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Introduction:

The following chapter of this story is not intended to be erotic. If you have not read the previous chapters to this story you will likely not understand this chapter at all so please read the others first. I wrote this chapter as a necessary part of this story. The story will continue with further chapters and those will again be erotic but with the subject matter of this chapter it was not fitting. Thanks for your understanding.
I didn’t sleep very much that night. No sooner then I would drift off to sleep I would begin to dream about being in the hotel room again. I would suddenly wake, terrified shaking and crying and I felt bad because I was waking Elizabeth up as well. But she never got upset with me and just asked me if I was okay to which I always responded that I was. She would give my hand a soft squeeze and stroke my hair softly. I was relieved when the night was over so I could stop dreaming of him and what happened. The next morning when I woke up she told me she was going to get me some breakfast and she disappeared for a while. She returned with a bed tray with fruit and yogurt and a toasted bagel with cream cheese. I ate my breakfast slowly as I still felt in a haze after what had happened. My chest still hurt and it was still hard to breath and I was a little worried if there might be something serious wrong. But I just didn’t think I could ask my mother to take me to the hospital. I started thinking about asking Elizabeth could I tell my mother I fell down the stairs at her house. After eating I really wanted to bathe again so I set the tray aside and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. I asked Elizabeth if she had another pair of panties I could borrow and she quickly got me a fresh pair. I took a long shower and it felt good to shower this time and I ran the water very hot till it almost burned but I needed to feel that to try to somehow make me feel clean of him and maybe even of everything I had been doing. When I got out of the shower I saw my body in the mirror and my bruises looked horrible. I definitely had my first black eye and I could see why my lip bled as I had an obvious split of my lip and it was still a little puffy. My side and lower chest looked horrible and the bruise there was huge and very black and blue. The bite on my breast looked very much like a hickey with teeth imprints and I felt ashamed he marked me like that. The bruise on my leg inside my thigh also looked pretty bad and I worried how much of this I could hide from my mother. As I got dressed I noticed that Elizabeth had taken the dirty underwear out of the bathroom and thought that very nice of her, she was being so kind.

When I came out of the bathroom Elizabeth asked me how I was doing and I told her I was doing okay. She asked how my ribs were feeling and I told her they still hurt. She invited me to go downstairs to sit out on their back porch and have some lemonade and get my mind off of things and I thought that to be a good idea. She got the lemonade and her dog was outside playing and it was nice to watch him chase a ball as she threw it and it helped me get my mind off of things. I built up my nerve and asked her a question, “Do you think I could tell my mom I fell down the stairs here?” She looked at me stunned and didn’t really know what to say. I could tell she was thinking about it but she also looked very unsure. “I don’t know,” she said, “wouldn’t that make your mom call mine and then she will ask her about what happed so we would have to lie to my mom first.” I nodded thinking about that and I knew it was a lot to ask to blame her home for all my bruises. “I can’t think of any other believable . . . lie,” I added hesitantly. She looked down at the ground thinking and sat quiet for a while. “Maybe you could tell the truth,” she said and I could tell that’s what she really wanted. “I can’t Elizabeth, it’s just too much, my mother would freak and wouldn’t let me ever see Scott again,” I replied. “See Scott. . . you still want to see Scott. . . Look Tori, I don’t know what happened to you, because you wont tell me, but even without knowing anything other then that you look like you got your ass kicked and you admitted you were raped I have enough sense to know that somehow he. . . Scott is responsible for this,” she said strongly. I sat quietly letting what she said fill the silence. I watched her throw the ball again for the dog and he chased it happily. Then the front door bell rang. Elizabeth got up and disappeared into the house.

