Everything But Time is Running Out

Frank and I ended up eating cold pizza that night, but Frank insisted cold pizza was his all-time favorite. I couldn't breathe through my nose after I got somewhat control over my emotions, so whether the pizza was cold or hot, the temperature had no affect on the taste for me. He cleaned up the kitchen for me after we ate, he made my bed for me prior to tucking me in, he made sure my phone was plugged in and my alarms were set for class on Monday. I really couldn't have asked for anyone better to take care of me, not that I would've made him if he didn't insist ever single stop of the way. The amount of affection he holds for me is just astounding to me and I have never felt so much warmth from anybody (sorry Molls).

Every day as I was walking to class, in between classes, during breakfast and lunch, he had me call him. If calling wasn't a realistic choice for some reason, we were texting. He didn't even ask me how I was doing in the sense of my depression or anger or angst. He asked me about everything else: how was class? What homework did they force on me? What nasty food are they serving at the cafeteria? How many steps does it take to walk from one class to the other? How long does it take to run the classroom to the shitter when you really gotta go? The questions were endless and half the time, our conversations were of me laughing at all of the dumb shit Frank would say and ask. He really was a life saver, in the figurative sense and the literal sense.

Every evening, when I didn't have night class, he would meet up with me for dinner. Sometimes we'd crash at his place and I'd leave from there the next day and other times, he's bring food over to my dorm and we ate, talked and watched movies while I worked on homework. He would never stay over night when he was there because he wanted to leave a good impression with Molly, even though she knew where I was during the nights that I wasn't home. Molly absolutely loved him. Whenever she could, she would egg us on, half jokingly and that earned her and Frank a good, laughing relationship, too. I will admit that while I was always preoccupied with text or calling Frank, going to class, doing homework, being with Frank all other times, I barely even had time for bad lingering thoughts. I was exhausted, but I felt happier.

It was the a couple weeks later where our routine got interrupted. Frank had been neglecting his own work and I was blaming myself hard for that. He knew it, too, but he wasn't able to disprove it to me; I didn't expect him to be able to because I was obviously the cause of the problem, but he still denied me having anything to do with the situation. Gerard was getting antsy because they had a gig in two weekends and were nowhere near ready to play their new songs, which was the ultimate goal. Gerard really didn't want to keep playing the same shit, especially if it was at a place where they always played. I totally understood, but knowing that Frank was going to be elsewhere, busy and unavailable to me, it made me nervous. It made him nervous. He made me promise, though, that he would always have his phone on him and that our promise still stood that if I felt anything but happy, anything, to give him a call. I agreed to uphold the deal, but was still apprehensive. Oh well. I had some deadlines myself to keep up with. I made a goal for myself: to work nonstop on homework and get so far ahead of schedule that after Frank's show, we could be together all of the time and I wouldn't have to worry about homework for a little while. It sounded doable to me and it definitely sounded doable to Frank.

So that was the plan and I was sticking to it very well for the first half of the week. Frank called me every evening to catch up on things, and even though he was beyond a doubt excited to hear about my day, he just sounded so exhausted that I would let him hang up first to go to bed. It was lonely, but before I could start moping around, I would turn on music and work on my poster or read the assignment for my literature class. The latter was a great option for if I wanted to grow sleepy simultaneously. It wasn't until Thursday evening after class that something abnormal within my very mundane week happened.

"Holy shit, it's getting cold," I muttered to myself, grasping at my jacket. I instantly regretted not wearing a hoodie along with it. Autumn season was approaching quickly and what 80-90 degree Fahrenheit weather we once had a week or two ago quickly went down to 60 degrees and then 45 degrees. My literature class was on the complete opposite side of campus from where the girls' dorms were. Normally I didn't mind; I would enjoy walking outside while the wind blew through my hair and the sunset was changing colors in the sky, but now that evening came sooner with Daylight Savings Time, it was less enjoyable and sometimes even seemed eerie. I had gotten used to talking to Frank on my walks home, but he was extremely preoccupied due to his show being tomorrow night. I walked briskly, briefly glancing at the fraternity and sorority houses as I made my way across the middle section of campus. I never understood the whole work hard, play hard thing, but I swear, they were always having some sort of party every other night. How they managed to keep their grades up, nobody knows.

Some guys were standing outside of the mansion-like building, smoking what I could smell as weed. I tried to not make eye contact as I walked by, but they were so far gone, I'm sure they would approach any person that looked remotely feminine. "Aye, girly!" one of the guys shouted as I walked by. "Come 'ere for a sec! You look like someone who would want to talk to me!" For some reason, that made the guys howl with laughter.

"Come on, Kurt, nobody in their right mind would want to talk to you!" one of the other guys yelled, causing more laughter.

"You're right!" Kurt yelled back, even though they were standing right directly next to each other. "They all wanna do more than just talk!" He grabbed his balls and made an appalling gesture. My face contorted in disgust as I tried to ignore them. "Hey!" He moved to grab my arm, "you look at me when I'm talking to you, baby!" I was forcefully turned around, my hand on his chest, trying to push him away from me.

