I Can Be Your Hero

I tried to twist out of Damien’s grasp, yowling as I clawed at his hand with my uninjured hand. He had wrapped his fingers in my hair and dragged me through the apartment by it, drawing tears from my eyes. It was a little after 2 o’clock in the morning, and Damien had been out with the guys for a greater part of the night. I had fallen asleep in my bedroom, but I was rudely awakened by Damien slamming my bedroom door open. He immediately went for my hair and I screamed, knowing exactly what was going to come next. He threw me to the ground in his bedroom, and I tried to scramble away but he grabbed me by my foot and dragged me further into the room. I sobbed, begging him to leave me alone but my pleas fell on deaf ears. I was tossed carelessly onto the bed, and my clothes were ripped off in seconds. I tried to cover my almost naked body, but Damien pinned my arms above my head easily, yanking my underwear off quickly before undressing himself. I took the opportunity of freedom when he pulled his shirt off to try and run, but he merely grabbed me once more and slammed me roughly onto the mattress. I gasped with pain as he roughly forced himself into me, and I cried silently to myself as Damien pleased himself with my body. Once he was done he told me to get the fuck out of his room, and I did so gladly, running from the room and locking myself in my bedroom before slumping against the door and sobbing. I felt so ugly, so used, and so violated, and there was nothing I could do about it. There was nothing in this world that could make me want to live on, and as the pain between my legs grew and the pain in my chest grew with it, I was consumed by depression. I moved slowly, my body aching, but eventually I reached my end table. I pulled open the drawer, reached into the very back, and pulled out a box of razor blades.

“I can’t live like this anymore.” I wrote on a piece of paper before pulling out a blade. It glinted in the moonlight that filtered in through my bedroom window, and the edges of it blurred slightly as tears welled up in my eyes once again. I pressed the cool metal to the skin of my left wrist and just as the metal began to bite at my skin my phone went off. I jumped so violently that I dropped the razor blade and grabbed my phone quickly, praying that the vibrations wouldn’t be heard by Damien.



“Hello?” I whispered, answering the phone despite my fear.

“Hey…are you okay? I just…I had a bad feeling and I kind of wanted to call you and check in,” Patrick said, equally as quiet.

“I…no. I’m not okay. Damien…Damien raped me,” I choked out, realizing what exactly had just happened.

“WHAT?!” I heard Patrick scream, and I cringed.

“Patrick calm down,” I hissed. I heard another voice in the background mumble something, and Patrick sighed heavily before clearing his throat.

“Get out of that apartment right now. Pack whatever you need, wait until that son of a bitch is asleep, and get the fuck out of there. If you don’t, I swear to God I will take the next plane to Chicago and make you leave,” Patrick said. I swallowed roughly.

“Why do you care so much? You hardly even know me,” I whispered. The line was silent for a few minutes, and Patrick sighed.

“I care because you’re a person. You don’t deserve to suffer like this. It’s not right. Women are supposed to be loved and taken care of and treated gently, not thrown around and beaten and used. It’s not right,” Patrick explained.

“You use women,” I said senselessly.

Patrick’s Point of View

I couldn’t believe that she just said that.

“I’m trying to help you and you’re going to turn this around on me?” I hissed, anger bubbling up in my chest. What the fuck was her problem? I was trying to get someone I hardly knew out of a bad situation and she was going to turn my own problems around on me?

“I don’t need help,” Elizabeth whimpered, and I softened a bit.

“Yes you do…we all need help. I know I’m no angel, but that guy you’re with deserves to be in prison Elizabeth,” I said quietly.

“There’s one problem with your plan Patrick,” Elizabeth said after a few minutes.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Where am I supposed to go?” she sighed.

“Go to my apartment. I’ll text you the address. There are these little square things on the molding around the door in the hallway, and if you push the top left one on the right side it’ll swing up and there’s going to be a spare key in the little hole in the wall…I put it there because I lose my keys sometimes,” I explained.

“Patrick…I…I can’t just go into your apartment like that,” Elizabeth squeaked.

“Yes you can. I want you to. Go to my apartment. I’ll be back in two days. There should be enough food in the fridge,” I said.

“What about my job? Damien will just come and find me there,” Elizabeth said.

“Quit. You can find a new job,” I said quickly.

“It’s not that easy,” Elizabeth muttered.

“Stop trying to find a way out of getting help Elizabeth. Now I’m going to text you my address, and you text me the second you get to my apartment okay?” I demanded.

“Alright,” Elizabeth sighed, and I could hear the resignation in her voice. Once she assured me that she would go to my apartment I hung up.

“Why are you doing all of this Pat?” Jon asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. I looked out the window and stared out at St. Louis.

“I’m just doing what my gut is telling me to,” I shrugged.

“You’re going to get hurt if you keep this up Pat. Her boyfriend will kill you,” Jon said, his face creasing with worry.

“Dude, chill. He has no idea who I am or where she’s going. It’s not a big deal,” I said before opening the mini fridge. I grabbed the bottle of Jack that I had bought earlier and took a swig before offering it to Jon.

“Nah man, I’m good,” he said before rolling over and heading back to sleep.