TW: mentions of assault and traumatic descriptions - (not too detailed, I couldn't write that but look for the ⚠️)

Hola mis pollitos! Sorry for the cliffhanger back there 😅.

I just wanted to say that this chapter is really heavy and I wrote this part with the intention of bringing awareness to the issue.

It doesn't matter what your wearing, who you're with, or what you're doing. The question "what was she wearing" pisses me off so much because it doesn't fucking matter what she was wearing if she said no.

Nobody deserves to be violated in that way. Doesn't matter if you're a man or a woman.

So, if you're ever at a bar, club, college party whatever, always be aware of your surroundings. Not just for your own benefit, but also so that you may be able to help someone who really needs it.

Okay sorry went into a little rant there.

Mila's POV

Run.

Run.

Run.

My heart raced as I stood abruptly from my chair.

I shoved through the crowded dance floor. The exit was all the way on the other side of the club. I didn't look back, my heart pounding in my chest.

Although I should've been scared, I wasn't. I was in a crowded room with hundreds of people, there's no way anything could happen to me.

My eyes scanned the darkened corners of the club, finally spotting Thomas's blonde head. I didn't bother apologizing as I pushed through sweaty bodies, keeping my eyes on him.

"Hey Mila," he waved, a cocktail shaker in his hand.

"Hi, have you seen Ajax?" I asked, my voice coming out shakily.

"Umm, I think I saw him leave with this blonde chick," he spoke loudly over the sound of the music.

"What?"

"Yeah, sorry babes. He left about 5 minutes ago," Thomas said, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Oh do yo-"

"Hold on," Thomas interrupted as the sound of shattering glass reached my ears. My eyes caught sight of a wine glass shattered on the floor, a man leaning on the counter completely waisted.

I didn't get the chance to ask him if he could call me an Uber, my phone tucked away in Ajax's jean pocket for safe keeping.

I knew I had to get out of here.

Nearly 10 minutes passed as I stood at the counter, not wanting to return to the far end of the club. Eventually I decided to go look for Lena.

I had last seen her by the staircase that was blocked off, leading to an upstairs section of the club with rooms reserved for... other things.

Adrenaline rushed through me as I hesitantly made my way towards the bar where I was previously sitting.

"Lena!" I shouted, relief flooding through me as I spotted her dancing with Gabby and a random guy.

She laughed at something the man said, but didn't hear me as I shouted her name. The music was now pounding in my ears and I felt sluggish.

I was so focused on getting Lena's attention, I didn't realize the man had caught sight of me.

My hands were beginning to shake and it was hard for me to concentrate on walking in a straight line.

My mind reeled as I remembered what I'd learned in my health class all those years ago.

Date rape drugs. Their effects could be felt within 15 minutes of ingestion.

My heart beat faster as I struggled to get to Lena. The man was easily 6 feet tall and had no problem getting people to make way for him. I could sense him getting closer and closer to me.

"Lena!" I yelled once again. This time she heard me.

Her brows furrowed as she looked around, trying to find out where I was calling her name from.

But it was no use.

For the first time in my life, a sense of sheer terror spread through me.

Run.

Run. Run.

Too late.

I felt his calloused hand grab onto my arm, yanking me towards the side of the dancefloor.

I opened my mouth to scream, but it was as if my body slowed. My mind was screaming at me to do something, anything. But my body refused to listen.

I stumbled into the mans chest as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, caging me in. Everything around me was blurry, like I had eyedrops in my eyes.

His grip on my wrist was tight as he dragged me through the crowd. I felt him stop walking and he fist bumped another man.

I hoped- no I prayed - that someone would notice me. A drugged girl being dragged by this burly man towards the staircase.

But no one did.

Everyone else was too occupied enjoying themselves to notice.

"Stop," I managed to utter, the word coming out slurred. I heard a jingle of keys and I was shoved into the dark staircase.

A sharp sting erupted as he slapped my butt, urging me to hurry up the stairs.

My skin was burning to the touch and my head felt like a 50 pound bag of sand rested on top of it. All I could here now was my breathing, everything else was muffled.

"lasse mich in ruhe (leave me alone)!" I groaned, shoving him as I stumbled into a dark room. But I was no match for his 200 pound figure.

From the dim lighting I could make out a bed and a window as well as a vanity with a lamp on top.

I hated how I had no control over my body. I could barely even lift my arms.

Those stupid drugs.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

My body completely froze as I felt his arms wrap around my waist from behind, his slimy lips on my neck.

Only Ajax could give me neck kisses.

Tears pricked my eyes both because of fear, and because of frustration that I couldn't push him off of me.

With no control over my motor skills, I was just a ragdoll.

"You are very beautiful," he spoke in accented English, shoving me onto the bed. He wasn't German, he had a much rougher accent.

I stared at his face through my drooping eyelids, trying to memorize his features. It didn't take much, I knew I'd never forget his face.

"Let me go," I hissed, trying to pull away from him.

"Shut up you worthless bitch. You listen to me, understood?" he spoke angrily, as if a flip had been switched.

My heart dropped as I felt his hands move to my jeans, unbuttoning the top button. I struggled in his hold, feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen as he pressed his lips against mine.

