⚠️ Trigger warning ~ Adult themes, violence. ⚠️

I remember it all, just like it was yesterday, well, most of it... I think...

I was at my local pub. It was a Saturday night in autumn. The weather was just right, not too hot but also not cold enough to need a jacket. I was wearing black flares and black boots with a heel much higher than I was used to ~ and I was pretty impressed with how well I was navigating in the heels after a few too many wines. Up top, I was wearing a shimmering silver singlet top covered in sequins. It sounds atrocious, but it was pretty stylish for the times. I was never a huge makeup girl, but I had a small amount on, a little powder, a little eyeliner, lip gloss and mascara, to offer some highlights.

My friends and I often went to our local pub for a few drinks, a game of pool and to catch up with each other after our busy work weeks. There were ten of us on this particular night, and by about 10pm, I was the only one left and not quite ready to go home.

I purchased another drink at the bar and moved into the pokies area of the pub. Mainly because it was the only place, you could sit at a pub independently and not look like a massive loser.

I put a twenty dollar note in Queen of the Nile, my favourite poker machine and slowly started throwing my money down the drain. A favourite pastime of mine... Because let's be honest, does anyone ever really come out on top playing pokies?

I'd just about finished my vodka mixer when the guy sitting at the machine next to me turned and asked if he could buy me a drink.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure. I was 23, and I wasn't stunning by any stretch of the imagination.

I was tall and plain with long, blonde hair, blue eyes and a slight tan; I was of average build, indeed, nothing to write home about, with something akin to fried eggs in the bust department. Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't say I was completely hideous, maybe a step or two up from Frankenstein's bride. But I certainly wasn't a knockout like most of my friends; I was undoubtedly the black sheep, and everyone knew it. 

Out of all of us, I was the habitually single one. Not by choice; I just never seemed to attract guys my age or spark a mutual attraction with the ones I developed feelings for. I was very firmly entrenched in the friend zone, and no matter what angle I approached things from, I couldn't seem to get out.

Any interest I did garner was usually from middle-aged, creepy men, who were definitely not my type. I wasn't a virgin. I'd had some extracurricular adventures and the odd drunken pash here and there, but, as far as random hookups or dating went, I was inexperienced. With only a few dates under my belt, that, for the most part, had gone badly.

As a saving grace, I was pretty excellent at making new friends, so I wasn't overly worried.

So, when the handsome guy with striking green eyes, a gorgeous smile and incredible mocha skin turned to me and asked if he could buy me a drink. I immediately looked over my shoulder to see who he was speaking to. When I turned, and there was no one behind me, he laughed and said, 'I'm talking to you, pretty eyes, what's your poison?'

After a sharp intake of breath that I hoped he missed. I felt a flush spread across my features and down my neck as my heart rate spiked. 'He's talking to me? He must be waaaay drunk or blind!' I thought. I was going to say 'no thanks. I'm just about to head home' because I was preparing to leave, and also, I was starkly aware that I was alone at a pub late at night. Though I'd been texting some friends who were out at another pub, and I knew they weren't planning to head home any time soon, so, I felt a little safer and decided to stay for one more drink. What harm could it do?

Nobody had ever bought me a drink, and I was hesitant to accept. But I threw caution to the wind this one time, pasted on my awkward, flushed smile and said, 'I would love a vodka pineapple, please'.

Mr sparkle eyes introduced himself as Xander and then his mate, Bryce, sitting at the next poker machine, who smiled and said, 'Hi, lovely to meet you!'.

The boys stood. 'After you', Xander said as he motioned to the bar, and together, we joined the queue.  A short time later, we received our drinks ~ a vodka pineapple for me and a Jimmy and coke for Xander and Bryce. The boys decided it was time to play a game or two of pool and asked if I'd join them. I agreed, and Xander proceeded to rack the balls up.

A couple of games later, with our successful winning streak taken in stride, we had firmly established ourselves as the pool table owners. I was having fun, more than I'd expected, and it felt easy mingling with the boys and the few random locals who were brave enough to challenge us.

Xander kept smiling at me, and I could feel the heat of his gaze piercing through me whenever I turned my back. It wasn't a bad feeling; it did surprise me, though. Nobody had ever really looked at me that way, and it felt nice. 

