. Patrick’s hands were so tight against my throat that black spots began forming in front of my eyes as I continued fighting to get him off me.

The next thing I felt was a sharp pain in my rear end. Somehow Patrick had managed to… strip me down and was… taking advantage of my weakness as my breaths became shallower and shallower as his hands kept tightening on my throat.

Over and over.

Ripped apart.

Blood.

Blackness.

Pain.

Over and over.

He kept going back for more. I was slowly dying. My breaths were short, numbered. He suddenly stopped and stood over me, contemplating. I took this as my opportunity. With all the strength that I could muster up, I swung my leg into the row of lockers to the right of me, making as much noise as I possibly could. I could only hope that it was enough for someone, anyone to hear me. It made him angry. He dove back on top of me, hands finding my neck once again and squeezing hard, making his face contort into an ugly mask as he raped me again.

A sheet of blackness clouded my vision. I could see nothing else. I could feel nothing. I didn’t feel when Patrick’s deadly hands let go of my throat. I was already gone.