"Stop!" I screamed, pushing my arms against his chest. He lashed out, a sharp sting spreading through my cheek.

"Somebody help!" I shouted as my voice finally began to work. I could feel his hands fumbling with my jeans as I thrashed my body.

It felt like my voice bounced around the four walls of the room, but never reached beyond them.

"Don't even try. There's no one who will hear you," he growled, yanking roughly on my hair.

Tears escaped my eyes as I began full on crying.

"Ajax help me!" I whimpered in despair. But of course there was no way he could help. He was gone.

"Stop! Stop!"

It didn't work.

After years of living alone, I though I had all this down. I thought I would be able to escape this type of situation if I ever ended up in one.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side. A skull splitting headache and fever as well as being roofied made everything so much harder. I couldn't even take a few steps properly, let alone fight this man. If only I'd been in my normal state.

A sinking feeling settled in my chest as I slowly began to realize that there was no way out of this. It was over.

No.

No you can't give up.

Think Mila. Think.

"I'm on my period," I uttered out of sheer desperation. I read in an article that it sometimes worked. It was my final option.

My vocal chords were gone from all the screaming and my voice came out in a strangled whisper.

But he heard me.

He looked up, pausing his attempts to take off my jeans.

"Don't worry love. There's other things we can do," he spoke gruffly, standing up.

I didn't care what he said as relief flooded through me. He wasn't going to do anything to me.

My hands were shaking out of control as I lay immobile on the bed.

But the relief I felt was short lived as I heard the sounds of his jeans being unzipped.

Oh God.

There was nothing I could do but play along. I sat up, my head spinning. Slowly, I slid off the bed, getting as close to the vanity as I could. I dropped to my knees.

He seemed surprised at my actions.

I really didn't want to touch him but I had to. So I decided to start by making it seem like I was willing. My hands were shaking as I ran them down his chest. He closed his eyes for a split second as I got lower and I took advantage.

In a flash, I grabbed the pen on the vanity and plunged it as hard as I could into his lower abdomen.

He let out a roar of pain and I almost froze for a second.

Adrenaline pushed me to grab the lamp on the vanity and I slammed in onto his head. The man fell to the floor, hitting the bedpost on the way down.

He lay there, groaning as I blindly stumbled around the room. I spotted his arms reach out, grabbing onto a piece of the broken ceramic.

I didn't have a chance to react before he launched it at my face.

Hot pain seared through my head as it came in contact right above my eyebrow.

For a moment, I just wanted to fall to the floor and give up. Just lay there and fall asleep.

But I didn't.

My inner conscience urged me on.

Get up Mila. Don't let him win. You can do this. You can escape.

So I forced myself towards the door, fumbling with the doorknob.

Of course it was locked.

The room was like a hotel room so I knew there had to be a keycard somewhere. I kept glancing back at the man as I frantically searched for the keycard. He was grunting as he tried to get up.

I yanked harshly on the handle, willing it to open. I rummaged through the drawers of the vanity, throwing things onto the floor.

Finally, I found a black card tucked away in an envelope.

Oh thank you God.

I hurried towards the door but a tug on my ankle sent me tumbling to the ground.

"Fucking bitch," he growled as I tried to kick him away with my heels.

He held onto the block part of my heel and I finally managed to unclasp the buckle, freeing my feet.

I shoved the keycard into the slot, my hands still shaking as it beeped open.

My vision was blurred as I flew down the stairs, only pausing to remove my other heel. I shoved open the mini door blocking the barista only portion of the bar. Using the clear back to get to the other side of the club, I made it to the front exit without having to go through the crowd.

"Help!" I shouted the moment I was out of the club. I knew it was too loud inside to bother asking for help. My voice was already gone by then.

"Somebody help!" I cried, stumbling across the street. Whipping around at the sound of the door opening again, I spotted the man lurching towards me. I panicked as my vision blurred with tears once again.

A spark of hope rushed through me as I spotted the familiar red banner of Ben's restaurant. I saw him still dressed in his white chef's attire through the glass as he hurried to the door.

"Mila?" he called, worry clear in his voice.

"Help me!" I screamed as the man grabbed me by waist, yanking me like a ragdoll.

"Let her go!" Ben shouted, throwing a solid punch to the mans head.

He dropped to the floor, unmoving.

"Help me, help me," I repeated, clinging to Ben's.

"It's okay, you're okay," he whispered, picking me up and carrying me into the dark restaurant.

He set me on my feet, pulling a chair that had been placed on top of the table for closing.

"Water," he said, handing me a bottle. I almost choked as I gulped down the cool liquid.

A fluffy material draped over my shoulders and I realized it was a thick winter coat.

My heart rate was still all over the place as Ben turned on the lights of the kitchen. He sucked in a sharp breath as he took in my state.

I sat quietly while he poured water over a cut above my eyebrow.

He was talking on the phone, but I wasn't paying much attention. He titled my head, looking into my eyes. His lips were turned down in a frown, a line appearing between his brows with the concerned look on his face.

His hand rested in my lap and the other held his phone. I squeezed it tightly while my other hand shook violently despite being clenched in a fist.

I just wanted to sleep. But I couldn't even close my eyes without seeing his face.