Because of him, I ask, “Do any of you know where the university is by chance?”
“Do I look like I’m from here?” The southerner chuckles again.
The gentle-eyed man steps forward. “It’s on the other side of the graveyard. Once you pass the gates, you’ll see the entrance for the university.”
“Thank you,” I say emphatically.
Gathering Brooke, I lift her up and sling her arm over my shoulder. Side-by-side we step into the graveyard. It’s dark and hard to see, but thankfully the moon is full and bright, which gives me enough light to find my way through. I continue down a pathway intended for cars to drive on instead of walking on the grass where the tombstones are.
Brooke and I pick up the pace when the drizzles turn into rain. Our clothes are beginning to soak through, and my feet squeak into my flats. I hear heavy footsteps behind us, so I stop and turn around. The three guys are running our way, yelling out for us—something about how we forgot something. The one with gentle eyes is waving a purse in the air as he jogs our way. I search over Brooke’s body and, sure enough, she left her bag behind.
“You forgot this.” He extends the purse.
“Thanks.” I reach for it, but he pulls back. I look up at him, my chest clenching in fear.
“My friends and I were wondering if you girls were willing to have a little fun.” The other two step forward, one on each side of gentle eyes.
“I’m just trying to get my sister home.” I swipe away the soaked strands of hair plastered to the side of my face. With my other hand, I grip Brooke tightly and pull her behind me, shielding her from them.
The gentleness in his eyes instantly fades, replaced with something akin to hatred. Terror shivers up my spine. From the look in his eyes, I know we’re in trouble. I step back, forcing Brooke to step back as well.
“I think you misunderstood,” he says while his sidekicks quickly come over and grab Brooke.
“Let her go!” I go after them, but not-so-gentle eyes quickly yanks me to him. He pulls my back against his chest, sealing his arms around my shoulders and stomach, effectively locking my arms to my sides.
“We’re going to have fun first,” he insists, his lips touching the curve of my ear. I squirm beneath his hold.
“Let me go!” I struggle beneath him.
“No!” Brooke yells. I look over in the direction of her voice. The two men have her pinned down, her face against the mud. Tears burn my eyes.
“Stop it! Don’t hurt her! Please!” I try to fight. I kick. I scream. But I’m not strong enough.
“You’re going to watch.” He tightens his arm around my stomach and brings his other hand to my face, keeping it steady.
Brooke tries to fight. Her fingers dig into the side of one man’s face, but it only pisses him off. Groaning, he closes a fist and plows it into her nose. Blood gushes out as her head smacks into the ground.
“NO!” I buck, trying to break free. No. No. No.
The one who punched her tears her dress open and laughs. He laughs! How could he be enjoying this? The other man pins Brooke’s hands over her head. Her panties and bra are torn off.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I want to throw up.
I shut my eyes tight.
Grunts from him. Cries from her. She continues to fight. Another crunch of her bones, cracking from a blow. More groaning. More punches. More cries.
“My turn,” the other says excitedly. There’s shuffling as they switch positions. And then the noises begin again.
Brooke cries.
I collapse into the evil man, my eyelids fixed shut. I never want to see again.
I can’t.
I can’t.
My stomach churns, bile rises up in my throat, and then I jerk, vomiting over and over again.
Then a heavy blow to the back of my head from my captor’s fist. “You fuckin’ cunt!” he spits out. “Don’t worry your little heart out. You’re next.”
Sobs escape me as I hear the two men take Brooke over and over again until her cries die down to whimpers. After they have their way with her, I’m tossed to ground, my shoes flying off in the process. I dig my fingers into the muddy grass, trying to grip onto something and pull myself up. A kick to my stomach forces all the air out of my lungs, and I collapse back to the ground.
Finally I have the courage to open my eyes. I choke over a sob when I see her. Brooke is to my right about an arm’s length away. I barely recognize her. Her face his drenched in blood. Her nose is brutally broken. Her cheekbones are so swollen she can barely open her eyes. Her breath wheezes. She tries to speak through her split, puffy lips. “Get…” she struggles.
I can hear my captor’s zipper pull open. “Help,” she manages. “Run,” she whispers.
Before I can respond, I’m dragged down by my feet, screaming out for help. But it’s not enough. I’m flipped over, and my back slams against the sodden, filthy ground. My attacker’s eyes are dark now as an evil smirk spreads along his face. One of the guys is over by Brooke, putting his pants back on. The other is on standby, keeping an eye out for anyone coming.
I hear Brooke’s words in my head over and over again. To run. To get help. My chest heaves and without hesitating, as the evil bastard bends at the knees, I lift my foot and kick him in the balls with as much strength as I can manage. He screams, grabbing his crotch, and I waste no time scrambling away from him to stand and run.
I dart through the graveyard, my lungs burning for air. I continue, pushing harder, one foot in front of the other. The rough terrain cuts my feet, but I keep going. I need to get help. I need to find help.
I can hear someone yelling behind me, a familiar voice. My captor. I sprint for my life, for Brooke’s life. I’m almost near the cemetery exit. I see the large black metal fence and a guard in a golf cart patrolling. I flail my arms, screaming and yelling as I keep going. A flash of light shines my way, reflecting through the heavy rain. It makes me scream louder, run harder. The guard sees me!
Then I slip and fall. My head bangs against a tombstone, splitting open as blood gushes down my eye. I can’t move. Everything is a daze. I try to get up, but I can’t. My eyes shift to the side. A tombstone inscribed with ‘Beloved Woman, Sister, and Friend’ swims before me. The letters fade into one another, and then a light. I squint and hear a voice asking me if I’m okay. The guard’s voice.
I shut my eyes and drift.
I cut off the ignition and lean back, staring out the windshield. I didn’t want to leave Jenna behind at my place all alone. It’s been two days since the dinner with her parents and the memory of what happened the night Brooke died resurfaced. When she told me what happened, in full-blown tears, I could barely understand anything she said. Her words were unintelligible.