He called me over, gave me some gold coins, and told me to pick some music on the jukebox, anything I liked. With a shy smile, I walked over to the jukebox, and after scrolling through, I chose a couple of fun songs; Run DMC, Ghetto Superstar, and of course, I threw in the all-time favourite pub anthem ~ Living on a Prayer.

I returned to the table as 'It's like that' by Run DMC blasted through the speakers, and he gave me an appreciative smile and nod. We were standing together waiting for our next turn in the game as I felt him move in close behind me. Slowly, his hands slid around my waist, and I felt his lips gently press to the side of my cheek in a soft kiss. He rested his chin on my shoulder, snuggling in, warm, against me. I had to school myself not to stiffen and tried to calm my heartbeat. Mr sparkle-eyes was making his move. On me? I wasn't upset about it. I was, however, shocked and a little thrilled. It was a nice feeling, really nice... Nobody had ever held me like that before, casually or not, and I had a warmness rush through me, shooting down my body, right to the tips of my toes.

I had to concentrate extremely hard not to smile like an absolute idiot and keep my composure as I let myself relax back into him.

It was my turn next. I stepped away from Xander, and to my surprise, I was somewhat reluctant to leave him, abandoning that warm feeling inside as I stepped up to the pool table to take my shot.

It must have been something in the air that night because I was in top form. I was playing pool like I was born with a pool cue in my hand. With precision, I  sunk ball after ball, and I won't deny, it felt amazing to beat the guys. I could see the shock and, in turn, admiration on their faces as my confidence grew a little. I'd always been quite good at pool, but I wasn't consistent, so I was pretty stoked with myself for being on point that night!

After my fantastic success, I opted out of further games to retire as the reigning champion. It was time to quit while I was ahead, and I told the boys I'd happily sit and watch for the next few games.

To my surprise, Xander did the same. He excused himself and went to the bar returning with a full round of drinks, accompanied by that bright, twinkling smile. He positioned himself on a stool in a recessed nook next to our table, where he had an unobstructed view of Bryce and his game.

As I stood watching the game, I felt Xander's strong hands reach out to pull me against him. In seconds, my back was pressed to his warm, firm chest as I stood, encapsulated between his legs. His hands slid easily back around my waist as he held me gently, just like before. It was a nice feeling. It felt safe, warm and secure, and I found myself thinking that I could get used to this.

As the night went on, we talked easily, laughing and joking with the crowd while watching Bryce take win after win. He was quite the pool shark, and it was entertaining to watch him revel in his victories.

We settled into an easy banter, and when I felt warm lips on my collarbone, I felt my stomach do a flip. His lips were soft, gentle and felt like an electric charge as he moved them up my neck, placing small, gentle kisses until he reached my ear, engulfing my lobe in his mouth.

A shiver ran through my entire body. He must have felt it and laughed out, 'you like that babe?' I nodded my agreement because I did like it. Very much. Even if I was still in disbelief that this hilarious, attractive guy was showing me any attention at all. And he called me Babe? #Flush...

He took my hand as he turned me around to face him and pulled me gently toward him into a soft kiss. His eyes searched mine for approval, I nodded, and his kiss deepened, his tongue gently probing and teeth nipping at my bottom lip playfully. It was the kind of kiss you could lose yourself in and did I lose myself...

I melted into him, let the scent of his aftershave wrap around me, igniting my senses while taking in his warm, gentle appreciation. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

We continued our witty banter and occasional kissing while cheering Bryce on as he mastered one competitor after another.

When the barman finally announced 'last drinks!', Xander and Bryce informed me they had a ride coming and were going with some friends to a house party.

I decided that was my cue to leave. I'd had a lovely night, but my pillow fort and comfy bed were calling my name.

As we walked out onto the street, I said goodbye to Bryce, then turned to Xander to say goodbye.

As I turned, he took my hand and asked if I'd go to the party with him and his mates.

If I hadn't been alone, I might have considered going. As lovely as the boys had been, I was smart enough not to get in a car full of men I didn't know. Especially as the only female. An intoxicated female.