As I heard the backdoor open and close again I suddenly heard a familiar voice, “Hey baby cakes,” Scott said and came over to me and leaned in to kiss my cheek, but I turned my face away so he couldn’t. He looked at my face surprised with me turning away, but then his eyes opened wide and he realized why. “What the fuck happened to you,” he asked sounding surprised? “That’s what I’d like to know,” Elizabeth shot back quickly. She then walked over to me and very carefully pulled the sweatshirt I was wearing up to just below my breasts exposing the bruises on my side to Scott. His eyes opened wide and he just starred at me. “Who. . . what. . . how the hell,” he stammered around. Elizabeth looked him square in the eyes. “Who did this to her Scott,” she asked him? He looked at her for just a moment then looked back at me in the eyes. “Did. . . he. . . he did this” he asked still stuttering? I just nodded knowing he knew who did this. “I. . . I um. . . I’m sorry baby,” he added. “You should be you asshole,” Elizabeth shot at him, this is your fault.” I looked at her stunned when she got in front of him and hit him hard in the chest with both hands pushing him back from me and said harshly but quietly, “She was raped, you asshole.” I sat quietly and crossed my arms trying not to cry and I couldn’t look at him and looked down. Scott shifted around on his feet and stuttered again and said, “I. . . he. . . I’m so sorry.” She just starred at him as he starred at me. “You should be. This is your fault,” she added. I couldn’t believe she was saying all this to him but I wasn’t upset with her for it because she was telling the truth. Scott just turned and walked back to the backdoor opening it and heading into the house. Elizabeth paced back and forth breathing hard very angry and finally sat back down in her chair. I just sighed.

My mind was racing, at first I was mad at her as she had to have called him because as far as I knew they were not like the best of friends and I don’t think he just stops by her place now and again. But I couldn’t be upset with her because rather then me having to find him and trying to explain what happened she showed him and told him what he needed to know. I was worried that he might go do something stupid but there was nothing I could do right now I had myself and my family to deal with. She looked at the ground and then surprised me by saying, “You can say you fell here I’m going to go tell my mother. She’s going to come check on you are you ready for that” she asked. Then she added, “What are you going to do if she asks you to go to the hospital?” “I don’t know,” I said, “maybe I’ll go.” She looked at me thinking. . . . “Okay,” she said and headed into the house to go tell her mother that I had fallen down the stairs.

She was right her mother came outside right away. “Oh Tori, are you okay dear,” her mother said lifting my chin looking at my black eye and split lip. “Yes ma’am I’m fine, just a little sore,” I replied. “I’m so sorry honey, was it the stairs or something,” she asked I’m sure she was worried I might want to sue. I let out a little chuckle putting on my best face, “No ma’am I tripped on my own clumsy two left feet.” She looked at me taking in what I’d said then asked, “Should I take you to the hospital?” “No ma’am, if I don’t feel better I’ll have my mom take me later,” I answered. She looked at Elizabeth looking concerned and then seemed to calm down and said, “Okay dear, just let us know if there is anything we can do.” With that she turned and headed back into the house. “Thank you,” I said to Elizabeth. She looked back at me and gave me a soft still concerned smile and sat back down taking a sip of her lemonade.

As lunch approached she went inside and made us some fresh salads to eat. She refilled our lemonade glasses and sat back down. “Tori, will you go to the doctor for me please,” she asked, “I think you could be hurt bad on your ribs and I need to know that you’re okay. You don’t have to tell them what happened.” I thought about it a few moments then replied, “Okay, I’ll see what my mom says and try to go,” We sat silently and ate our lunch. After we finished she stood up taking our plates back inside then came back out and asked, “Ready to go home?” I nodded and she helped me to my feet. She hugged me very gently and then we walked together inside the house and then out the front door. She took me to her car a very nice Lexus and drove me home.

I got home and let myself in and was able to get to my room without running into my sister Sherri, my mom or my dad. I turned on my music and just settled back on my bed and drifted off to sleep having slept so little last night. I woke to my sister’s voice, “What the hell happened to you?” I opened my eyes looking up at her trying to get my focus. “I fell,” I replied. “Wow,” she said and then pissed me off yelling, “Mom.” I wish I could have put a sock in her mouth before she yelled out but within a few minutes my mom poked her head in my room and again Sherri shot her mouth off, “Look at her face.” My mom stepped in closer and looked at my face and saw my lip and my eye. “Tori, what happened are you okay,” she asked?

