Fan Fiction ❯ I'll Show You ❯ Chapter 1
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Lina Inverse 
A strange phone call begins a girl's worst experience ever. Rated for language and rape.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Psychological / Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.26.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 346 | Status: Completed
A strange phone call begins a girl's worst experience ever. Rated for language and rape.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Psychological / Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.26.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 346 | Status: Completed
"I'll show you you're not a lesbian!"
I can tell by the voice that it's him. I didn't know he was cunning enough to call me from my friend's house to get past Caller I.D. Or that he had the guts to actually speak with me.
Sure, he had harassed me online, pressuring me to kill myself. But I'd always assumed that he was just some cowardly little asshole who didn't dare risk getting caught. Or that the idiot who didn't even bother to adopt a different typing style or even stop using his catch phrases when pretending to be someone else would be smart enough to trick me into picking up the phone when he called.
And what the fuck does he mean, "I'll show you you're not a lesbian?" I'm not even a lesbian... (I'm actually bisexual, but if I can get out of harassment by saying I'm not a lesbian, I might as well do it.) Not that he knows that. I say two things that'd hint to him that I might be homosexual, then without further consideration, he's convinced.
The next thing I know, I've slammed the phone to the receiver.
The doorbell rings. And again, and again, and again. Only my family members would ring our doorbell four times in one second. Good. I can tell them about the phone call.
No.
I don't believe it.
Him. There he is, closing a black cell phone.
Only my family members would ring our doorbell four times in one second.
It's not him.
I'm seeing things.
I blink, and he's still there, grabbing my right shoulder.
"What the fuck---" I start, but he slams his free hand over my mouth.
"Fucking lesbian."
Then I realize my entire body is trembling violently. This is real. He's here.
He tears my jeans off. Then his own. I look away, but he twists my head towards his sickening lower regions.
I've got to call the police.
I try to make a run for it, but he slams me down on the ground. If only I weren't so much weaker than him.
"Get the FUCK off of me!"
"No." How in Hell can he be so fucking calm while sexually assaulting me?
This time I successfully push him off, and dash for the phone. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as I pound "911" into the phone. I don't even care that he's caught up to me and got me down before I can say a word to the operator.
He slams inside of me.
I don't care. The police are coming.
He pounds into me over and over.
They'll be here any minute.
He rips open my shirt with his teeth- his hands are busy, one holding my shoulders down, the other covering my mouth- and starts tickling my nipples with his tongue. Unbearable.
I'm glad he won't let me scream. This way I'll be able to hear the sirens when they come.
"You like this, don't you? I told you you weren't a lesbian!"
I hate what you're doing to me, but I like what's happening. Because they're on their way...
He comes. Disgusting. The police don't.
Finally, he withdraws from inside me. It's all over.
I lie on my back, panting. It's over. It's finally over.
He smiles at me. Makes me want to spit. "See? You were with a guy! You are SO straght!"
What is he, stupid? You don't start liking guys just because one raped you. And even if I did, wouldn't that make me bisexual? It's like he doesn't even realize we exist...
"Well, see ya." He sounds so fucking casual as he takes off.
I lie down on the floor, exhausted. Did this day really happen? No... It was just a nightmare...
Oh, stop kidding yourself, you little coward. Your thighs hurt way too much for it to be just a nightmare. It's all real. It's all fucking real. It's all so fucking real.
I replay the entire scene through my head. The bastard calls me up. "I'll show you you're not a lesbian!" That SO was a rape threat... How could I not foresee it? Why didn't I call the police THEN? Then I wouldn't be lying here on the floor right now... Alone... My virginity stolen... And then I opened the fucking door without even so much as looking out the window to see who it was. After getting that phone call, I should've been scared shitless already, expecting him to be right behind my back, knife in hand.
I'm so worn out... I can't do anything but lie here, motionless. Shit, my legs hurt... How the hell could anyone get pleasure out of that?
What seems like hours later, an unfamiliar voice says, "It looks like a rape."
Groggily, I open my eyes. Blue clothing, a male face...
"Get away from me."
"It's the police. We're here to help you."
Another body clad in blue approaches me. This one, a woman. I look toward her. "Get him away from me."
She nods at the man, who leaves.
"What happened? Were you raped? Your legs are covered in blood and semen..." the woman asks me.
Ugh. What do you think? "Uh huh..." I mutter, barely audible.
"Are you hurt? Do you need to be taken to the hospital?"
"Yeah. No. I mean, I'm hurting, but it's not life-threatening or anything."
She examines my legs. "Have you had sexual intercourse in the past?"
I shake my head.
"No wonder you're bleeding." She pauses. "Honey, let me dress you, then we can talk about what happened and how we're going to help you recover from this trauma."
"Thank you."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Five years later:
After I explained the situation to the police, they filed a case against him. Upon finding out that they had collected a sample of his semen for DNA testing, he pleaded guilty, and is currently serving out prison time.
Immediately after the event, I was so afraid of men that I ran away from them. Not until I heard that he went to prison did I begin to work with my therapist on that problem. I still get nervous every time my boyfriend does so much as hug me, but we've been patient with each other over the years.
~fin~
Author's Note: This is NOT a true story. Quite thankfully, I have never been raped... I only fear it. The characters are based on myself and a boy who harassed me, but are not entirely accurate. For starters, I don't think I'm sensible enough to even think of calling the police... I'm actually a lesbian, but I wrote this when I thought I was bisexual and I decided to leave it that way to make a statement about bisexuality. Oh.... and.... please do not get off on this. That would be scary.