I mean, chances are it would be fine, but I wasn't one to take risks of that kind, so I thanked him for the invitation but declined. He looked unhappy and invited me again. After I refused for the second time, he pushed his frown away, smiled brightly and said, 'No worries babe, before you go, will you take a short walk with me? I want to say goodnight and get your number'.

As I nodded in agreement, Xander turned to Bryce. The two men exchanged words in hushed tones. As he turned back to face me, Bryce shot me a wink over his shoulder with a big smile as he pulled his phone out and started texting.

Their ride hadn't arrived yet, nor had any taxi's, so I agreed to take a short walk.

Xander took my hand in his and nodded towards a driveway two buildings down from the pub. He squeezed my hand and led me down the slight hill to the driveway and turned into it. I hesitated, and he turned slightly and gave me a reassuring smile over his shoulder, so I followed.

I had butterflies in my stomach, and I started to sober up. This wasn't the sort of thing I did, and I wondered if maybe he would want to see me again.

I walked a little nervously behind him as we walked towards the end of the driveway, set back from the street and dimly lit, to a dead-end in the form of an imposing roller shutter door.

It was here that things changed pace.

At first, Xander leant in and kissed me softly, just as I was starting to relax.
He took a slow step back and suddenly grasped my hips. In seconds, the whole world seemed to rush past me, and I felt my back slam, hard, into the cold metal of the roller shutter door, closely followed by the full force of Xander's body, crushing up against me.

Abruptly, he was ten feet tall and appeared to be the strongest man in the universe. He was everywhere! An all encapsulating massive wall of muscle.

Everywhere I looked, all I could see, all I could feel and smell. His body was an impenetrable solid barrier pinning me against the cold, hard metal.

I felt like I had nowhere to go, no chance of moving, and as I tried to push him away and make him stop, my hands were roughly yanked from my body and pinned, hard against the metal.

He leaned in, and the bile rose in my throat as I inhaled his pungent breath.

My mind raced as I felt his tongue, pointy and intrusive, pry my lips open and smash into me. He thrust his tongue furiously around my mouth, jabbing and shoving while grinding himself against me, impossibly hard. Like he was trying to gouge inside me. I could barely breathe.

It happened so fast, or it seemed to.
I didn't understand what was going on, my mind couldn't comprehend, and I couldn't maintain focus as my thoughts crumbled away, out of my reach. I couldn't work out why I couldn't move or why I couldn't breathe. It all felt so surreal.

I tried to push against him again, trying to free my hands and reclaim my mouth. My efforts proved futile as he slammed my hands and body hard against the metal, again, pinning me.
I felt the back of my head bounce against the cold metal as a sharp pain spread down my neck.

He stared straight at me, deep into my eyes with a gut-churning quirk to his lips that produced a predatory sneer, as he breathily snarled, 'don't fucking move, bitch...'

As the words growled out along his foul breath, a terrifying chill ran through me like a rogue wave, slamming into me.

It was then I truly realised that this was no joke. Possibly, my worst nightmare.

I felt a chilling cold and numbness as I raised my eyes to meet his gaze. His eyes were like black caverns staring back, impossibly dark, so different to the eyes that had sparkled at me not fifteen minutes earlier. From the safe surroundings, inside the pub.

A spike of fear rushed through me, a sudden wild panic and a strange sinking sensation. I felt an overwhelming numbness spreading through me, like my body no longer belonged to me and I was just a passenger looking through someone else's eyes.

An empty shell. I was inside an empty husk, and there was no escape.

The world abruptly silenced, and all I could hear was an all-encompassing boom ~ boom, boom ~ boom in my ears and a resounding ringing, which distanced me further.

My stomach dropped, and suddenly, so did I, as I was forced down hard onto my knees.

I felt the concrete bite through my jeans, cold and unforgiving, as it tore through the fabric and grated into my skin.

Time stood still, the world slowed down to a painstaking speed, as it all unfolded in slow motion, like a movie in freeze-frame ~ one microsecond at a time. 

First, he undid his belt buckle. It was polished silver. I remember it vividly; the details etched into my mind. The heavy silver was attached to a worn, brown leather belt. He was wearing jeans, and as the zipper drew down, I tried to turn my head away.

