Coming Home

Cassadee screamed, again and again until her lungs felt raw and dry. The bile rose in her throat and fear permeated her skin, flooding her with crashing waves of terror.

She felt a bony shoulder poking her stomach, right at her abdomen, and she almost felt it again. Like the knife that passed through her skin like it was butter. Images flashed through her mind, again and again, pulsating and alive. She was afraid, and for the first time, she wanted someone to save her.

The material thrown over her was in fact not a blanket, but a large potato sack. She could feel the rough material of the sack poking her face, suffocating her.

Then she heard more footsteps, trudging behind her, like they were marching Cassadee to her death. She tried to reach for her phone, tucked away in her back pocket- her breaths coming out shallow and fast.

There was a warm hand on her bottom, and Cassadee screamed. She felt the hand squeeze her right bottom- patronizing and cold. Then her phone was gone.

“Don’t play this game with us Miss Adams,” said someone before she was chucked to the ground, bag pulled off her face.

Panic swelling in her throat, Cassadee looked at her captors who had surrounded her.

“Vincent?” She choked out, recognizing his scrawny figure and unpleasant smile. Unlike the other men, he was in a simple shirt and jeans. He didn’t look professional, and he looked angry.

“You’ve caused enough trouble for all of us Miss Adams,” he gloated, a drunk smile careened over his face. Cassadee shuddered, pushing herself up by the back of her palms, struggling to put some distance between her captors.

“What’s going on?” She asked again, her voice hitching up a few notches. She looked around her, all of her captors were men- important looking men. Then amongst the 5 faces, she noticed Bill, looking pale and like he was going to throw up.

“Bill? What’s going on?”

“I-I, you, you ruined my career!” he stammered, before casting her a forced hard look. Cassadee gulped, Lee had warned her. There had been neon strobe lights everywhere that hinted that this would happen eventually. But Cassadee had thought that her leave from the political scene would fix everything, apparently not.

“Word gets around during election time Miss Adams, and you and your articles have revealed more than we would have liked,” Victor spoke simply, looking down at her. Cassadee looked at him strangely, her fear suddenly evaporating, replaced with a sort of hysterical giggle. Vincent glared at her, his upturned smirk dissolving into a frown.

Pushing herself up from the ground, Cassadee dusted herself.

“I get it,” she spoke. The ridiculousness of the situation dawning on her, making her smile a little.

“You guys want revenge,” she spoke again, looking at each man around her in the eye. She watched the way some of them shuddered when she looked at them- barely, but they did. They were cowards, they were obviously cajoled into doing this so the perpetrator wouldn’t get all the blame.

“How about you Vincent? I thought you got more than you deserved,” she spoke, taking a small step towards him. She saw Vincent’s eyes burn with fury, but she wouldn’t back down. There was nothing she could lose already- she had lost her meaning in writing and she felt her working days dissolving like salt in water.

“I quit writing about politics. I realised what a joke my love life has been, all in the expense of the NDP. What did you lose Vincent? What did you lose that these men haven’t?” She spoke slowly, glaring at everyone again. She recognised some of them, lowly correspondents from various smaller political groups- made famous by their occasional scandals.

And she hated them. Because she knew that the only reason they came for her was because she had ousted them. She had no reason to be afraid.

“Listen you little cunt,” Vincent snapped, his choice of word burning Cassadee’s ears. She almost told him off about it, but she felt 2 pairs of arms on each shoulder, pulling her to the ground. Shuddering at the way their bodies felt against her, Cassadee struggled.

“I lost my fucking job because of that little stunt you pulled at the office that day.”

“I pulled what off Vincent? If I remembered correctly, you wanted to thank me, remember?” Cassadee snapped, almost collapsing under the weight of the two men holding her down. She felt a shudder of whispers pass by the lips of the men around her, and she allowed a little smile.

“What did you tell these men Vincent? That I tried to seduce you?” Cassadee sneered.

Then he hit her. He hit her so hard, Cassadee felt a crack in her jaw where his palm connected to his face. Her head spun for a moment, before she felt the burn of his palm sear her face. Cassadee shuddered as the pain flooded her brain, shaking in the arms of the men. She felt their grip relax, then she heard one speak. His voice low and gravelly.

“Vincent, this wasn’t in the-“

“Shut the fuck up!” Vincent yelled. Cassadee felt something warm trickle into her mouth. Blood. Spitting it out, she dared herself to look at Vincent again, hate burning through her guts.

“Are we hitting girls now?” She spoke, the taste of the blood gagging her a little. She watched as something in Vincent snapped, as he crouched in front of her, yanking her hair so hard that her already throbbing skull burned more. Cassadee swallowed the gasp of pain in her throat.

“You seem to forget who you’re dealing with,” he spat. Cassadee, in her fear, rolled her eyes.

“Nope, it’s pretty clear that birds of the same feather flock together,” she said- regretting it as he slapped her again. She felt the arms around her loosen, and she fell sideways, breathing in deeply, hair lying around her slightly bloody face.

“Vincent, stop it.” Cassadee looked at the person who spoke, giving him a bloody smile, as she tried to spit the blood out, feeling it slide down her throat again, shuddering at the taste.

The man, in his 30s, stopped for a moment to look at her. His face a mixture of confused expressions- like he didn’t know who to hate more, her or Vincent.

“You know if you guys really wanted to make a difference, you could start by speaking up,” Cassadee choked, wiping her lip carelessly.

Vincent took this chance to pounce at her, and she screamed. She felt all of his weight on him, smelt his drunk breath as he straddled her waist and bent down. Up close, Cassadee let go of the whimper that had been building in her throat and she saw, with disgust, the blooming of satisfaction in his eyes.

