Steffanie Boldman.
"Are you sure you want to walk home at 10 at night?" My best friend Melania asks behind me as I step out on her front porch.
"Yes I'm sure." I say smiling at her as her mocha brown eyes darted back and forth, watching the dark street behind me certainly looking for any signs of trouble.
"Alright call me if you need me." She sighs pulling me towards her embracing me in a tight hug, her warmth an instant comfort before letting me go with a gentle squeeze on my arms.
"I will. Later bestie." I say chuckling, tucking hair behind my ear as a light smile danced on my lips.
"Bye babe." She disappeared behind the large wooden door and I heard her lock it soon after.
I turned on my heel and started walking down the dark sidewalk, the streetlights shining warmly down, highlighting my path.
It wasn't a far walk, and I knew the path back home like the back of my hand. It's why I never questioned or thought twice about any danger, I was fully in control and was aware of what I was doing. Right?
Wrong. You'd think at 23 I wouldn't be so fucking naive.
I turned the corner deep in thought before a handful of drunk men laughing and drinking their beers caught my attention.
Goosebumps trace my arms and the hairs on the back of my neck stand, my body on high alert as I kept my head down hoping, praying they wouldn't notice me.
But my prayers weren't answered.
"Hey you!" A gruff voice calls out to me followed by deep coughs.
I squeezed my eyes shut and quickly reopened them, my heart beat accelerating by the second and anxiety tightening its grip around my throat as I quickened my pace.
Suddenly I was grabbed by my waist and was spun around, my breath hitching as I became paralyzed with fear. Not quick enough.
"I was talking to you." The man crooned in my ear, his dark eyes dancing in the night, full of mischief. He tightened his grip on my waist, his dirty fingers digging into my skin and pulling me into his chest.
I scrunched my nose up at his smell surrounding me, filling my senses and nauseating me immediately.
"Get your filthy fucking hands off me if you know what's good for you." I say sternly, hoping he doesn't notice my voice quiver as I struggle to get out of his grasp. But damn he was strong, his grip never wavering no matter how many times I jerked away.
"Oh, you're feisty. I enjoy when they fight back anyways." He murmured, ignoring my request while shoving his hand up my shirt and squeezing my right breast.
Dread overcame me and a sense of panic set in as his filthy hands massaged my breasts, a whimper escaped my lips as I curled my fingers into a fist and punched him with all my might, "Stop! Get off of me!"
It seemed my voice echoed into the night, falling on deaf ears. Better yet, no ears at all. No one was around, no one was coming to help me.
I bit my lip as tears threatened to spill out my eyes as he ran his tongue up my neck from the valley between my breasts. He was grunting and moaning as he thrusted his erection against me, humping my thigh like a damn dog. I clawed at his face and arms, anything I could sink my nails into. Despite my efforts and the warm blood I felt gathering under my nails, it was wasted energy. He was determined to get what he wanted. Me.
Suddenly a loud bang rang into the night, warm liquid splattered on my face and my ears began ringing soon after. I opened my eyes in shock to the sudden sound, the man assaulting me stared right back at me. A bullet hole going through the center of his forehead. I watched as his grip loosened and his body slumped into a heap on the floor. Unmoving.