He dropped the strap and buckle then roughly gripped my face between both his hands, his fingers denting hard into my cheeks as he jerked my head back to centre, to face him... to meet his...

I tried again to pull away, to pull back. Still, there was nothing but cold, hard metal behind me. I felt fingers suddenly tangle through my hair roughly and a sharp pain as my head jerked forward. Suddenly I was choking. My mouth was full. I felt like I couldn't breathe, my gag reflex was taking hold, my eyes were wet, my face was wet, tears I didn't know I'd shed streamed down my face.

I don't know how it happened. I wanted to close my eyes, but they wouldn't shut. It was like a vice was holding them open, unable to blink, staring into nothingness, through a liquid blur, the cold metal of the belt buckle searing my forehead.

I couldn't see. I couldn't focus. I felt another sharp pain as my hair was tugged with extreme force, jerking my head back and forward again, like I was a ragdoll. It felt like my hair was being torn out of my scalp... Like I was choking.

I couldn't get enough air; my hands were still beside me; why were they still? Why wasn't I pushing and fighting? Why was I doing this? What am I doing? How did I get here? What is happening?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm in trouble. So much trouble...

What the fuck is happening to me? My mind was racing, but the world around me was still in slow motion.

I don't know how much time passed; I have no idea... It could have been seconds or minutes. I couldn't tell you. But suddenly, I felt and heard his release... I pulled back, and this time, he let me, letting go of my hair as I dropped to my side and collapsed down onto my hands as I spat, gagged and vomited. I wanted it out of me, all of it.

I drew in ragged breaths of air through the spluttering, snot and tears, trying to catch my breath, dragging myself back a single gasp at a time...

I heard a slapping sound moving away from me, and I looked up. As I lifted my head, I tried hard to focus my eyes, I was squinting, and I managed to see a figure disappear into the back seat of a car.

Xander... The door slammed hard as the vehicle took off, tyres screeching loudly, wheels spinning, creating an all-encompassing stench of burnt rubber and a thick, acrid cloud of smoke.

I don't know how long I stayed on my hands and knees, just staring into the street at the spot where the car had just left.

I continued spitting, spluttering and trying to get my breathing back to normal... As waves of sensations and nausea surged through my body,

Slowly, I started to regain some feeling. That's when I realised I was shaking and suddenly felt an impossibly cold chill run deep into my core as my teeth started chattering uncontrollably.

At some point, I slowly crawled to the low brick fence in front of me and dragged myself up to sit on it heavily. I could hear the clacking of my teeth as the ringing in my ears dimmed slightly, my vision started to clear a bit, and I felt a knot in my stomach like someone had twisted my intestines up into a physical tangle and was tugging at each end.

I was overcome with another wave of nausea and leant over the fence to empty my already, very empty stomach... It burned and seared as I retched, and a sudden overwhelming weakness came over me. I could hardly keep myself upright in a sitting position.

I couldn't stop staring blankly into the vast, glassy nothingness between my raking shivers... In a sudden moment of sheer clarity, I remembered I had gum in my handbag, and I started digging franticly through my bag for it.

When I found the packet, I ripped it open, and like some deranged, possessed person, I took a fistful of gum and shoved it into my mouth...

I chewed... and chewed... and chewed... until my jaw screamed, and I chewed some more... After I rid myself of the gum, I sat there shivering and staring. Not really seeing anything as my mind raced. Each thought slipped away into nothingness.

I don't remember exactly what I told my friends or whether I texted them or called. I do remember them arriving, coming to me in the street and wrapping one of those silver foil blankets around my shoulders...

I remember them smiling and joking around and trying to cheer me up. I don't remember exactly who was there, except for one good friend Kara, she was driving. I remember the warmth and the relief at seeing her and whoever else was there with her..

But also the mortified feeling, how embarrassed I was, how disgusting and dirty I felt. I don't remember what I told them... I'm sure it wasn't the whole truth, because I'm pretty sure this is the first time in my life I've let these words and feelings out in any kind of complete form.. What I remember as the truth of that night, my truth.

