Emily walked upstairs, getting away from the blaring noise. She hadn't wanted to come to this party, it just wasn't her thing, but her best friend, Sasha, insisted. At the moment, Sasha was on the dance floor, grinding with a guy who supposedly went to their school, and she was alone. The entire second level was vacated, and so quiet. The music from downstairs was barely audible. She found the bathroom, stepped in, and closed the door behind her. There was no line here and the bathroom was still clean. She couldn't say the same for the two downstairs. She opened the tap, and let the cool water flow. Once it was extremely cold, she cupped the water in her hands and splashed her face with it. She instantly felt 10 times better. She dried her face and then ambled out.

Suddenly, Emily felt a tugging on her hand. Someone was pulling her into a bedroom. She couldn't see who it was because the light was dim, but she figured it was Sasha, too excited and too drunk to wait to tell her what happened with her and the guy.

"Sasha, did you--"

"Shut up," A low voice growled. Then, Emily heard the soft sound of the lock turning.

"Who are you?" Emily asked cautiously.

"None of your business," He replied. He didn't turn on any lights and he didn't bother with any explanations. He pushed Emily on to the bed, hard.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" She tried to pick herself up, but he didn't let her. He went down on the bed, on top of her. She tried to push him away, but nothing she did made him get off.

"Help me! Someone, help!" She tried screaming, but he instantly silenced her by placing his mouth on hers. Her scream died in her throat, but bile rose up. He was tugging on her mouth and her tongue, and kissing her with his mouth wide open. It was the sloppiest and most disgusting kiss she had ever experienced. Then, he bit her tongue.

"OW!" She shrieked. The guy came back up for air, but only because her tongue had started to bleed.

"Let me go! What the hell is your problem?! Who are you?"

"Didn't I tell you to," He started to pull her shirt up. "Shut up?" She tried to stop him. She tried to tug her shirt back down but he ripped it apart.

"Help me! Someone, please!" She tried screaming again. This time, he slapped her across her face. Her hand shot up to her eye, as tears sprang out.

"Just my luck, I picked a stupid, retarded idiot! Do you not understand what shut up means?!" He yelled into her ear. She flinched away, and managed with the hand that was free, to punch him across the face. He fell away from her, and that was the only incentive she needed to run. But she only got as a far as a few steps before he jumped on her, causing her head to slam into the wall. His full weight was on her as he whispered in her, "Now you've done it, you little bitch." He picked her up, using her hair. She screamed out in pain and tried to pull herself away but he didn't let go. He threw her on to the bed, a small wad of her hair parted with her head and into his hands. He threw it onto the ground and un-did his jeans. Emily was whimpering on the bed. Her head was in so much pain, and her face was burning.

"This would have been so much easier if you had just listened to me!" She weakly tried kicking him away, but he grabbed her leg and twisted it around. She groaned. He unhooked her bra and threw it across the room. Emily tried covering herself up with her hands but he took her wrists into one of his own large hands and pulled them over her head.

"If you weren't so retarded, you could actually be pretty. No guy ever wants his girl to be stupid," He said softly into her ear. He put his mouth on her breast, and started tugging. There was nothing pleasurable or romantic about it. It just hurt, and she didn't like it all. She tried to move her body away, but his mouth was stuck to her, and her hands were useless. She started to cry, because she, herself, felt so useless. Some random man was about to rape her, and she was helpless to stop it.

At the top of her lungs, she started screaming again. She knew that he would hurt her somehow, and he did. He tugged harder on her breast, and then started to bite hard on it. She screamed even harder, but still, no one came.
He finally stopped, but didn't let go of her hands. He managed to pull down her skirt and underwear, so she was completely naked underneath him. Suddenly, a burst of moonlight came in through the window, and she managed to see who he was. It was the guy that Sasha was dancing with.

"Recognize me, do you?" He snarled, as he pulled his boxers down. "Your friend was too drunk. There would have been no satisfaction in fucking her, because she wouldn't have remembered the next day. You, my dear, will remember this forever and I will enjoy fucking you." With that, he pushed into her, as she cried out in pain one last time. When he was done, he pulled his boxers and jeans back, fastened his belt, and unlocked the door. Emily was on the bed, her eyelids nearly closed, tears streaming out. Blood was pooling in between her legs.

He smiled disgustedly and as he opened the door, looked back and said, "Your so pathetic, you little bitch. This was such a waste of my time. I could've done better with a five year old."

With that, he slammed the door and left. Taking her virginity with him.

Five years later..
Emily was about to walk into the coffee shop before work, when she dropped her purse on the sidewalk, and everything inside it fell out. She bent down to pick everything up, which was kind of hard to do in her skirt. Suddenly she saw a pair of hands that weren't her own pick up her lip-gloss. Very large, masculine hands. She looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes and had a sudden flashback to that night 5 years ago when she was 18. She jumped, and everything in her hands scattered around her again. Her heart was pounding hard and she was starting to sweat. She could hear him in her mind, "If you weren't so retarded, you could actually be pretty." Hatred and anger flared in her, but it wasn't at this man.

"Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," He said, and Emily calmed down the slightest bit because his voice was nothing like his. But she was still too close. She felt claustrophobic. She gathered everything that was on the ground as fast as she could, ripped her lip gloss out of the guy's hands and marched off as fast as her high heels let her. She didn't even stop for her coffee.