Akira

"Fuck." Man behind me pants in raspy voice. His hand going to my back, clutching me tightly.

A pained whimper escapes me.

"Stop! leave me." My voice is muffle against his palms. To get myself free from his hold, I twist my arms forcefully.

Ahh!

That hurts.

"Now, why would I do that? When I finally have you." I can't see him in dark but I can feel he is taller than me, he is smelling like smoke and alcohol, it is somewhat familiar. The smell repels me, I turn away from him, swallowing a lump.

"Waited so fucking long."

Waited?

Does he know me?

Oh my God!

Don't panic Ira. Think of something.

I exhale in compliance.

Try to use what Logan taught you!

I try to recall his every lessons in self defense.

Calculating my moves, I decide to take the risk. I take a step back, pushing my body to him. He seems to like it and his hand on my mouth loosens. I cringe when his other hand reaches my inner thigh, squeezing it tightly.

I wait for him to release my mouth.

And he does.

Lowering his hand he tries to touch my breasts. I pause a beat to distract him and then without giving him any chance to grab me, I spin around, shoving him back before lifting my knees, kicking in his balls.

Hard.

Serves you right!

You monster!

He doubles over in pain, crying, "Son of bitch!"

I back away, not giving him any second thought, I turn away from him.

And run.

I keep my pace fast. My eyes are burning with unshed tears. I brush my cheeks with the back of my hand. I search for a washroom.

"Could you please tell me, where washroom is?" Spotting a blue hair girl, I ask.

She looks baffled from my state, "Yeah sure. That last door to right corner, but are you okay?" I can't tell if she really wants to know or just formality.

I don't care, really.

I nod, "Yes I am. Thank you."

With that said, I sprint past her, toward right.

Walking with wobbling legs I try to think about that man. He felt somewhat familiar but I can't pin the the exact memory of him.

Who was he?

What did he mean by 'waited'?

I recall the fear I felt when he grabbed me, I was terrified. Hell, I'm still scared, I am shaking. When that man touched me, I felt myself going back to those dark places, I don't ever want to go. I feel dirty and disgusted. This was the second time I've felt like this. Last time Logan was there to help me and he helped me this time too, whether indirectly.

Thank you Logan.

I stop outside the door.

And open it.

I gasp.

All breath once again leaves my body, but this time in disdain.

In a very awful way.

Oh my heart.

It takes the sickening blow painfully.

All my past tremor vanishes in air like dust, conceiving a new surge of grief, anguish and misery as I take in the scene beholds opposite me.

My body goes numb.

And my heart breaks a bit more.

In the middle of room is Romero, occupying a couch, his hands on arm of it and his head thrown back at the head of it. He has his jacket offed of him and still manages to take my breath away with just folded sleeves.

But that's not shocking, it is the orange haired girl, who is kneeling on floor between his legs. Her hands on his thighs and she is just in her bra and skirt.

Crack!

My heart shatters it's broken part.

They both turn to look at me for disturbance. I look at Romero first, his face is blank and stoic as he stares at me impassively. If he is somehow aghast to see me, he doesn't show it. Nor he pulls away from her. He just stares, like always.

He holds not even hint of uneasiness,

Or recognition.

I feel appalled, sick, nauseous. My face must be displaying all the sickness I feel at the moment.

It doesn't affect him though.

Not even a bit.

Carina on the other hand, doesn't seem to like my intrusion for her face turns into ugly sneer, "You wanna join to fuck?"

My face warms despite my condition, "No! I...I'm s..sorry. I...I j...just washroom." I stutter backing away, swallowing a hard lump formed in my throat.

Oh God!

It's real.

Not a dream,

But a living nightmare.

My nightmare.

Her face twists more before she spits, "Then get the fuck out of here, bitch."

I don't need to be told twice, I scurry away, kicking my numbness away, shutting the door but not before I witness a dark look on his emotionless face when it snaps toward her.

I don't give it any thought, knowing it would just mess me more.

I hastily reach to next door which has 'washroom' sign on it.

How did I not see it before?

How could I be so stupid to walk in there, without even knocking?

Locking it firmly, I lean to it closing my eyes. Heart thumping loudly against my ribs. Tears of embarrassment wells up, burning my eyes. I feel so ashamed.

He is having sex just after he kissed me. He really think of that kiss as mistake, doesn't he? I am a foolish girl to even imagine things in my head.

Pathetic.

I am, aren't I?

I can't believe how I thought of our kiss as special. I thought he had also felt something for it. I remember the look on his face, the intensity of his eyes, was it all just an act?

Am I really that naive?

For some unknown reason, I believed that look. I never thought of them as part of his game. I thought it was real.

Oh I'm so stupid.

I fell for that. For his game, like usual. I feel more disgusted than before.

I recall how calm and relax he seemed when she was touching him privately, like it didn't matter to him that I was watching this.

A sudden wave of nausea hit me. I crouch down by sink, throwing everything out. Tears stream down absentmindedly. I sob silently letting everything out as I start throwing up again.

How long it would take before I finally break?

How long it would take my heart to finally die?

How long it would be before I totally gave in?

Stop it!

I know I should but its not that simple to let go.

Infact it's opposite.

It takes my full effort to even try to compose myself back. I close my eyes shut when a sudden memory that man who attacked me earlier, terrorizes me. A shudder runs through down my spines because of it. I need shower to remove his touch from my body. I shake my head to get rid of the thought, for now and force my self to relax.

If only that was easy.

I pick out a tissue paper, wiping my smudge mascara around my eyes to my whole cheeks.

That's why I don't do make up. I shouldn't have listened to Sydney.

I glance back at my reflection, now I'm more like old Ira. Without make up one. Heaving a one last sigh, I come out of the foor, distracting my self to not think about anything else, anyone to be exact.

I make my way downstairs, in living room. It's still crowded and music is still blaring. I pay no mind to anyone anf I search for any known face but I find none. Not wanting to ruin there fun too, I take my leave.

I'm worn out.

Feeling drained from every bit of energy, I get out of front door and sit at curb. There are not many people around.

My head hurts, my heart hurts. My everything is hurting. My brain is numb and can't think clear. Even my body is not my own. I'm dead tired from this eventful night. I just want leave from here and have shower.

I think of calling Dev but then I remember his mother and sister are alone. I can't just call him and he must be sleeping anyway. I try to think what to do next.

I pick out my phone and go through the contacts. Selecting a number, I dwell a little before I press the green button.

He picks it up on third ring, "Hey angel. Miss me?" His cheerful voice comes through the line warming my heart.

I don't know why but hearing his voice makes my crack up, a sobs slips me, "Hi Alex." I speak hoarsely.

I can practically see his frown, "What's wrong?" He asks, worry dripping in his words.

"Can you pick me up, please?" I ask quietly brushing the unwanted tears away.

Please say yes, I really don't want to hear no.

"Sure where are you?" He still sounds worry.

"I...I don't know but I think at some second frat house." I reply unsure, distantly recalling Sydney telling me about it.

"On my way." With that he hangs up. He has studied from here so he must know about it.

Leaning against a wall, I close my eyes, forcing it to relax, not wanting to have a another melt down.

I wait for him.

And for this night to get over.