Seeing Stars
16: If You're Going Through Hell
"If you're going through hell keep on going... You might get out before the devil even knows you're there..."
It shouldn’t have happened. She was smarter than that. Out of all the things her father ever taught her, two stuck out specifically in her mind. One: The only boy a girl can depend on is her daddy. And two: Never, ever, walk alone in a dark alley. It should have been obvious to avoid the alley. Nothing good ever comes from the dark. But all she was trying to do was get back into the bar to rejoin Kennedy.
A span of twenty minutes was the reason why Cassidy was bundled up in bed, the blankets pulled tightly over her body, with a scarf around her neck. Twenty minutes was the reason she had been like this for three days, constantly replaying the nightmare over and over in her head.
When Kennedy asked what was going on, and Cassidy didn’t respond, she took it as something to do with Jamie. Like he had called in from his road trip and broken up with her, or admitted that he hooked up with some random chick but still loved Cassidy. Both of those possibilities seemed better than what had actually gone on.
Like she had many times that day, Cassidy’s mind involuntarily drifted back to the night.
“Where in the hell?!” She yelled to herself while in the driver seat of her car. Her cell phone was nowhere to be found; not in her purse and clearly not anywhere in the car.
Knowing that Jamie would text her soon, she dug through her purse, unable to find her phone. That’s when Kennedy mentioned something about how it might’ve gotten left in the car. And wanting to be able to respond to Jamie, she went out to the parking lot out back to search.
When she actually found it somehow stuffed between the center console and the driver seat, she tapped the screen, groaning as she had missed Jamie’s call, leaving him no other option but to leave a voicemail.
“Hey Cass, just wanted to call and check in. We’re in Anaheim now, playing tomorrow night and then one more game in Arizona. I guess you’re out with Kennedy, so I’ll just talk to you tomorrow. Be safe. Bye.”
Be safe.
After the line went dead, Cassidy shoved her phone into her wristlet, ready to go back into the bar. She shut her car door and pushed the lock button until the horn sounded. Before she could reach the front of the bar to go back inside, she felt a tug on her arm, followed by a violent shove, sending her into the brick wall of the darkened alley.
The back of her head hit against the sturdy wall, and Cassidy felt herself go dizzy. When she was able to open her eyes again, her vision was blurry, only able to see the silhouette of a person in front of her. Man or woman, she didn’t know. But the silhouette reached for her, fingers locking around her neck.
Definitely a man, she thought to herself.
She gurgled out a scream, only to have the fingers wrap tighter around her neck, and a low, raspy voice threaten, “if you make noise, I’m going to hurt you.”
Her vision was almost back now, but her eyelids felt heavy, and she felt sleepy, most likely due to the fact that the man’s fingers were pressing against the arteries and veins in her neck, cutting off the rapid supply of blood to her brain. But she forced herself to stay awake. No way in hell she was going down like this.
Although she didn’t believe she knew the man, she believed she knew the reason why he felt his attack was provoked. Cassidy had opted for a rather short dress for the night out, partially encouraged by Kennedy. Now with the man’s free hand snaking up the bottom of her dress, his intentions were clear.
Cassidy struggled against him, trying to free herself from his grip, but the much larger man took things a step further. He pressed his body against Cassidy’s, keeping her still beneath him, while his fingers pushed her thong to the side and began playing with her slit. The man smirked viciously as Cassidy attempted to move her hips to the side, and he pressed his waist against her. Immediately she felt his erection against her leg, and despite his threat, she screamed out for help, only to have the man’s hand squeeze her neck roughly, turning her scream into a squeak.
She tried to scream again as he pushed his fingers upward, and in an odd twist of fate, God decided now was the time to step in. A car pulled into the driveway, headlights shining along the brick wall. Spooked, the man pulled his hand out from beneath Cassidy’s dress, released her neck and whispered, “have a nice night,” before running off into the darkness. She took a few deep breaths, regaining whatever composure she could, and rushed into the bar, finding Kennedy in the middle of a group of boys.
By the time she coerced Kennedy to get into the car so they could go home, Cassidy could feel her neck stinging. In Kennedy’s drunken state, she didn’t notice the marks and didn’t ask what had taken so long. Once home, Cassidy rushed to the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Along with the red fingerprints scattered across her neck were scratches.
Cassidy pulled off her dress, got changed into her pajamas, circled a scarf around her neck and crawled into bed, pulling the blankets up over her head.
