Status: Active.
City Lights
Chapter 1
I guess it would be easier to start from the beginning.
It was a Friday evening and of course like most people in their early 20s I was going out. I was meeting some friends at a new club, apparently it wasn't too shabby so we decided to go.
Now before this gets confusing for a few closed minded morons, I am in fact a male. I just enjoy wearing women's clothing. I mean come on, what man hasn't once tried on some heels and a little skirt?
Anyway, I'd been shopping a few hours earlier and purchased a new short black pencil skirt and some stockings to accompany it. And I guess you could say I was feeling a little pretty, especially with the dark red corset and eight inch heels. Gosh how I wish I'd stayed home that night.
Fast forward an hour and I was walking to the club. I remember wrapping a small leather jacket around myself while turning down another alleyway. I know, I know, walking down alleys at night isn't safe. I've learnt my fucking lesson. You have no idea how painful that lesson is.
St Patterson's road was the last anyone saw me. My old French teacher bumped into me, giving me a look of disgust before walking away. Never liked the prick. Always used to pick on David Black, a small gay boy who was already bullied harshly by the football team. Luckily I was moved from that class before he found out that I preferred make-up and pretty things instead of watching a rugby game.
After St Patterson's I wandered down other set of alleyways. Of course I could just about see in front of me and I vaguely remember the smell of piss and alcohol. Not exactly the fanciest of places.
You ever get the feeling you're being watched? Because at that moment the feeling was smacking me in the face. I wanted to turn back, I told myself to turn back, but of course I just thought I was overreacting. It's totally normal to feel freaked out in a dark alley, it's normal to speed up, it's normal to keep checking around you and it's very normal that you get out alive, because you were just overreacting.
But it didn't go so well for me obviously. I could actually see the end of the alley, I could actually see the club I was supposed to arrive at. But then shuffling of feet came from behind me, alerting me that I definitely was not alone.
Now in horror movies you always see the stupid fuckers who turn around and shout 'hello' before getting their throats slit. But of course in reality you would do no such thing and sprint from the alley as fast as you can. And that's exactly what I tried to do.
But you try running in eight inch heels down a wet alley while wearing an extremely sultty outfit. It just doesn't work. So it didn't take me by surprise when I was thrown against the brick wall. Then his grubby hands laced themselves through my hair and pulled my head back while using his body to corner me into the wall. I can certainly recall the fear that was circulating inside me. That fear is still with me after all of this time. These people are unpredictable and dangerous, I've learnt that.
During the time I was pressed against the wall I tried everything to get out of his grip. I begged him, bribed him, pushed him, kicked him, bit him, punched him. But nothing worked. He even started laughing when I was begging him.
After a while I started to wonder what the fuck he was doing. We'd been stood like that for a good few minutes and he'd done nothing. I was getting even more panicky by each second and him not talking was making the situation a lot more creepy.
And that's when I saw the van come into view. I think he muttered something along the lines of 'finally' before loosening his grip on me. And I had a split second to react while he'd done that, so of course I used the heels to kick him straight in the nuts.
The sick fuck went down on one knee so acting on impulse I kneed him in the face. So after doing that I slipped out of the heels and bolted down the alley. I could hear them shouting and I can remember telling myself that I just needed to get out of the alley, just to ignore them and try to get as far away as possible.
But I was so focused on escaping that I didn't notice the fucking bin in front of me. I can feel the embarrassment now but back then I just ignored it completely and pushed myself up before running again. But that slip up had cost me everything.
I was knocked forward by a shoulder and I tumbled to the ground, my face and knees scraping on the hard floor. I immediately tried to get back up and run but I was pulled back by my hair and thrown over someone's shoulder. I was crying and trying to scream as loudly as I could but no one came, the loud music of the club blocking it out. And at that moment I felt such despair. No one was saving me. This was actually happening.
When we came to the van I did my best to wriggle away from them all, but I was just thrown in with hardly any effort. By the time I'd turned around the door had been slammed closed and I was left in the haunting darkness.
