Wednesday January 16th, 2013 - 7:20 P.M. - Main Street Cortland, N.Y. Outside Corey's Apartment
The coldness of that quickly darkening January night, had already been setting in before Samantha and Layla pulled up to Corey's apartment. The violation that man placed upon her, did nothing but rot Samantha from the inside out. Even as she saw the police vehicle getting closer and closer, her stomach had been flipping around. "It's because you're pregnant honey." There it was again. The unmistakable voice of Dianne Orlando, speaking to her as if the woman were right beside her. She ignored the disembodied voice and instead focused her mind onto the two girls standing outside the cop car.
Behind the blonde in the front was the short, pale skinned friend of hers, Emmy. That beautiful, Asian/American woman seemed to be the only one with worry on her face. Since being told she was pregnant after being raped by the piece of shit in front of her, a certain numbness took over her body. Not when that distraught look on Emmy's face surfaced. Samantha could feel the corners of her mouth twitching a bit; she quickly hid it from her friend, as to not look crazy in front of her. Instead she peered over at the gray interior of the jeep; the cool, smooth surface of the leather graciously met her fingertips.
She wanted nothing more than to be done with all of this shit and move on with her life. The sad thing was that she knew no matter what, there'd always be a solid reminder of that night. The burning sensation had been long gone by this point in time, but now this. The baby already had a month's time to start planting itself firmly into her womb and was growing bigger by every day. All of this infuriated her; she finally forced herself to look up, realizing they had finally parked. Without even a moment's thought, her door was open and she was stepping out into the snappy air. Every single gust of wind ran invisible blades across her warm skin; she didn't care though.
Nothing would break her endless gaze as it continued to stare down the women before her. In her peripheral she saw the back of the guy who forever fucked her life up, resting warmly in the backseat. Had it not been for Lizzie's mutterings of "Oh shit," the anger would've still been building. "How about you keep that look on your face? Just for a short while. It's pretty entertaining to see this girl who's bullied you for most of your life, look so scared." An unmistakable buzz of surprise clicked within her. "That's the man's voice from my dream. Wh-Who are you?" She hadn't even realized that her gaze had changed to the snow covered sidewalk.
Or even the fact that her body was completely numb, seeing as she only had her jogging outfit on. The shivers; the goose bumps; not even her giant puffs of hot air would jar her back to her real reality. Instead she stayed focused on the alternate version of it, which was like a conference call. Though a physical appearance couldn't be placed for the two voices conversing with her, she still felt welcomed by them.
"First off, I'd like to apologize for what we're about to do to you." The man was speaking; he sounded legitimately apologetic. "Why are you saying these… words." It took everything she had to finish that statement before the shaking began. Just like before, it started with her hands. "There go the knees; ow! Why are you doing this? Ow!" Her arm had just slammed hard onto the edge of the sidewalk. "Shit!" The deep voiced cop had just spotted her. She could see him, at least through her blurry vision, as he ran around the other side of his car. When he spoke next, his voice was garbled and getting lower.
"This is Officer Alan O'Mara from the Cortland P.D. requesting an ambulance. We're at the four way intersection on main street, beside the Cortland Standard, please hurry, she's having a seizure!" She felt a pair of large, cool hands grasping her face and this time, his own could be made out. His head is long, with big ears, a large nose with a medium sized mouth and a thick mustache. It all tied together with the large chin and wide jaw line. "I'm Officer O'Mara, can you tell me your name?" Like before, his voice got inhumanely low over time. "Her name's Samantha Hive." The man looked away from her quickly.
"You should release him, girl. We can't exact our revenge on the bastard until he's released. If you don't, then he'll surely be processed within the next day or so." The man's voice returned and he sounded worried. Samantha was unable to stop the tears; they slid down her face, leaving a long frozen trail. Everything around her was blurred, quickly becoming too much for her to even make anything out.
"I was told to turn the other cheek; it's what Jesus would do…" She wanted to say more, but the seizure was making it incredibly hard for words to even be processed. "I'm so sorry about this by the way. We'll explain this later; listen. My name is Klyde Orlando, I'm Dianne's wife. I heard she already exposed herself, which is fine." O'Mara's voice came back, cutting off their conversation. He was still looking away from her; the back of his head looked so smooth. "What's your name?" "L-Layla." "Right, Layla, get down here and grab her legs. She's having probably one of the worst seizures I've ever laid my eyes on."
A second or two passed when she felt two sets of soft fingers grasping her calves. Her head jerked back; both eyes were rolling up a bit as the seizure hit its peak. Froth had begun pouring from her mouth and her tears were mere streams at this point. She could barely see the two distorted objects that she knew were Lizzie and Emmy. Both of which were talking quickly to each other; too quickly for her to be able to pick up. "We really should explain this to her." Dianne had returned from her semi-silence. "Why won't it s-stop?" Samantha wanted all of this to finish so she could finally be free of the torment.