That’s how she got where she was; same position, same pajamas, same shitty situation. Only now, Kennedy had begun to worry, growing impatient with the fact that the most Cassidy had eaten in three days was a granola bar. It didn’t matter what she thought, though. The night it happened, Cassidy really needed Kennedy; needed her to be sober, and needed her company. Now that the alcohol had left her system, she felt like she was entitled to some information. But she wasn’t.
The bedroom door opened slowly and Cassidy stared at it, waiting to see Kennedy and endure another long lecture. But it wasn’t Kennedy, and at first Cassidy didn’t even recognize the man in front of her. She hadn’t seen him in three weeks, and now with the moustache inhabiting his upper lip, he seemed unidentifiable.
Jamie walked in and shut the door behind him, pushing his hands into his pant pockets as he stood at the side of the bed, wearing a dark suit. He’d obviously just come from the airport after the nearly three week long road trip.
“Kennedy tells me you won’t eat, you won’t leave your bed, you won’t shower…” He chewed on his lower lip, “you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Cassidy remained silent, just staring at him. He may have not looked like old, typical Jamie, but he sure as hell sounded like him. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and she stared at his motions carefully. When he set his hand on top of her hip, she flinched beneath his touch, sending her body tense.
He furrowed his eyebrows and squeezed his fingers around her hip gently. All the while, her eyes glared at his hand. “You just missed me, you wanted me back?” When she shifted beneath the blankets, the sheet moved down just enough to reveal the scarf. “What’s with this?”
She stayed quiet again, and now Jamie was growing visibly frustrated. He reached forward and grabbed at the scarf, pulling it down to reveal her neck. When he saw the bruises and scratches, the muscles in his jaw pulsated as he clenched his teeth together.
“Who did this to you?” For now, he was as calm as he possibly could be. But when Cassidy refused to answer him, he yelled louder, “who did this to you?!”
“I don’t know!” she shrieked, shrinking away from him, backing up closer to the wall behind her bed. Jamie was still angry, his fists now clenched in his lap. Cassidy took a deep breath and closed her eyes, “I was out with Kennedy, went back to the car to get my phone…” She glanced up at Jamie, her eyes emotionless, “some guy attacked me.”
Jamie stood up quickly, pushing his hands into his pockets as though he were searching for something, “which bar were you at?” He moved towards the door.
“Jamie, don’t.” She sat up and reached out to stop him. Although she couldn’t touch him, the motion at least made him pause for a moment, “it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does. Which bar were you at?” He looked down at her impatiently, growing more and more aggravated with each passing second.
“We were at Arrow. But you’ll never find the guy, Jamie. I don’t even know what he looked like.”
Her words seemed to pull Jamie back to reality. He ran an anxious hand over his mouth, “did he rape you?”
Cassidy shook her head slightly, folding her arms across her chest, “he molested me.” She wiped her eyes quickly. Having spent the past three days crying about it, she was done.
Jamie walked to her bed and sat down, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Although she didn’t reciprocate, but rather felt tense in his arms, he didn’t move, and instead pressed his lips against the side of her head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you…”
“It’s not your job to protect me,” Cassidy interrupted. She turned her head away from him.
“I’m making it my job. I love you and I’m not going to stand by idly and watch someone fuck with you. They’re gonna go through me, and there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
She pressed her hands against Jamie’s chest until he released her. Slowly, she lay back in bed and pulled the blankets back up over her neck. Feeling unwanted, Jamie stood up and exited her bedroom, closing the door behind him. Just outside, he spotted Kennedy and nodded his head towards the living room, urging her to follow him.
“I heard the whole thing. Jamie, if I had known…”
He nodded and held up his hand as if to reassure her that he knew she would do anything in her power to help Cassidy. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to pick her up. I want her to stay with me for awhile.”
“But,”
Jamie shook his head, “this guy took Cassidy’s trust and faith that people are intrinsically good. I fell in love with a girl who believed that no one could intentionally do harm. She doesn’t trust me; I saw it in her eyes when I sat next to her.” He paused and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need time with her. I need her to trust that I’m not going to hurt her.”
Kennedy nodded, knowing that Jamie was right. “If you want her trust back, I’d start with shaving that moustache. You don’t look like yourself, and she’s going to want to see a face she recognizes.”
He ran one hand over his facial hair, taking a deep breath in. “I’ll be by tomorrow morning. If you can, try to have a bag packed for her.” As he pulled open the front door, he looked back at Kennedy, “you’re welcome to come by the house anytime. I don’t want her to think I’m isolating her from everyone.”
