If I could just go back and change things ...  maybe I wouldn't keep on having these damned nightmares night after night after night ... or fear being home alone ...

This particular incident happened six months ago, just before Christmastime.  I was walking home after work; I had worked the late shift, so it was dark out.  It was after 11 in the evening when I'd finally left the restaurant where I was employed.  I was in a hurry to get home, so I decided to take the shortcut.

It was cold out and snowy.  The alley where I was walking was poorly lit; I didn't care:  I just wanted to get home, to the comfort of my apartment, where I could make myself a cup of orange-flavored tea and put a fire in the fireplace to warm my chilled bones.

I didn't even hear the person that was walking behind me.  One minute, I was walking home, with tea and a warm fire on my mind, and the next: I found  myself on the ground, a big, hulking shape kneeling over me.  I never was so terrified in my life; the fear only intensified when the gorilla-sized monster growled:  "Not a peep from you, lady, or yer dead!"

The man started fondling me; he then unzipped my pants ... and that is all I remember before I mercifully blacked out.

******************************************************************

When I came to, I was suprised to find myself in a hospital emergency room, lying on a bed.  Doctors and nurses were busily scurrying about, messing with IV lines and checking my eyes, pulse, blood pressure, breathing.  I was confused:  I didn't know what had happened, or how I ended up in the emergency room.  I then remembered The Man, and I immediately started crying hysterically.  I told the medical team that I was certain I had been raped.

After samples had been taken, a police officer that was at the hospital was sent in.  He talked to me, asking questions about the incident.  I told him I didn't know much; as I talked, I found myself growing more uncomfortable:  I didn't want to talk about it.  It was one of the worst moments of my life.

After my wounds had been treated, I was sent on my way.  I was in no condition to drive, so a cab was called.  I was then driven home, where I have been ever since.  I haven't been able to go to work; my emotions have been on high alert mode.  I don't know if I will ever get over The Incident; it's been six months, but I have been depressed and unable to go back to my job.  I keep seeing The Man's face leering lustily at me and hearing his low, growly voice. 

I know I will have to go to the police station repeatedly to talk to the police about the incident.  I just hope I can make it ...  I'm just thankful I'm still here:  the thug could have easily killed me, but maybe there was a reason that he didn't.  I also know that there will be court time once the suspect is caught ... that is, if he is ever found.

*End of part one.*