It was a Friday evening and of course like most people in their early 20s I was going out. I was meeting some friends at a new club, apparently it wasn't too shabby so we decided to go.
Now before this gets confusing for a few closed minded morons, I am in fact a male. I just enjoy wearing women's clothing. I mean come on, what man hasn't once tried on some heels and a little skirt?
Anyway, I'd been shopping a few hours earlier and purchased a new short black pencil skirt and some stockings to accompany it. And I guess you could say I was feeling a little pretty, especially with the dark red corset and eight inch heels. Gosh how I wish I'd stayed home that night.
Fast forward an hour and I was walking to the club. I remember wrapping a small leather jacket around myself while turning down another alleyway. I know, I know, walking down alleys at night isn't safe. I've learnt my fucking lesson. You have no idea how painful that lesson is.
St Patterson's road was the last anyone saw me. My old French teacher bumped into me, giving me a look of disgust before walking away. Never liked the prick. Always used to pick on David Black, a small gay boy who was already bullied harshly by the football team. Luckily I was moved from that class before he found out that I preferred make-up and pretty things instead of watching a rugby game.
After St Patterson's I wandered down other set of alleyways. Of course I could just about see in front of me and I vaguely remember the smell of piss and alcohol. Not exactly the fanciest of places.
You ever get the feeling you're being watched? Because at that moment the feeling was smacking me in the face. I wanted to turn back, I told myself to turn back, but of course I just thought I was overreacting. It's totally normal to feel freaked out in a dark alley, it's normal to speed up, it's normal to keep checking around you and it's very normal that you get out alive, because you were just overreacting.
But it didn't go so well for me obviously. I could actually see the end of the alley, I could actually see the club I was supposed to arrive at. But then shuffling of feet came from behind me, alerting me that I definitely was not alone.
Now in horror movies you always see the stupid fuckers who turn around and shout 'hello' before getting their throats slit. But of course in reality you would do no such thing and sprint from the alley as fast as you can. And that's exactly what I tried to do.
But you try running in eight inch heels down a wet alley while wearing an extremely sultty outfit. It just doesn't work. So it didn't take me by surprise when I was thrown against the brick wall. Then his grubby hands laced themselves through my hair and pulled my head back while using his body to corner me into the wall. I can certainly recall the fear that was circulating inside me. That fear is still with me after all of this time. These people are unpredictable and dangerous, I've learnt that.
During the time I was pressed against the wall I tried everything to get out of his grip. I begged him, bribed him, pushed him, kicked him, bit him, punched him. But nothing worked. He even started laughing when I was begging him.
After a while I started to wonder what the fuck he was doing. We'd been stood like that for a good few minutes and he'd done nothing. I was getting even more panicky by each second and him not talking was making the situation a lot more creepy.
And that's when I saw the van come into view. I think he muttered something along the lines of 'finally' before loosening his grip on me. And I had a split second to react while he'd done that, so of course I used the heels to kick him straight in the nuts.
The sick fuck went down on one knee so acting on impulse I kneed him in the face. So after doing that I slipped out of the heels and bolted down the alley. I could hear them shouting and I can remember telling myself that I just needed to get out of the alley, just to ignore them and try to get as far away as possible.
But I was so focused on escaping that I didn't notice the fucking bin in front of me. I can feel the embarrassment now but back then I just ignored it completely and pushed myself up before running again. But that slip up had cost me everything.
I was knocked forward by a shoulder and I tumbled to the ground, my face and knees scraping on the hard floor. I immediately tried to get back up and run but I was pulled back by my hair and thrown over someone's shoulder. I was crying and trying to scream as loudly as I could but no one came, the loud music of the club blocking it out. And at that moment I felt such despair. No one was saving me. This was actually happening.
When we came to the van I did my best to wriggle away from them all, but I was just thrown in with hardly any effort. By the time I'd turned around the door had been slammed closed and I was left in the haunting darkness.
♠ ♠ ♠
Idk