It shouldn’t have happened. She was smarter than that. Out of all the things her father ever taught her, two stuck out specifically in her mind. One: The only boy a girl can depend on is her daddy. And two: Never, ever, walk alone in a dark alley. It should have been obvious to avoid the alley. Nothing good ever comes from the dark. But all she was trying to do was get back into the bar to rejoin Kennedy.
A span of twenty minutes was the reason why Cassidy was bundled up in bed, the blankets pulled tightly over her body, with a scarf around her neck. Twenty minutes was the reason she had been like this for three days, constantly replaying the nightmare over and over in her head.
When Kennedy asked what was going on, and Cassidy didn’t respond, she took it as something to do with Jamie. Like he had called in from his road trip and broken up with her, or admitted that he hooked up with some random chick but still loved Cassidy. Both of those possibilities seemed better than what had actually gone on.
Like she had many times that day, Cassidy’s mind involuntarily drifted back to the night.
“Where in the hell?!” She yelled to herself while in the driver seat of her car. Her cell phone was nowhere to be found; not in her purse and clearly not anywhere in the car.
Knowing that Jamie would text her soon, she dug through her purse, unable to find her phone. That’s when Kennedy mentioned something about how it might’ve gotten left in the car. And wanting to be able to respond to Jamie, she went out to the parking lot out back to search.
When she actually found it somehow stuffed between the center console and the driver seat, she tapped the screen, groaning as she had missed Jamie’s call, leaving him no other option but to leave a voicemail.
“Hey Cass, just wanted to call and check in. We’re in Anaheim now, playing tomorrow night and then one more game in Arizona. I guess you’re out with Kennedy, so I’ll just talk to you tomorrow. Be safe. Bye.”
Be safe.
After the line went dead, Cassidy shoved her phone into her wristlet, ready to go back into the bar. She shut her car door and pushed the lock button until the horn sounded. Before she could reach the front of the bar to go back inside, she felt a tug on her arm, followed by a violent shove, sending her into the brick wall of the darkened alley.
The back of her head hit against the sturdy wall, and Cassidy felt herself go dizzy. When she was able to open her eyes again, her vision was blurry, only able to see the silhouette of a person in front of her. Man or woman, she didn’t know. But the silhouette reached for her, fingers locking around her neck.
Definitely a man, she thought to herself.
She gurgled out a scream, only to have the fingers wrap tighter around her neck, and a low, raspy voice threaten, “if you make noise, I’m going to hurt you.”
Her vision was almost back now, but her eyelids felt heavy, and she felt sleepy, most likely due to the fact that the man’s fingers were pressing against the arteries and veins in her neck, cutting off the rapid supply of blood to her brain. But she forced herself to stay awake. No way in hell she was going down like this.
Although she didn’t believe she knew the man, she believed she knew the reason why he felt his attack was provoked. Cassidy had opted for a rather short dress for the night out, partially encouraged by Kennedy. Now with the man’s free hand snaking up the bottom of her dress, his intentions were clear.
Cassidy struggled against him, trying to free herself from his grip, but the much larger man took things a step further. He pressed his body against Cassidy’s, keeping her still beneath him, while his fingers pushed her thong to the side and began playing with her slit. The man smirked viciously as Cassidy attempted to move her hips to the side, and he pressed his waist against her. Immediately she felt his erection against her leg, and despite his threat, she screamed out for help, only to have the man’s hand squeeze her neck roughly, turning her scream into a squeak.
She tried to scream again as he pushed his fingers upward, and in an odd twist of fate, God decided now was the time to step in. A car pulled into the driveway, headlights shining along the brick wall. Spooked, the man pulled his hand out from beneath Cassidy’s dress, released her neck and whispered, “have a nice night,” before running off into the darkness. She took a few deep breaths, regaining whatever composure she could, and rushed into the bar, finding Kennedy in the middle of a group of boys.
By the time she coerced Kennedy to get into the car so they could go home, Cassidy could feel her neck stinging. In Kennedy’s drunken state, she didn’t notice the marks and didn’t ask what had taken so long. Once home, Cassidy rushed to the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Along with the red fingerprints scattered across her neck were scratches.
Cassidy pulled off her dress, got changed into her pajamas, circled a scarf around her neck and crawled into bed, pulling the blankets up over her head.
That’s how she got where she was; same position, same pajamas, same shitty situation. Only now, Kennedy had begun to worry, growing impatient with the fact that the most Cassidy had eaten in three days was a granola bar. It didn’t matter what she thought, though. The night it happened, Cassidy really needed Kennedy; needed her to be sober, and needed her company. Now that the alcohol had left her system, she felt like she was entitled to some information. But she wasn’t.