“I’m fine,” I replied, “I just fell.” “Fell into what,” my stupid sister asked? “I fell down some steps,” I answered. Mom took careful hold of my chin and turned my face back and forth looking. “What steps, what were you doing,” she asked. “I just wasn’t paying attention and lost my balance,” I answered softly. Mom kept looking at my face then looked further down my body. “Did you get hurt anywhere else,” she asked? I really had to think about this one because I was still hurting pretty bad in my chest and if I lied now I couldn’t take it back if I felt even worse. I thought about it a little longer and then decided I’d better tell the truth and I slowly lifted up the sweatshirt. “Oh my God Tori that looks terrible, you need to see a doctor. Does it hurt,” she asked and I nodded acknowledging that it did. “Okay let me make some calls and we’ll get you in to see a doctor,” she said and walked out of my room. My sister looked at my bruise and I pulled my shirt back down not wanting her to look at it anymore. “That looks painful,” Sherri said. I just shrugged not wanting to validate anything she said. At that she turned and left my room.

About 45 minutes my mother came up to my room and told me to head to her car that we were going to the hospital. We got there and sat in the waiting room about two hours which was miserable. My name was then called and I was taken to an exam room and waited there another 30 minutes. Finally a nurse came in and took my temperature, my blood pressure and checked my pulse. She then asked me what I was there for and I told her I had fallen down some steps and that I had some bruises and my chest hurt. I lifted the sweatshirt and showed her my side and chest. She noted it all down on a chart and then left the room. Again I sat another 45 minutes. Finally a doctor came in with a nurse in tow. The doctor put on his rubber gloves and then looked at my eye and then turned to nurse and asked her to take my mother out to the waiting area. He looked at my eye and my lip until the nurse returned. When she returned he asked her to get me into a gown and he stepped out of the room.

The nurse had me undress except for my panties and gave me a hospital gown that opened in the back. He then returned and looked at my eye and felt around my face and asked me what hurt and felt around in different places around my eye and cheek. He looked at the cut on my lip and inside my lip. He then told me he was going to look at my chest and he untied the gown at the neck in back and slowly pulled the gown down and forward. He looked me over and within seconds he was looking at my hickey on my breast. He then asked me how I got my injuries. I told him I had fallen down steps. He then asked, “And where did this passion mark come from.” I hesitated wondering if I could make him think it came from the fall and finally decided I could not and said, “My boyfriend gave it to me. The doctor asked, “Are you dating a vampire?” I let out a little chuckle and answered, “No sir.” He then suggested that I should not let people bite my breast as bites could easily get infected. He then had me sit up straight and he began to look at my side and my ribs. I quickly winced when he touched on the bruises. He looked at the nurse and said, “We’ll need an x-ray of this.” She answered, “Yes doctor,” and wrote that down in the chart. He continued to feel carefully and touch around the bruise and I winced and groaned frequently. He apologized for hurting me. He lifted my hair out of the way and looked all around my neck and back and around my other side.

He then helped me put the top of the gown back up and on. Once it was tied in place he lifted the bottom on the gown up to my waist. He looked at each of my feet and then up each leg until he found the bruise on my thigh. Again he felt around the bruise pushing on it in different places which made me wince and groan again. “Did this happen in the fall as well,” he asked? “Yes sir,” I said. “Joan,” he said to the nurse, “I am going to need a pelvic exam and you will need to get her mother’s permission.” “Yes doctor,” she replied. He then turned to me and said, “I am going to get you an x-ray of your ribs and we are also going to do a pelvic exam. I just need to be sure that you are okay from your. . .ummm. . . fall.” He paused and walked behind me and put his stethoscope to my back. He then told me to take a deep breath. I did but only could take it in so far. He had me take a couple more deep breaths and listened to different places on my back. He even listened to my side and then in front.

When he finished checking my breathing he asked me to stand up and he looked down my legs and I realized he also looked at my butt. I jerked forward when he touched a place on my butt where the coach had hit me with the bamboo stick. “How did you get these marks,” he asked? I stood quiet not sure what to say. I couldn’t think of a quick lie and I didn’t want to blame Scott for it. Finally I said the only lie I could come up with, “I guess from the fall.” “Hmmm,” he replied. “Tori, we are going to do a pelvic exam of you with your mother’s consent. Do you know what that is,” he asked. “I think so,” I replied. “I am going to have to take a look at you down here and make sure you didn’t receive injuries down there during you fall. I am concerned about the red marks on your bottom and legs and the x-ray will help me make sure there are no broken or cracked ribs. Do you understand,” he asked? I nodded. He then did a lot of writing in the chart and said he would be back shortly and he left the room. The nurse told me I could lie down or sit but just to relax for a while and she would be back shortly.

