Editor's Note: this story contains elements of force/sexual violence.
**NOTE: this is part of a book I'm writing, which is generally revenge-oriented and only peppered with erotica. I decided to delete the following blow job scene, seeing as it was a bit too gratuitous, but figured I could put it to good use here.**
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Dusk fell like a guillotine, and still no signs of life. I wondered if Jeremy hadn't secretly slaughtered his family, and was feasting on their roasted remains right now while I sat in my car. I was beginning to nod off, when a bright light flashed directly in my face. Obnoxious halogen lights like glaring eyes, staring at me from a hulking navy SUV, the very same one that had taken residence in the Angelis driveway for so many hours. I slouched in my seat, not wanting to catch their attention, looking like some creeper. Two grim-faced adults, whom I assumed to be Steven and Maria Angelis, sat in the front seats.
Once they had pulled off onto a side road, I crept out of my car and tiptoed through the front lawn. Is Jeremy home? Is he already in juvy, or what? My rhetorical worrywart question was answered in seconds, as the screen door banged closed and Jeremy Angelis stared at me, dressed in an olive Class of 09 sweatshirt and camouflage cargo pants. The day's newspaper, swathed in a yellow plastic bag, dangled from his fingertips.
I don't know what came over me.
I hurled my body at Jeremy like one possessed, letting out a strange roar at the same time. He was much taller than me, and was built like a chess rook, thick and bricklike. He just barely jolted backwards when I rammed my full weight into his frame.
"I'll kill you!" I yelped, clawing at his face. A dog started barking. A wild glance presented me with the excited family golden retriever, who ruffed and pawed at the door.
"Aah! What the fuck!" Jeremy shouted. "Who—OW! --are you? What are you doing in my yard?"
I started pounding my fists into his chest. I was feeling light-headed. "I am vengeance! I am justice!"
And then, with one cuff of his mammoth hand, my head suddenly felt like it was a carefree kite, detaching from my neck with a painful crack. I fell face-first onto the freshly manicured lawn, coughing up grass and soil. I grabbed a clump of grass and flung it at Jeremy.
"FUCK YOU!" I shouted incoherently.
I struggled to my feet and managed to balance a fighting stance before flailing toward Jeremy Angelis once more. He swiped at my arm and yanked me to the ground, giving me another mouthful of turf, then delivering a sharp kick to the back of my head. My vision went blank. I hardly registered the pain. There it is, I half-thought a second later, when the flash of agony bit into me. Jeremy stood over me, his mouth agape, his lower lip drooping.
"Who are you?" he said.
Gravity had never felt so potent, nor sleep so imminent. The earth was beckoning me to stay a while, cradling me as vertiginous forms—house, mailbox, Jeremy Angelis—swirled overhead. In a superhuman act of desperate strength-squandering, I pulled my torso upward and clung to Jeremy's leg, and sunk my teeth into his meaty calf. My mouth was full of his wiry leg hair. Jeremy let out a shriek. His blood flooded my mouth, hot and foul, tasting of old pennies. Then I was on my feet again; Jeremy had effortlessly pulled me up and was now staring into my face, frenzied and bewildered.
"I have no fucking idea who you are," he said, seemingly to himself.
I managed to land a sucker punch to his jaw, and then he was on top of me. We rolled in the grass, and his fists were battering rams and my chest felt like a paper Japanese sliding door; was he ripping me open? Pain, everywhere. A punch connected to my temple and I saw darkness. I didn't know where it was all coming from- other than Jeremy, of course, who was like some sort of demon boxer.
"Stop it, stop," I moaned, and Jeremy stopped. He panted, sitting on his knees on top of my groin area. If I weren't in such pain, and I didn't hate this boy so very much with every fiber of my being, it would have been an incredible turn on.
"I don't understand," he muttered. "Why does this shit keep happening to me?"
I rolled out from under him and started staggering to my car. He stared at me, dumbfounded, still sitting in the grass. Then I turned around, and kicked him in the arm with all of my considerable might.
Jeremy howled. I galloped to my car, limping and bleeding profusely, and Jeremy was following me at a cautious pace.
"I will run you over with my car, you FUCKER!" I screamed at him, struggling to open the door—my hands were vibrating, I was full of movement and hurting and everything was dizzy—
My hand managed to capture the elusive door handle, and then I was inside my car, shuddering. I locked the door. The keys were still in the ignition, and the car let out a banshee screech as I raced down Brookbend Avenue, away from that monster.
My car had a mind of its own—dancing on the wrong side of the road, which twisted like a grey ribbon. Seasickness overcame me, and the contents of my stomach rose and poured from my mouth into my lap, as I struggled to roll down my window. It suddenly dawned on me that I was in someone's front yard, careening toward a pine tree.
I let out a yell. Where are the brakes? I wondered, and seeing as they were playing hide and seek with my feet, I attempted to steer back into the road, where I hit a stop sign and turned the car off.
I leaned my head back and emitted a sour death rattle of a sigh. The pungency of my vomit overpowered all other senses. My hands shook, fumbling for my phone. I called Nikki. I was so tired. Voicemail. I hung up. No one to call. Not Mona, anyone but Mona. No sense in complicating things. Walt. I didn't really think about it, just pressed the green button, and then some ringing, and a tunnel voice: "Hello?"
"Help me," I tried to say, but my tongue had a mind of its own and it came out "Ffluer blugh."
"What is it? Where are you?"
I struggled to find the green street signs, staked into the ground like informative heads-on-sticks. Waverly and Brookbend. I hadn't gotten as far as I had thought.
"Waverly and Brookbend," I said, and hung up, dry heaving until some clear liquid dribbled out of my mouth and onto my shirt, not bothering to move. I felt a little better. Then I fell asleep.
I woke up because Walt had opened my door and suddenly I was falling out of my car. He caught me, and my scent, and wrinkled his nose.
"What is all over you?" he asked.