She couldn't help but notice her voice sounded like she was whimpering. It took her some time to try and place the accent that these two had, finally it clicked. "You two are from New Jersey?" "Yes we are darlin'!" She actually smiled; despite her skin feeling frozen stiff. "What's wrong with her?" Layla's was the last voice she heard before slipping completely into that internal trance. She hadn't even been aware that a stretcher was placed beneath hear.
Or when she was pushed into the back of an ambulance and was speeding off. From time to time however, her mind came back from that now welcoming darkness. Bits and pieces of a conversation took hold, starting with a concerned female EMT to her left. Samantha was unable to open her eyes, no matter how hard she tried, but she could still hear everything. "What could have caused this? Wasn't she just released from the hospital today?" There hadn't been any type of accent to this voice at all. "I feel so vulnerable! Why do I have to be such a fucking weak person?" "Hush now, girl. You're not a weak person. You're just kind, that's all!"
"Klyde's right honey, do not mistake kindness with weakness. Jesus himself was a very kind, loving person. Even when he was put up on the cross; do you mistake that for weakness? Throughout all his pain and suffering, he still prayed that us humans could be saved from our sins. Now, none of us are nowhere near as perfect as him, but that doesn't mean we can't be Jesus-like," Dianne said. Just then Samantha felt her head jolt, followed by an enormously sharp pain. "Oww!" "Watch out for those potholes!" the woman yelled. It was at this point, a bright light poured into Samantha's eyes.
"You're coming out of the seizure now honey, we have to go for now. Don't worry, we'll always be here…" Dianne's soothing voice faded away, echoing all the while. Klyde hadn't even said anything at all; he was already gone. Sure enough, her body had stopped shaking, and all her muscles would do is jitter a bit. Everything was coming into focus now; the woman she heard before became more and more defined by the second.
Her nose seemed like a semi-long beak. Her cheeks were slightly pudgy, and her skin was pale. She had red lips and pure red hair, tied up into a bun. "Welcome back!" Samantha just nodded back. She wanted to keep taking in her surroundings, but her head refused to stop aching. "I was told that… Well you're a month along now and I wanted to make sure there wasn't… any bruising…" A series of pokes and prods were made on her flesh as the EMT continued to inspect her. When this woman mentioned the pregnancy, everything came back that she tried so hard to stash away.
Why'd you mention it? Damn it! I thought this was all just one big nightmare. Why can't it just be a horrible dream?! Why can't I just wake up and be back at the college? God… What did I do to deserve this punishment? Was it because I cut myself? Is it because of the drugs?! What did I do so bad that warranted what's happened to me?! Where were you when I most needed you?! Question upon question dropped in her head. Her chest was hurting now; depression finally dug itself up from its past grave and came at her, enraged and ready to destroy her life forever.
The doors flew open and a series of EMT's withdrew her. Above, the night sky welcomed her back, with snow flakes freshly dropping. All of her senses were kicked into high gear now, seeing as her visual movement was incredibly limited. She could smell her putrid body odor, seeing as she was unable to shower yet. The wheels of her stretcher rotated fast on the slush covered pavement. She heard a set of doors burst open behind her, followed by hurried voices, muttering random medical gibberish to each other. "Just close your eyes honey, we're coming back." and she did.
* * * *
7:45 P.M.
Car Ride to Police Station/Police Station Interior
Corey kept looking at his feet, refusing to stare out his window. He could practically feel his freedom slipping on by as they got closer to his doom. Not even O'Mara's continuous comments about him being a pig or how a rapist always get it in the ass in jail; none of that jarred him. He just kept all his focus onto his old gym shoes, that were torn up the side a bit. "We're gonna be arriving at the jail in a little while, do you have anything you'd like to say before I pull in?" He wasn't listening; his thoughts were deep inside his head at this point.
"Okay, if that's how it's gonna be. You know… Layla, Samantha's friend, told me that she didn't want to press any charges. The girl thought that she could make this sort of decision just because she was Samantha's health care proxy. I'm sure that isn't true, but I want to help them out. So we'll be holding you for at least twenty four hours, to see if she calls or not. If she does, then you're free to go. Here we are!" Corey finally felt the courage to look out his window and then dread. For most of his life, he walked or drove past these buildings. The one straight ahead, going straight up towards the sky, with a rounded section on top, was the court house building.
And for those moments of his past, he never dreamed he'd be actually put through one of them. The glowing lights of the jail came closer to them, until the car parked. This square shaped building looked so eerie at night, especially knowing he would be put in there soon enough. Seconds later, he was being pulled out of the car and yanked alongside the massive officer.