"Wow, Kurt, you managed to caught a cute one!" one of the other goonies mocked, downing the rest of his drink. My attention was on the guy who had just spoken and suddenly, this Kurt guy decided to kiss me, his lips slamming against mine, his hands gripping my arms with white knuckles. I tried my best to wiggle free, but this guy had at least 50 lbs. of muscle on me. I could feel my arms slipping free from my jacket and I took the chance to slip out of it and make a run for it. He grabbed my hair, which caused me to have whiplash and I fell backward to the ground, hitting the back of my skull. My head was spinning, my vision was blurry and my body felt weak as I tried to get a hold of my surroundings. All I could hear was heinous laughter and all I could smell was smoke and alcohol from the guy's breath. I tried to sit up, but there was a weight against my chest. He was on top of me. Without thinking, my knee reflexed upward, smashing in his piece of shit manhood. I rolled over and started crawling away, my senses taking their sweet fucking time returning to normal.

One of the other guys decided to help Kurt because I felt my hair being tugged again. "You like it rough, don't you sweetheart," he cooed, lifting me to my feet. I couldn't scream because my head was being pulled too far back, causing my neck to bend at a very uncomfortable, painful angle.

My arms were swinging madly and aimlessly and my hands sought to scratch anything they were able to touch. I managed to grab behind me, onto the guy's ears and pull with all my might. "Fucking bitch!" He screamed bloody murder as I refused to let go. I felt a big, meaty hand slap the side of my face in panic to me trying to rip his ears off. My nails gouged his cheeks as he gained freedom and I fell once again to the ground. I landed on my side, my arm and elbow taking the main blow this time, but it still caused me to falter with unbalanced legs as I tried to stand and run at the same time.

I felt wetness trickle from my head, down past the side of my eye and cheek and when I looked down, my pants were ripped and my arm was done for. A bloody mess camouflaged the concrete and dirt and debris seasoned my entire forearm and then some. All I could feel was pain as I finally gained control of my feet.

A third member of the group went to help his friends, but not before trying to kick me down in revenge. I almost was successful in dodging, but he caught me behind the knee and I once again collapsed. At this point, I was crying in fear and exhaustion but adrenaline kept my will alive. I quickly got up and while they were distracted with helping each other, I made my escape. I ran around the house, diving into a nearby bush. The thorns scratched into me, but I kept silent the best I could. My heart was pounding and my chest was on fire, but I willed myself to remain silent, holding my breath to ten and slowly releasing it, being as quiet as if my life depended on it.

"Where did the bitch go?" one of them yelled, sprinting right past my hiding place.

"She couldn't have gone far; she was just here," the other yelled over, also sprinting by.

"When I get my hands on that cunt," I heard Kurt say to himself as he followed the best he could, but he had gotten the worst injury of all three of them. He was still holding between his legs as he wobbled nearby. I held my breath, not daring to make any sound. My body was searing with pain as I forced myself to be 100% still. If he found me now, I was for sure dead as a door nail. He was walking past, almost gone, just a few more steps... until my foot slipped out from under me, causing it to peek out from underneath the bush. I definitely wasn't the most religious person in the world, but I prayed so hard to anyone that would listen that he didn't hear nor see anything. He didn't. He was still moaning and groaning as he called out to the guys. "Hey you fuckers! If you find that piece of shit, I call dibs."

I waited a few more minutes after he was out of sight before I dared to even pull my foot back underneath me. I stood up, extremely wearily, trying to wake up my feet that had fallen asleep and move my legs that had cramped up.

I didn't even care about my books or my jacket that I had dropped somewhere along the attack. I ran as fast as my legs could possibly carry me and I didn't stop until I was at the dorm. By then, I was desperately gasping for air. I could feel the blood pulsing rapidly through my head and my throat felt as if all the water in the world wouldn't replenish it.

I'm not sure how I made it up the stairs to the front door, but once I got there, I realised I didn't have the building keys on me. I slid down against the door, totally defeated, tearing streaming down my face. I took out my phone, which surprisingly stayed in my pants pocket the entire time, trying to put the lock code in. My fingers were shaking so badly that I almost locked up my phone trying to unlock it. I had Frank's number on the screen and pressed dial. It had rung almost to voicemail before a very tired voice answered the phone.

"Hello?" Frank sleepily answered. I could only whimper on the other end. "Kara?" Frank asked, sounding more alarmed. "Kara what's wrong? What happened?" He went from sleepy to panicked in the span of ten seconds. All I could do was cry. "Stay right there," he said. I could hear muffled sounds over the phone from him trying to dress himself. "I'm coming over right now. Don't move." I couldn't move even if I had wanted to.

By the time Frank had arrived, I was an even hotter mess than I was before calling him over. "Holy Fuck!" Frank yelled, running over to me. It was then that I totally lost my shit. Crying and rocking and holding myself, I couldn't do anything as Frank embraced me. There was nothing either of us could do until I calmed down, which wouldn't be for a while. It wouldn't be until a long, long while.