Within a few minutes a different nurse came to my room to take me for the x-ray. We didn’t go too far away just down a few hallways and they took an x-ray of my chest. Then I was brought back to my room. When I returned there was a table covered by a cloth sitting in the room and there were metal devices at the end of the exam table I later learned were called stirrups. The doctor and nurse returned after just a few minutes and she asked me to remove my panties. He told me my mother had consented to the pelvic exam and showed me the form with her signature. He asked me was I okay with it or did I need to speak to her. I said I was okay with it. The nurse then helped me lie back on the table and put my butt just at the edge of the exam table and helped put each heel in the stirrups. She adjusted them much wider and I felt very embarrassed by this realizing my doctor was going to be looking between my legs. He washed his hands and put on a fresh pair of gloves and then walked to the end of the table between my legs. The nurse stood there right next to him. I felt his finger then touch the back of one of my thighs and then the other I assumed at the red marks from the bamboo stick. I then was stunned at his next question, “Tori are you sexually active?” I swallowed hard and knew I’d better tell the truth so I replied, “Yes sir?” He then asked me, “How old are you?” And I didn’t reply. He then asked me if I was using protection. I paused at his question and answered, “No sir.” He then asked, “Tori you understand that you could become pregnant or get a venereal disease, right?” “Yes sir,” I replied. I then gasped when I felt him press his finger to my sex. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable,” he added. And I felt his finger feel around me down there. I felt so ashamed. He then said something that made me more nervous, “Tori, I am going to insert a speculum inside your vagina to continue your pelvic exam, it may be a bit uncomfortable, okay,” he asked? “Okay,” I replied. He was right it didn’t feel good at all as he pushed the device at my sex. It was very uncomfortable and it hurt more as I felt it open me more. I was letting out little groans but he seemed to be trying to be careful so I didn’t complain. I felt very ashamed. He then pulled a very bright light over his shoulder shining it between my legs and I felt other instruments touch me down there. I wanted to be anywhere but here. He then told me I would be feeling some pressure and it might be uncomfortable. And I did and it felt more then uncomfortable. He then turned to the nurse and asked her to get a consult from Dr. Jones. The nurse stepped out and returned a few minutes later. A few minutes after that another doctor came in this one female. He handed her the chart first and she took a look at it then she also got between my legs and looked at me down there. I felt sick to my stomach and felt so ashamed and felt like they could see into my soul. I managed to get out the words, “I’m going to be sick. . .” and before I said anymore I had to roll on my side and I threw up onto the floor. The nurse tried to hurry over with a bowl but it only caught a little at the end of my purge. I felt even more ashamed having just hurled onto the floor. I said, “I’m sorry,” and started to cry. “It’s okay honey,” the nurse replied, “it happens, don’t worry about it.” And she brought a wet washcloth up to my face and wiped around my mouth. The doctor asked me if I was okay before they returned to the exam and I nodded that I was. I was so ashamed I had vomited and it smelled horrible. As they continued the exam the nurse again stepped from the room and then returned. Dr. Jones then also examined me down there and while she was doing so the door opened and closed as a janitor came into the room. I felt even more ashamed as the 20 something man came into the room and began to mop up my vomit while I was still laying there with my feet still in the stirrups. He sprayed some spray on the floor and mopped more and then sprayed again and wiped it up this time with paper towels. The bad smell was now covered by chemical. To my relief he then left the room. Dr. Jones adjusted the tool inside me smaller again and then removed it and I felt her finger feel around me there. The other doctor’s finger again went to the marks on my thighs and I guessed he was showing them to her and I also felt his finger touch my bottom. She then came up to my side and asked me could she look at my chest and I just nodded. She looked at the bite mark on my chest and then looked at the bruise on my ribs. When she finished she again tied my gown around my neck and then told me I could put my legs down and sit back up. She offered me a hand to sit and I slowly sat back up.