Even now I can feel my insides churning and a flush spreading across my face to the tips of my ears, I didn't notice until I got to this point in writing that there are tears running down my cheeks and my hands have a slight tremor to them.. That intense feeling of disgust in myself, the dirtiness, the need to cut my fingernails and scrub my hands and body and face until I cannot scrub any more.. to gargle with all the antiseptic and rid myself of the feeling of it... All of it.

The disjointed memories that flash at the most inopportune times, the dreams where you wake up and you don't know if it's real or not, the smells, the stench, the feeling of being trapped, the paralysing fear..

The absolutely overwhelming disgust I have for myself and the sheer and cutting embarrassment that I let myself get into a situation like that. That I was stupid enough to think he liked me? That I walked into a dark driveway at night with a man I didn't know? How could I have been so stupid to think that anyone could really want me?

Did it really happen or did I make this up in my head? If I made it up, why is it so real? Why can I feel it all but not at the same time... Why is it like looking through another person's eyes? Like watching it all through a husk, a shell...

Looking back, I have a feeling that I should have picked up on a vibe at the time... I was drunk, but not completely senseless.. How did I not see this? And how did he time the car just right? Were they watching and I just didn't see them? Not that I could see anything...

I always considered myself to be reasonably intelligent. Someone who wouldn't put herself in an unsafe situation and to this day I question myself on why I didn't fight or scream, say no or do something, anything...

Why didn't I fight?
I could have done something, anything and it would have been better than just... Letting it happen... I let this happen... How... How did I let this happen...

And then I have other thoughts like... What would have happened if I had gotten in the car with them.... Maybe I'm lucky I didn't. Maybe I should thank my lucky stars.

I don't know how I feel now, with this in writing. This dreamlike reality that I've questioned so many times. I know it happened but I think maybe I want it to be a dream.. Theres so much haze..

I suppose writing it all out is something akin to a purge of sorts... I've taken it all and dragged it out of myself to put into words that don't have to live inside me anymore...

I feel torn between some form of relief in it being out of me... But also, a strong re-enforcement of all the feelings that come along with these memories.

It feels more like a dream, I have that vague feeling of numbness washing over me again... Even now, all these years later.

It's funny, people have bad experiences every day. I know this has lingered with me, I know it reflects through my eyes and I have a fear I never used to have. I've tried to shake it away. And it works sometimes but it always manages to seep back up like a goo through the cracks in my mind.

I think maybe that i've been scared of men for a long time now, I don't think I've admitted it but some men terrify me.

I've thought for a while that there's something wrong with me.

I never really attributed it to this experience... There have been other experiences but now that I read over the words I've written, I think I can see why I have fear... Maybe.

Something else I find really strange is that I remember everything that happened beforehand, well, I think I do.. And I had the ability to write it down in a positive light, so vividly, I can picture myself smiling and relaxed and having fun.

I almost can't link the before and after experiences together as the same person, as me, as him..

Even though it was me there.. before, during and after. It feels like a story written by someone else. I wonder if that's normal? I've never looked up situations like this before or read stories about this type of thing. I know there are way worse things that could have happened and I'm extremely lucky I wasn't badly hurt. I also can't help thinking of so many things I could have done differently and I ask myself why I was so stupid... Why I didn't just leave when the others left.

I thought if I could write this experience down that maybe I could help others, or even help myself... But I don't know now how to turn this into a lesson or share this experience in a way that could help someone else... Maybe I should just keep it to myself.

Looking back, this one is one in a chain of events for me. A distinct timeline of significant events embedded in my memory. Probably one of the worst now that I have taken the opportunity to try and view it objectively.

I've had some terrible luck in the 'love' department. I wonder if I have a big sign on my forehead advertising myself as a fucking idiot! It feels like it sometimes.

The intelligent brain in my head tries to reassure me that it's not my fault and I didn't deserve to have that experience, no one does. But just like in those good vs evil pictures you see with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, the darkness in me tells me I'm a complete fucking idiot and I got what I deserved for being so stupid...

Way harsh brain...

Sometimes there's this raging war inside me, a battle that is fought deep beneath the surface that I know is down there somewhere.. It distracts me at times and I'm scared because if I address it, I don't know if I will be able to cope.

I suppose ,though; this is a positive step. Maybe.

There are so many more words yet to come. I guess time will tell if it helps.

~ Olly

Original story posted on Wattpad.