“I will ruin you Miss Adams,” he whispered in her ear. Cassadee felt his shaft pressing against her and she screamed. She couldn’t believe this was happening, someone had to stop him. She felt Vincent pull her blouse down roughly, revealing her bra to the night sky and she cried out at his cruel violation.

Then he let released her blouse, and looked back.

“Give me her phone!” There was a murmuring behind him, and Cassadee lifted her head to see Bill Anderson looking like he did just throw up, cowering behind another man. She shivered at the mousy nature that some men had, then at the thought of Vincent.

“I’m going to call your boyfriend now,” Vincent whispered, holding her phone out so she could see it. She cursed the day that she didn’t bother to set a passcode for her phone as Vincent unlocked her phone easily. She watched, her breath ragged, and tears pooling below her eyes as Derrick’s name flashed across the screen.

Vincent hit the ‘speaker’ button and let the phone ring. Cassadee felt a sob tear through her body, praying to god that he would pick up. Fear ricocheted through her body as Vincent set more of his weight on her and she felt his violation press up against her and she whimpered, kicking her feet under her.

She watched it ring, once, twice, then 5 times. He wasn’t picking up. She wouldn’t blame him either. Vincent, clucked at her pitifully.

“Looks like no one’s here to save you Miss Adams, let’s try again shall we?” He taunted, before hitting the redial button. Cassadee felt more tears stream down her face and onto the dirty ground, pressing her finger tips and palms against the ground to steady her jolting heart.

Please, please pick up.

It rang once, twice- then someone picked up the phone. She glanced breathlessly at it. He had picked up, but he wasn’t saying anything.

She watched as Vincent gave her a look of amusement as the silence seemed to last forever. Wasn’t he going to say something?

Then as quick as he picked up, the phone went dead again.

Cassadee felt a hurt so severe tear through her body, accompanied by traces of pain and agony as Vincent returned her phone to his accomplice before returning her a sympathetic look.

“Young love, so insincere,” he mocked, before roughly yanking down Cassadee’s blouse and attaching his lips to her chest. Cassadee felt herself scream, undulated emotions crashing into her stomach. For a moment she forgot that she was being terrorized in front of others and she thrashed and kicked under Vincent.

“SHUT UP!” Vincent yelled, slapping her again. She didn’t stop, the pain becoming a dull throb as it coursed through her head. All she felt were his hands, pulling and yanking at her skirt, trying to get under it. Trying to violate her. She kicked as hard as she could, whimpering and crying.

There was a moment in Vincent’s assault that Cassadee realised that she had crossed the line between being sassy and strong, and being insanely helpless. If there was anything that she had left, she couldn’t let it come down to this.

“You are nothing you worthless cunt! NOTHING,” he yelled as she kicked him in the ribs. Cassadee thrashed, a monster tearing up her insides as was Vincent in his undulated molestation of her.

“GET OFF ME,” she screamed, a sound that sounded ugly because it was mixed with blood, tears and snot. She felt him slap her again, and again. Each slap ringing her ears. Somewhere in the middle of his hard slaps, she felt a punch. It bruised the area below her left cheek and eye, but the pain and dulled. Her eyes were blurry, everything was a mess. Her dirty hands, clawed his face. Then she felt more hands, and she screamed louder. It was happening. It was really happening and no one was here to save her.

“Enough Vincent! Get the fuck off her or we’ll call the police!”

“Vincent, stop. Stop it, she’s bleeding.”

“Stop!”

“Stop.”

Stop.

For a moment all Cassadee could see was the dark ebony sky, hearing nothing. She was breathing so scarcely that she could barely hear anything. She felt the cold air flutter over her skin, felt her tears burn the cuts on her face. Then she saw Bill Anderson’s face. He was apologising, again and again. Cassadee thought she saw tears, and Cassadee thanked him. She felt someone throw her roughly into the back of a pickup van, her body landing heavily and she felt like she could die.

On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being heaven and 1 being stabbed by Crystal- Cassadee would have rated this a solid 3. It wasn’t the injuries that hurt, it was her heart. And her dignity, and everything she had managed to keep stuck together.

As the engine came to life, Cassadee was slipping in and out of sanity. She was aware of the whispers around her. She felt a hand tug her skirt down, felt another pull her blouse up. She had never felt so dirty in her life.

“Come on you filthy bastards. Get that twat out of my car.”

“I’ll do it,” offered someone. Cassadee felt herself being heaved upwards, her hand around someone. She limped, walking but not feeling. Because if she felt, the pain would kill her- more than it did the previous time. The death of a heart, was ten times worse than physical death.

She felt a strange churning in her stomach and she threw up all over the ground. Hearing a disgusted groan, she continued, not bothering to do anything. She just wanted her body to black out- for everyone else to deal with her. She was too tired, too sore and too broken to fix herself. She felt herself being heaved up marble stairs, not knowing where she was.

Then her support dropped her onto the floor, rang the doorbell and sprinted off- not before placing her phone gently in her open palms. It was an act of kindness that could almost make Cassadee laugh. Almost gang bang a girl, but return her phone at the end of the day.

She tried to curl up into a ball, or push herself up. But everything hurt too much. She heard the pattering of footsteps to the door- such a white door that she wouldn’t like to dirty with her filthiness.

Shaking, she had barley pushed herself up on her elbows when the door opened. There was silence as she blindly looked up. Seeing, but not looking.

“ENJOY YOUR GIFT PRINCE,” came a rude shout. Then Cassadee heard the roar of an engine, and it was silent.

“Oh my god Derrick, she threw up on your lawn.”

Derrick? Who else would it have been?