I was waiting at the bus stop outside the library when he came up to me. I can't go back there now. He followed me onto a bus. I am forced to sit in silent pain everyday now, unable to express myself.
When I'm lying awake at 2am, I am thinking of what happened that night. When the curtains flap in the wind, I pray he isn't out there, that he hasn't found me. If I manage to fall asleep, it isn't for long and I awake with my mind full of images too clear. For a moment, I can convince myself it was just a horrible nightmare but reality always comes crashing down on me.
I found my way home that night, barefoot and in the dark. I ran upstairs, before my mum could question me, and into my bedroom, locking the door. I turned the television on, loud enough that no one could hear my crying.
I sat on the cold floor of my room rocking back and forward until my alarm went off the next morning. The thoughts didn't leave me alone for as much as a second that day.
He had sat on the seat behind me on the bus until it reached my stop. He stood up, pushing me back into my seat and sitting down beside me. By this point, we were the only two on the bus. He covered my mouth so I couldn't get the attention of the driver, forcing my head down and against the back of the seat. He began to rummage through his bag then pulled out a pocket knife.
I let out a gasp and he made a small slash on my thigh. It was just larger than a paper cut but I could see blood beginning to soak through my white tights. The combination of this and my erratic breathing was making me feel faint.
At this point, when he indicated for me to get off the bus I wasn't about to object. Holding the knife at his side, he led me down a long driveway to a discrete, rundown house.
It was the next hour of my life in which gave rise to nightmares.
I couldn't find a way out of that house. I was afraid to make a sound, not that anyone would hear. I was afraid to attempt escape, in case he caught me.
I found an opportunity as he led me into a room with a television. The remote was sitting on top of a small set of drawers by the door, and the television was across the room. He was still carrying the knife. He walked into the room and I grabbed the remote. I switched the television on and pushed the remote behind drawers so he couldn't get it. Angry, he marched across the room to turn it off. In this moment, I sprinted.
I managed to get my way out of the house, with him right on my tail. As we ran up the driveway he began to gain on me. When I reached the top, I realised I didn't know which direction we had come from. I turned right and ran as fast as I could. I had left my shoes behind and it must have been cold, but I didn't notice.
I heard cars and headed in that direction. When we reached the traffic, he would have been less than three metres behind me. I didn't stop. I ran out in front of cars, just managing to dodge each one, and reached the other side of the road.
I glanced over my shoulder to see him heading back. I let out a huge sigh of relief and began to run again. I ran until I felt safe and found somewhere I recognised. I found my way home that night, barefoot and in the dark.
Even in the distant future, I can't see a time where the memories of that night will cease to haunt me.
When I'm lying awake at 2am, I am thinking of what happened that night. When the curtains flap in the wind, I pray he isn't out there, that he hasn't found me. If I manage to fall asleep, it isn't for long and I awake with my mind full of images too clear. For a moment, I can convince myself it was just a horrible nightmare but reality always comes crashing down on me.
I found my way home that night, barefoot and in the dark. I ran upstairs, before my mum could question me, and into my bedroom, locking the door. I turned the television on, loud enough that no one could hear my crying.
I sat on the cold floor of my room rocking back and forward until my alarm went off the next morning. The thoughts didn't leave me alone for as much as a second that day.
He had sat on the seat behind me on the bus until it reached my stop. He stood up, pushing me back into my seat and sitting down beside me. By this point, we were the only two on the bus. He covered my mouth so I couldn't get the attention of the driver, forcing my head down and against the back of the seat. He began to rummage through his bag then pulled out a pocket knife.
I let out a gasp and he made a small slash on my thigh. It was just larger than a paper cut but I could see blood beginning to soak through my white tights. The combination of this and my erratic breathing was making me feel faint.
At this point, when he indicated for me to get off the bus I wasn't about to object. Holding the knife at his side, he led me down a long driveway to a discrete, rundown house.
It was the next hour of my life in which gave rise to nightmares.
I couldn't find a way out of that house. I was afraid to make a sound, not that anyone would hear. I was afraid to attempt escape, in case he caught me.
I found an opportunity as he led me into a room with a television. The remote was sitting on top of a small set of drawers by the door, and the television was across the room. He was still carrying the knife. He walked into the room and I grabbed the remote. I switched the television on and pushed the remote behind drawers so he couldn't get it. Angry, he marched across the room to turn it off. In this moment, I sprinted.
I managed to get my way out of the house, with him right on my tail. As we ran up the driveway he began to gain on me. When I reached the top, I realised I didn't know which direction we had come from. I turned right and ran as fast as I could. I had left my shoes behind and it must have been cold, but I didn't notice.
I heard cars and headed in that direction. When we reached the traffic, he would have been less than three metres behind me. I didn't stop. I ran out in front of cars, just managing to dodge each one, and reached the other side of the road.
I glanced over my shoulder to see him heading back. I let out a huge sigh of relief and began to run again. I ran until I felt safe and found somewhere I recognised. I found my way home that night, barefoot and in the dark.
Even in the distant future, I can't see a time where the memories of that night will cease to haunt me.