As they entered, a main desk could be seen where another officer was doing paperwork. Corey kept staring at the floor, as his embarrassment refused to let him do otherwise. Within moments of entering that building he already could feel the impending horrors from within. Way off in the distance, a loud buzzer went off, followed by metal sliding along a track, and the happy whistling escaping an officer who sounded like he ended his shift. "What do ya got there O'Mara?" the man's voice sounded raspy and old. "This… Is Corey Smith. The man who raped Samantha Hive." "Ahhh. So we have ourselves a rapist here, eh?"
A pen dropped on the desk, but Corey kept watching his feet. He was able to take in just how enormous O'Mara's hand was; his heart jumped. Then, on the left side of his neck he felt hot, onion smelling breath. "Look at me when I speak to you boy." He detected a hint of a southern accent now. "It seems we got ourselves a tough one!" The most horrendous laugh Corey had ever heard rang through his ear. O'Mara had followed suit, making his right ear ring even louder. "Ahh. It's always nice to have a good laugh, ain't it?" "Sure is boss. Did you hear about what Miss Hive wanted?"
"Can't say that I did, what was that?" The man was sucking on something now, purposely putting his mouth close to Corey's ear. He felt so disgusting and yet so infuriated by the way these people were treating him, though he knew that it wasn't truly them who angered him most. He was mostly upset with himself for allowing what he did to actually happen. "Did ya hear that boy?" The old man's question was more than enough to dissolve the little bubble Corey was in. "N-No sir." "Speak up." "I-I said n-no s-s-sir."
An old hand grasped his throat, forcing him to look at his surroundings. His airways were being restricted, but not to the point where he'd pass out. It was just enough to keep his attention flowing. "Look at me boy!" His head was forced over; the old man came fully into site now. His mustache was long, running down past his chin. He had low cheekbones, somewhat wrinkled skin, a landing strip bald patch on top with white hair. It was the man's small ears and large, widened nose that drew Corey in the most. That and those cold, steel gray eyes that would not blink for nothing.
"I am Chief Neal Bale and I've been working here before you could even wipe your own ass and I've seen a lot of fucked up shit in my life. Nothing disgusts me more than a pedophile and a rapist, and you just happen to be one of those things. Sure, I appreciate the fact that you don't like to see or touch little kids, but I don't like the fact that you had to force yourself onto a helpless person." The way the chief cocked his head; it stirred Corey's insides. He hated this man with a fiery passion and was helpless to defend himself.
"I see the way you act all angry and try to scare me off, but it won't work." Corey watched as the man got close again, leaving only an inch between their faces. A thick smell of tobacco came into full effect now. "Do you like to rape women? You love it when they scream for help, don't ya? It's the only thing that gets you off, isn't it?! Answer me boy!" Corey gulped; sweat formed on the back of his neck. "I-I've regretted it e-ever s-since sir." Just that response; he knew he showed fear in his voice. A loud smack sounded; his left cheek stung, almost making him tear up.
"I have a zero tolerance rule for sick little pigs like you. You're lucky that girl may not want to book ya; God knows why, but you hear me and do it well." The man grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to lock once more. "You best pray she actually calls and stops the processing. After twenty four hours are up and she doesn't say a thing, I'm gonna process and book your ass so fast that you'll have a new fuck buddy be the end of tomorrow night!" He let go, allowing Corey to turn away. Don't you dare cry! Don't show these men that you're weak! "Put this man into a holding cell and don't let him out until I say otherwise.
He felt the giant officer tugging him along, as they passed by the front desk. A hallway ran down this side, lined with numerous amounts of doors. They walked quickly past them, getting closer to the huge iron door he heard earlier. It seemed to taunt his very soul; the way the rust formed on the edges and the bright red light that glowed above it; it was all the more scary. "Open up the holding cell block." The loud buzz made him jump. It sounded like a tractor trailer had just honked inches in front of him. His heart raced a thousand times a minute as they passed through to the holding cells.
This hallway was just like the last, with doors lining each side and LED lights blaring an intense white all the way down to an office at the end. All of the doors were thick steel gates like the main one. "Open up Cell R-F!" As another buzzer sounded off, Corey tried to keep his cool. Inside this cell were a few other men, all of which were much more muscular than him. "Hey guys! I just wanted to let y'all know that this guy here…" he felt himself jump as O'Mara grabbed his shoulder. "He's a rapist! Have fun you four!" The door slid behind him, clanged shut; the sound of men cracking their knuckles followed suit. His life as he knew it could be at its end right here and now. All he could do to try and block out the inevitable forthcoming pain, was to let his mind wander off. It helped for a short while until the first, bone crunching blow dropped him to his knees.