Thread: Scaremonger (Mr Quixotic & Lait)

Two hours came and went, stuck in the same nightmare only he was added to it. Her eyes fluttered open to the same hospital room, the same hospital bed, and the same restless, monotone beeping. So it wasn't a dream... If it wasn't for the small migraine that'd grown to annoy her at the center of her forehead she would have been still fast asleep. The same nurse from earlier, come to find out her name was Dawn, had came in with a small tray of apple juice, crackers and pain killers. Right on time. The police are almost here. They're going to ask you what happened those few nights ago okay? It took just a few rubs to her eyes softly, feeling the sore pain in her arms as she lifted, for the blurry vision to disappear. Do you have a mirror...? I haven't seen how bad it looks... Dawn, as kind as she was nodded asking her to wait a minute. In the mean time Zai took it upon herself to feel just how fucked up she looked. Her gentle hands removed the long tear streaks from her face, fingers pressing into the areas that hurt the most. Sticking out her tongue out, she first pressed it to her upper lip, feeling the scabs and rows of stitches that lined her upper lip. She wasn't expecting to look like a beauty pageant girl but at least her lips didn't feel so duck like anymore. At least she was healing. It wasn't that she was vain- okay maybe she was a little vain, but Azairah just genuinely cared for her appearance for her own sake. But of course there were people who'd mistaken that for her being self centered. Fair enough. Azairah had a meeting with the police. The very last thing she wanted was pity while looking a wrecked sob story. Dawn returned with a compact mirror. At first she was a little hesitant, even taking a moment to look at the nurse. It was a lot worse when you came here... Blood everywhere. It was hard to see if you even had a face. Everything was swollen and cut. Sounds more to the story than what the emergency call said... If only she knew what had really happened. Zai's delicate fingers pulled it apart separating the make-up powder from the mirror. Her hands had actually trembled, but with what courage, Azairah lifted it just enough to see her face. The places that had once held, porcelain, caramel skin were bruises dark, black and blue. Her lips, parted were cut, held together with stitches galore. Her nose, clearly broken then fixed. The sound of his punches landing against her face found her ears again, almost making her nauseous. Remembering the exact sound of what it was like to have multiple bones being broken at once, the loud crunching and cracking as he pulverized her face, the hot, pulsing, burning of his nails digging into her back, ripping- forcing the skin to tear apart. Azairah dropped her head. Had she said anything more, anything 'unnecessary' to Cole, Zai would have most likely been dead. Inhale through the nose, let the brain accept it, exhale through the mouth. Her brown eyes closed, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief that someone had the physical strength and clear conscious to beat someone to such a state. Her arms rested down at her sides, hand opening to return the compact to the nurse. And how long was I out for when I got here..? About four days. A sigh left her lips. There was nothing more she could do than explain her situation to the police. Nothing more, nothing less and just hope they would take care of it. Is there anyway to get a hairbrush a tooth brush and tooth paste? Easy and done. With a clean mouth, and managed hair that was pulled up into a messy bun with the help of Dawn she was somewhat ready to see them. Cole even had the fucking nerve to rip her hair out. You'll be okay. The police will handle things for you... That's their job right? Not trying to be rude, the girl rolled her eyes. Like they gave two shits about anyone as it was. There suddenly came a knock at the door, Good luck, honey, Dawn encouraged softly before taking her leave. Two policemen entered the room in returned. No hello, no nothing. Aren't they supposed to send a female officer? Though she knew they obviously didn't give a damn. Straight to the point. Azairah inhaled deeply, grateful the white blanket was still with her. There was some sort of comfort she found from it, as if she was shielding herself from any sort of judgement they were going to give her. Though that was probably called for. Rape was rape. Lies were lies. Humans were animals. I was raped. Her voice cracked. Raped and as you can already see beaten. You don't get a face like this just from- she held up her weak arms to form quotations with her fingers. -Falling down some stairs and getting a little drunk. First off I don't drink. I'm not an alcoholic, nor do I enjoy the taste of alcohol. Explaining herself wasn't going to be as easy as she thought, especially with Officer Edwards' not amused face. There was still a part of her that was excruciatingly tired, and still in pain no matter how many pain killers they gave her. If you want it from the start here it is. Make sure you write it down because the asshole who decided it would be okay to beat the shit out of me after I said no loud and clear plenty of times needs to have his ass in jail if not pleasantly executed. Be sure to send me an invitation when that day comes. Her eyes pierced fearlessly into hard, stern, not in the least bit wavered Officer Edwards. I was invited, she began, remembered everything word for word, action for action. To this party and old college friend was having. Celebrating nothing in particular. A party to just party. The only reason I went was because it would be rude not to show up. So whatever. Zai shrugged lightly. I went. Had a Sprite . A Sprite, stayed in the corner and minded my own business. That calls for rape, Officer? A six foot god know how tall, 200 something pounds of pure muscle, landing full strength punches TO. MY. FACE. because I said no to his offer for sex? Seething in anger at the very though of it. Her head boiled, thinking of a million perfect things to say. Expressing all the anger she couldn't that night. Take it out on an officer who probably just wanted to go home and have a couple beers. I don't know what kind of fucked up world we're living in where it makes you men assume a woman is into you just because you compliment her and she happens to acknowledge you and say thanks. Exhaling hard, she pinched lightly at the bridge of her bruised nose. I attended this party, this guy comes up to me, him and his three other friends, basically asks me to come with him. I say no, obviously not interested, calls me a bitch several times, which is whatever, which was true. Azairah couldn't care less that he called her names. Being used to it was fine. It was daily basis that she'd heard it. I go upstairs trying to make it to the bathroom, he comes out the opposite way. Grabs me, throws me into this room and proceeds to punch me. Azairah paused a minute, no matter how hard she wanted to forget, no matter how hard she wished it hadn't happened. The anger was filling her again and she tapped her broken nail against the railing of the hospital bed. The first guy blocks the door and the two other friends were sitting against the bed. Natural thing to do when something like that happens is to scream, get someone's attention. Had someone heard her, the whole situation could have probably been avoided. But of course no one could hear my screaming at the top of my lungs because of the music flaring downstairs. Why couldn't it have happened between someone else? Why did it have to happen to her. Why did her biggest fear have to come true. In the end she wasn't expecting their sympathy but watching Officer Edwards jot down notes in the little, black, leather notebook and occasionally nod his head was irritating her, aggravating her. He wanted them to say something... She just wanted someone to say sorry to her. Sorry for what happened even if she didn't want their pity. Her hands balled into weak fists, eyes averting away from the two policemen. Shaken with anger at just remembering his disgusting, unmerciful face. Cole, she said through gritted teeth. Zai already embarrassed herself once in front of the nurses and she wouldn't do it again. No matter how angry she was Azairah kept her composure. Cole Douglas is the reason I'm sitting here on this hospital bed talking to you. Cole Douglas is the reason why my face looks like this. Cole Douglas is the genius who thought he could play it off by tossing me at the bottom of the steps and making it seem like I was some drunk whore looking for a good time. Azairah paused a minute, reflecting back on his words, remembering, never ending. A smile teased the corner her mouth. Not one bit of her was happy. It was just better than crying... Four against one. Who where they going to believe? Azairah. She'd fight and she'd fight until she could't fight no more.