I can tell by the voice that it's him. I didn't know he was cunning enough to call me from my friend's house to get past Caller I.D. Or that he had the guts to actually speak with me.
Sure, he had harassed me online, pressuring me to kill myself. But I'd always assumed that he was just some cowardly little asshole who didn't dare risk getting caught. Or that the idiot who didn't even bother to adopt a different typing style or even stop using his catch phrases when pretending to be someone else would be smart enough to trick me into picking up the phone when he called.
And what the fuck does he mean, "I'll show you you're not a lesbian?" I'm not even a lesbian... (I'm actually bisexual, but if I can get out of harassment by saying I'm not a lesbian, I might as well do it.) Not that he knows that. I say two things that'd hint to him that I might be homosexual, then without further consideration, he's convinced.
The next thing I know, I've slammed the phone to the receiver.
The doorbell rings. And again, and again, and again. Only my family members would ring our doorbell four times in one second. Good. I can tell them about the phone call.
No.
I don't believe it.
Him. There he is, closing a black cell phone.
Only my family members would ring our doorbell four times in one second.
It's not him.
I'm seeing things.
I blink, and he's still there, grabbing my right shoulder.
"What the fuck---" I start, but he slams his free hand over my mouth.
"Fucking lesbian."
Then I realize my entire body is trembling violently. This is real. He's here.
He tears my jeans off. Then his own. I look away, but he twists my head towards his sickening lower regions.
I've got to call the police.
I try to make a run for it, but he slams me down on the ground. If only I weren't so much weaker than him.
"Get the FUCK off of me!"
"No." How in Hell can he be so fucking calm while sexually assaulting me?
This time I successfully push him off, and dash for the phone. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as I pound "911" into the phone. I don't even care that he's caught up to me and got me down before I can say a word to the operator.
He slams inside of me.
I don't care. The police are coming.
He pounds into me over and over.
They'll be here any minute.
He rips open my shirt with his teeth- his hands are busy, one holding my shoulders down, the other covering my mouth- and starts tickling my nipples with his tongue. Unbearable.
I'm glad he won't let me scream. This way I'll be able to hear the sirens when they come.
"You like this, don't you? I told you you weren't a lesbian!"
I hate what you're doing to me, but I like what's happening. Because they're on their way...
He comes. Disgusting. The police don't.
Finally, he withdraws from inside me. It's all over.
I lie on my back, panting. It's over. It's finally over.
He smiles at me. Makes me want to spit. "See? You were with a guy! You are SO straght!"
What is he, stupid? You don't start liking guys just because one raped you. And even if I did, wouldn't that make me bisexual? It's like he doesn't even realize we exist...
"Well, see ya." He sounds so fucking casual as he takes off.
I lie down on the floor, exhausted. Did this day really happen? No... It was just a nightmare...
Oh, stop kidding yourself, you little coward. Your thighs hurt way too much for it to be just a nightmare. It's all real. It's all fucking real. It's all so fucking real.
I replay the entire scene through my head. The bastard calls me up. "I'll show you you're not a lesbian!" That SO was a rape threat... How could I not foresee it? Why didn't I call the police THEN? Then I wouldn't be lying here on the floor right now... Alone... My virginity stolen... And then I opened the fucking door without even so much as looking out the window to see who it was. After getting that phone call, I should've been scared shitless already, expecting him to be right behind my back, knife in hand.
I'm so worn out... I can't do anything but lie here, motionless. Shit, my legs hurt... How the hell could anyone get pleasure out of that?
What seems like hours later, an unfamiliar voice says, "It looks like a rape."
Groggily, I open my eyes. Blue clothing, a male face...
"Get away from me."
"It's the police. We're here to help you."
Another body clad in blue approaches me. This one, a woman. I look toward her. "Get him away from me."
She nods at the man, who leaves.
"What happened? Were you raped? Your legs are covered in blood and semen..." the woman asks me.
Ugh. What do you think? "Uh huh..." I mutter, barely audible.
"Are you hurt? Do you need to be taken to the hospital?"
"Yeah. No. I mean, I'm hurting, but it's not life-threatening or anything."
She examines my legs. "Have you had sexual intercourse in the past?"
I shake my head.
"No wonder you're bleeding." She pauses. "Honey, let me dress you, then we can talk about what happened and how we're going to help you recover from this trauma."
"Thank you."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Five years later:
After I explained the situation to the police, they filed a case against him. Upon finding out that they had collected a sample of his semen for DNA testing, he pleaded guilty, and is currently serving out prison time.
Immediately after the event, I was so afraid of men that I ran away from them. Not until I heard that he went to prison did I begin to work with my therapist on that problem. I still get nervous every time my boyfriend does so much as hug me, but we've been patient with each other over the years.
~fin~
Author's Note: This is NOT a true story. Quite thankfully, I have never been raped... I only fear it. The characters are based on myself and a boy who harassed me, but are not entirely accurate. For starters, I don't think I'm sensible enough to even think of calling the police... I'm actually a lesbian, but I wrote this when I thought I was bisexual and I decided to leave it that way to make a statement about bisexuality. Oh.... and.... please do not get off on this. That would be scary.