My doctor came back in front of me after removing his gloves and washing his hands. Dr. Jones did the same. He then began to speak, “Tori, I am concerned that you may have been the victim of a sexual assault as your body reflects markings to that effect. A colleague of ours is going to come in and speak with you and ask you some very difficult questions. It’s very important that you answer her questions honestly. I am going to prescribe a mild anti biotic for you and also we are going to have to take a blood sample to check for STD’s. Do you understand all of that?” I nodded having heard of STD’s at school before. “Do you have any questions of me or Dr. Jones before we leave,” he asked? I shook my head no. “One more question for you,” he said and continued, “could we have your permission for the nurse to take photographs of your wounds for our records?” I nodded and with that the two doctors left the room. The nurse told me she would be right back and she left and came back a few minutes later. She took some blood from me and put it into bottles and labeled it with my name and then she had me take off the gown and stand up naked on the floor. She then took pictures of my breast and my ribs. She then had me turn my knee out and took pictures of my inner thigh and then she walked behind me and took photographs of my back and bottom and the back of my legs. She then told me I could get dressed and there would be someone back with me shortly and she left the room.

I still felt sick but got dressed. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed and was sweating and scared of having lied. I wasn’t sure of what they thought but had a feeling they didn’t believe it was from the fall. I was so ashamed that two doctors and a nurse had looked at me down there and I was ashamed that the janitor saw me lying like that. I was also ashamed she had taken pictures of me naked like that and I felt very dirty again. I was alone in the room for about 15 minutes when another lady dressed very professionally came into the room. She handed me a business card that said she was Dr. Melanie Smith and it said she was a family therapist and rape counselor and had a bunch of letters I didn’t understand. She then introduced herself to me and shook my hand and smiled at me. She told me that the doctor had asked her to talk to me because he believed I had been the victim of a sexual assault. She said by law it was required for him to refer me to her and that I might have to talk to a police officer as well. I felt like I swallowed a rock.

She told me that we were going to discuss some very important things and that it was very important that I be completely honest with her. She told me that if any crime was committed she was required to report such crimes to the police. She then asked me did I understand. I felt sick again because I knew Scott was older than I and I really got scared to answer any of her questions. She then started asking me a lot of questions. She wanted to know, who had made the marks on my body. I told her I fell. She asked me about the bite on my chest and I just shrugged. She told me the doctor indicated in my chart that my boy friend had made that mark and she asked me was that true. I decided to answer that one truthfully and I told her he had not. This raised her eyebrow. “Who bit your breast Tori,” she asked. I looked down and didn’t answer and just shrugged. “Who made the welts on your buttocks and thighs,” she asked? I just shrugged again. “Was it your father,” she asked to which I quickly answer strongly, “Noooooo.” “Was it your mother,” she asked to which I again answered an affirmative, “Nooooo.” “Was it a family member,” and again I answered, “Nooooo.” “Can you tell me who made those marks on your body,” she asked. I just shook my head no. She sighed.

“Tori, I think something serious happened to you and we just want to help you. The only way we can help you is if you help us, you must tell us the truth,” she said. I just kept starring at the floor. She then asked me had the person who made the marks on my legs and buttocks had sex with me. I just looked down without answering. Again she sighed. “Is there anything you can tell me about your bite, the marks on your legs or the bruises on your body,” she asked. I just shook my head no. “Were the wounds from a fall,” she asked. I just looked down. She gently lifted my chin up so I had to look her in the eyes, “Tori, I believe you were the victim of a sexual assault and because of this and your inability to convince me otherwise it is the hospital’s job to report our suspicion to the police. “I noticed to a few questions you answered me No so I am going to assume to those questions you were answering me honestly as apposed to the questions you did not answer at all, so I am going to ask you a few more questions and if you can answer them I would appreciate it very much. Do you understand,” she asked. I nodded.

“Did anyone in your family, in your home, have any part of the marks on your body,” she asked. I replied, “NO.” “Did your boyfriend have any part of any of the marks on your body,” she asked. I hesitated but replied, “No.” “If we send you home are you in danger of another such injury,” she asked. “NO,” I answered strongly. “What is the name of your boyfriend,” she asked. I did not answer. Her tone then softened and she reached into her notebook and handed me some brochures and said, “You may want to seek some counseling these brochures have phone numbers and names of groups and people that can help you. Any of them are completely confidential and do NOT have to report to the police unless your life is at risk. I strongly encourage you to seek help for what you have been through as I am confident that someone has hurt you in some way.” She lifted my chin again and smiled a soft firm smile. “Okay,” she asked. I answered, “Okay.”

