The Good Neighbor - Bettes Kimberley A. - Страница 47

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My head ached and I felt blood pouring out of the gash above my right ear. I was dizzy, but I couldn’t let myself lose consciousness. I couldn’t let them get me again.

I kept telling myself that people had lived through far worse than this, so I would too, but every step jarred my entire body and reminded me of how bad this experience really was.

I knew my jaw was broken. There was a large lump in the middle of my forearm, which I presumed was another broken bone. My ankle was sprained. My ribs were aching. My swollen face was covered with scrapes and scratches, not all of which I received from the limbs and branches that I ran into blindly.

I was aware of the aches, but I was so worried about getting away that my mind numbed the pain, or at least pushed it down into my subconscious so I could go on. It was a good thing it did. I knew that if my mind let the pain in, I’d probably stop right where I was, sit down and cry, and they would get me again.

I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let it happen.

I was nearly naked now, as my blouse was ripped to shreds, and they had taken my pants and panties. I was even missing a shoe. My hair was in knots, some of it having been torn out in handfuls. My scalp was burning. I smelled a sweet, unfamiliar smell coming from my lower body. My stomach turned. My whole body ached.

I was filthy and smelled horrible, and I couldn’t help but cry as I stumbled on into the darkness. The salty tears ran down into some of the cuts on my face and made them sting worse than they already did. Still, I barely noticed. That pain was nothing compared to the constant burning and stinging that emanated from between my legs. It felt like those monsters were still ripping apart my tender flesh.

Of all the times in my life that I wished I wasn’t fat and was in better shape, this one counted the most. I needed to be able to run quickly, but the extra weight I carried held me back, slowing me down. I hated myself so much for being fat at that moment that I almost stopped running. I wanted to let them come find me and start all over again with their torture and torment. It would almost be better anyway. Wouldn’t I rather die now than live the rest of my life knowing what they had done to me, and with knowing that it was all because I was fat? If they found me, the torment would continue, but I also knew that I would not escape twice. They would kill me, and death wasn’t looking like such a bad thing at this point. At least the pain and misery would end.

While I was thinking of dying to end my suffering, my steps slowed to no more than a jog. For another minute, I thought of whether to pick up my pace or stop altogether. I thought about what my father would do and say once he found out what happened. I couldn’t keep this a secret. I shuddered to think of how I must look. My father would blame me, and he’d look at me for the rest of my life with disdain and disgust. He’d looked at me with little more than that my whole life. I’d always felt that he was ashamed of me and this would surely only add to that. My mother was what made me run. No matter what my father said or did, my mother would be crushed if she lost me. My mother never acted ashamed of me. She was never afraid to let me know that she loved me, and I’d always appreciated that. My father never showed any love or affection for me, but my mother had made up for it as best as she could. I couldn’t let her down. So I ran harder than before.

My legs were weak, and getting weaker by the second. I needed to stop and catch my breath, but I couldn’t risk it. I had to get help. If they caught me, it would be over.

I don’t know how long I ran, but it felt like days. My feet were sore and blistering, especially the one missing a shoe. I couldn’t hear them cheering and calling out my name anymore, but faintly, somewhere up ahead in the distance, I could hear a vehicle pass occasionally. I knew I was near a highway and if I wanted to live, I had to get to it.

Every time I thought I should be at the highway, I’d hear a vehicle and realize I’d been running in the wrong direction. I’d turn and run in the direction where I’d heard the last vehicle, only to hear the next one off to the right or left. I was going in circles and I knew it. I fought to keep from panicking.

I was sure I was running in the right direction until I came to the top of a small hill. What I saw at the bottom of the hill stopped me. My knees quivered and nearly buckled beneath me. My heart stopped pounding. In fact, it seemed to stop beating altogether. The forest grew silent, though only in my mind. There were no sounds, not even my labored breathing. Then, I realized I wasn’t breathing. I blinked quickly, trying to clear my vision in the eye with which I could still see. I wanted to make sure that what I thought I was seeing was what I was really seeing, and it was. It was the three of them.

They’d heard me run up the other side of the hill. They looked at me and time seemed to stop. The three of them in unison stood and stared at me. Suddenly, my heart and the world started again, only both were going too fast. I screamed.

Panic took hold of my body. I ran harder than before; faster than I had ever ran in my life. I was scared. I expected my heart to pound the flesh open on my chest and beat its way out. It was hard to take a breath and it hurt like hell when I let it out, but I was running to save my life. I could recover later, but I had to move now.

I heard them coming up the hill after me! I tripped and fell several times, but I was up as soon as I hit the ground.

“Annie! Annie!” They called repeatedly. They were still taunting me, still laughing at me, and still cursing me. If they caught me, they’d kill me for sure. There were many times in my life that I’d wished I were dead and there would surely be many more, but right now, I was certain that I did not want to die. Especially not this way. It would mean that they won, and worse than that, no one would miss me other than my mother.

The next thing I knew, bright lights shone directly into my eyes. I heard tires squealing on the asphalt. I was relieved. They couldn’t get me now.

I stopped running.

A man jumped out of his truck and ran around to the front where I stood paralyzed by shock.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding nearly as scared as I was.

I felt him take my elbow in his hand. I tried to tell him what had happened to me in the woods, and that I needed to get to the hospital. I needed to tell him that I had to get away from them – and that they were coming – but I couldn’t find my voice.

Then, everything went black.

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