The bedroom door opened slowly and Cassidy stared at it, waiting to see Kennedy and endure another long lecture. But it wasn’t Kennedy, and at first Cassidy didn’t even recognize the man in front of her. She hadn’t seen him in three weeks, and now with the moustache inhabiting his upper lip, he seemed unidentifiable.
Jamie walked in and shut the door behind him, pushing his hands into his pant pockets as he stood at the side of the bed, wearing a dark suit. He’d obviously just come from the airport after the nearly three week long road trip.
“Kennedy tells me you won’t eat, you won’t leave your bed, you won’t shower…” He chewed on his lower lip, “you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Cassidy remained silent, just staring at him. He may have not looked like old, typical Jamie, but he sure as hell sounded like him. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and she stared at his motions carefully. When he set his hand on top of her hip, she flinched beneath his touch, sending her body tense.
He furrowed his eyebrows and squeezed his fingers around her hip gently. All the while, her eyes glared at his hand. “You just missed me, you wanted me back?” When she shifted beneath the blankets, the sheet moved down just enough to reveal the scarf. “What’s with this?”
She stayed quiet again, and now Jamie was growing visibly frustrated. He reached forward and grabbed at the scarf, pulling it down to reveal her neck. When he saw the bruises and scratches, the muscles in his jaw pulsated as he clenched his teeth together.
“Who did this to you?” For now, he was as calm as he possibly could be. But when Cassidy refused to answer him, he yelled louder, “who did this to you?!”
“I don’t know!” she shrieked, shrinking away from him, backing up closer to the wall behind her bed. Jamie was still angry, his fists now clenched in his lap. Cassidy took a deep breath and closed her eyes, “I was out with Kennedy, went back to the car to get my phone…” She glanced up at Jamie, her eyes emotionless, “some guy attacked me.”
Jamie stood up quickly, pushing his hands into his pockets as though he were searching for something, “which bar were you at?” He moved towards the door.
“Jamie, don’t.” She sat up and reached out to stop him. Although she couldn’t touch him, the motion at least made him pause for a moment, “it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does. Which bar were you at?” He looked down at her impatiently, growing more and more aggravated with each passing second.
“We were at Arrow. But you’ll never find the guy, Jamie. I don’t even know what he looked like.”
Her words seemed to pull Jamie back to reality. He ran an anxious hand over his mouth, “did he rape you?”
Cassidy shook her head slightly, folding her arms across her chest, “he molested me.” She wiped her eyes quickly. Having spent the past three days crying about it, she was done.
Jamie walked to her bed and sat down, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Although she didn’t reciprocate, but rather felt tense in his arms, he didn’t move, and instead pressed his lips against the side of her head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you…”
“It’s not your job to protect me,” Cassidy interrupted. She turned her head away from him.
“I’m making it my job. I love you and I’m not going to stand by idly and watch someone fuck with you. They’re gonna go through me, and there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
She pressed her hands against Jamie’s chest until he released her. Slowly, she lay back in bed and pulled the blankets back up over her neck. Feeling unwanted, Jamie stood up and exited her bedroom, closing the door behind him. Just outside, he spotted Kennedy and nodded his head towards the living room, urging her to follow him.
“I heard the whole thing. Jamie, if I had known…”
He nodded and held up his hand as if to reassure her that he knew she would do anything in her power to help Cassidy. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to pick her up. I want her to stay with me for awhile.”
“But,”
Jamie shook his head, “this guy took Cassidy’s trust and faith that people are intrinsically good. I fell in love with a girl who believed that no one could intentionally do harm. She doesn’t trust me; I saw it in her eyes when I sat next to her.” He paused and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need time with her. I need her to trust that I’m not going to hurt her.”
Kennedy nodded, knowing that Jamie was right. “If you want her trust back, I’d start with shaving that moustache. You don’t look like yourself, and she’s going to want to see a face she recognizes.”
He ran one hand over his facial hair, taking a deep breath in. “I’ll be by tomorrow morning. If you can, try to have a bag packed for her.” As he pulled open the front door, he looked back at Kennedy, “you’re welcome to come by the house anytime. I don’t want her to think I’m isolating her from everyone.”
Notes
This chapter is titled after "If You're Going Through Hell (Before The Devil Even Knows) by Rodney Atkins.
I know this was an unexpected twist, but I hope y'all like where this story is headed!
please update!!!!
5/2/16