We need you to remain in this room a little longer okay,” she asked and I shook my head okay. I sat there alone for the next hour and cried now and then. Occasionally the nurse came in and checked on me. Finally after about an hour and fifteen minutes someone knocked on the door and then entered. It was another lady dressed professionally. She came in and showed me identification and she was with our local police department. She then peppered me with similar questions to those that the counselor had asked. She was a bit harsher and tried to push me to tell her things and kept telling me that she was trying to help me. I got even more quiet with her then I had been the counselor and I just wanted this to end. She was with me for a full hour before finally giving up. I was exhausted. She finally left and again I sat alone for about a half hour. Then finally the nurse returned with my mother. The nurse gave my mother a couple prescriptions for antibiotics and for valium in case I had trouble sleeping. My mother looked very concerned. My mother thanked her and finally we were on the way home.

No sooner then we got in the car and she started peppering me with questions. I had had enough of it and as soon as she did I began to cry and to shake. Mom seeing this realized I had been through a lot and stopped asking questions. She then said to me, “Tori, something happed to you and I am your mother and I only want to help you. You’re not going to get into trouble for something you didn’t do wrong and your father and I are going to need you to be honest with us or we can’t help you. They think you were sexually assaulted were you?” I just looked at the floorboard sniffling. She then started again softly, “Tori we love you and we are here for you and I hope you can talk to me when you’re ready. Please don’t try to keep this all bottled up inside you.” We rode home the rest of the way in silence.

The last 30 hours had been about the worst in my life. I was so relieved to be in my room and lying on my bed. Since I was not cooperating with my mother at all she decided to leave me alone for awhile. I turned on my music and tried my best to put it all out of my mind but the images of the counselor and the police office and all their questions kept coming back to my mind. The events of the afternoon only added to the memories of the previous night and I struggled not to constantly burst into tears. I was stunned to hear the doorbell and then I heard voices downstairs. The voices went on for a while and I was more frightened when my parents came up to my room and my father seemed very stern with me. He was very upset because the police had just been to our home. They had asked him what he knew about the marks on my body and where he had been the last few days. He demanded I come clean with him on what had happened to me and if I was raped or assaulted by someone, namely Scott. The pressure of all this, the thought that the police had even questioned my own father just made me break down and I begin to cry hysterically. My mother had to get him to back off. He was very angry and upset and I understood I just could not talk about it right now to anyone. He finally calmed down and sat down on the bed and held me while I cried. He told me he was sorry and told me he was sorry he couldn’t protect me. But he just kept upsetting me more saying it had to be that son of a bitch Scott. I was only able to shake my head no and cry and again my mother had to get him to back off. He apologized again and again hugged me and finally she got him to go downstairs. She got me one of my antibiotics and two of the valium and suggested I try to get some sleep.

I fought horrible nightmares that night and spent most of the next day in bed unable to answer more questions from my parents. My father had to go down to the police station to give a statement and account for his time the last few days. I felt horrible about all this but my mind was shutting down more and more and I was terrified what might happen to Scott. I could hardly think rationally and again shut down and took a long afternoon nap thanks to the valium. I hoped things would feel more normal tomorrow at school.

To be continued.
15 comments

anonymous readerReport

2013-01-08 01:34:51
Again. Beautiful artistry honey. Like Edgar Allen Poe. Writing about pain yet described almost flawlessly.

anonymous readerReport

2012-09-06 17:02:48
Brokenwing, I believe I'm starting to understand why this story is
as long as it is. your damned good writer. Keep doing what your doing. You have a very real telent that this psycopathic world of ours desperatly needs right now.. God bless and keep on truckin...
... Barbusie ...

Anonymous readerReport

2009-04-15 14:59:36
this is beutifully written but very depressing

zazetteReport

2009-02-19 14:58:39
I think it's the most important part of the story so far. Your breathtaking writing style just makes me believe being right there with her. if there was any way i could comfort her i would...
poor thing...

zazezReport

2009-02-19 14:54:19
Its up to now the most important part of the story to my mind. Your breathtaking writing style makes me feel like i actually am in the story. i would love to comfort her if i could

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