For as long as I could remember, I've walked to school. When I moved to Tally, I made sure my apartment was within walking distance of my classrooms. Sometimes, my projects run late at night. My friends with cars always offer me rides after it gets dark. They worry if I'll make it home ok. I've never worried, though.
I was walking home one night, later than I usually do. Normally, I have my headphones on while I walk. I had a feeling in the bottom of my stomach that I shouldn't wear them tonight. I didn't notice anyone as I was walking past the courtyard. Before I knew it, there was one hand on the back of my neck and another wrapped around my waist, forced up underneath my sweatshirt. "Keep walking," a low voice whispered in my ear. As something sharp flashed up my side where his hand was- not his hand but a knife pressing into my side. His other hand was holding the back of my neck so I couldn't turn and get a glimpse of who was taking me.
We sculled along, any passers by would have assumed we were a couple embarrassing each other. He could sense when I was about to try something and pushed the knife firmer into my side. He pushed me towards a basement door or a maintenance room. A door that should be locked but wasn't. He let go of the back of my neck to grab the door handle. I saw this as my opportunity to run. He was too fast. I was caught by the collar of my sweatshirt. I could hear some of the fabric ripping, but it didn't rip enough for me to slip from his grip. He pulled me through the door and pinned me against the inside wall with all his weight.
His chest against my arms, my arms against my side, my back against the wall. I was panicking now. Now, no one was going to find me here. One of his hands had moved to cover my mouth and nose. Had I screamed? I couldn't remember. My heart was beating too fast. I could grasp just enough air through his fingers to stay conscious. He kept me like that for a few seconds. He didn't have to say anything, but I knew the only way I would make it out was if I played the toy he wanted. He lessoned his weight on my chest but firmly held my skull into the wall with the hand covering my mouth. He took his knife away from my stomach and started out lining half of my heart-shaped face. He knew exactly how much pressure he could put on my skin without drawing blood. He told me to be a good girl, and it would all be over soon as the corners of his mouth arched up with a smirk.
The hand with the knife reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip tie handcuffs. He stuffed it in my hands. My arms were now unpinned, but he pressed my skull harder into the wall. The knife came back up to outline the other half of my heart-shaped face. I looked at his face, mostly hidden by the shadow of a hood. He looked at my hands impatiently, wondering why they hadn't completed the assignment. My hands were shaking so much that I kept fumbling to pull the ties tight around my wrists. Once I had them as tight as I could manage, he stuffed something in my mouth and tightened them a little more.
I'm not sure how, but he swept my legs out from under me, and I fell down hard. I felt my pelvis hit the concrete floor. I knew I was going to have a bruise there tomorrow. He grabbed a chunk of my hair on the top of my head and pulled it back, pinning my head to the wall. I had fallen with my knees tucked in front of my chest. With his knife at my eye, maybe the tip was half an inch from my eyelashes, he whispered, "Spread your legs." I wasn't sure what would happen if I didn't, but I knew I didn't want to find out. I extended my legs in a v shape. His hand full of my hair, kept my head against the wall. The knife left my vision and snaked down to my shorts. "I'll only cut you if you move," he said. He was accurate. I felt the cool metal of the knife touch my lips only once. He cut through my shorts and underwear.