Everything's for Sale (F/M)

[noyoyo]

Part I

I’ve had a lot of time the last four days to reflect on my life choices. Specifically, my decision to attend Boston University, and my decision to live off campus.

A few nights ago I was at home, watching Thursday Night Football. My family is pretty well off. In addition to paying my full tuition, my parents had rented me an apartment in Boston. The theory was that I would do better in school with fewer distractions. It hadn’t really worked out that way, of course. My final exams for the first semester were next week, and I was watching football alone. My girlfriend was working, and she had already told me that she wouldn’t be coming over. She had a scholarship, and so had a lot more invested in doing well next week. Even my boys had blown me off to get a head start at the library.

My biggest concern, at that moment, had been that the Green Bay Packers season was spiraling down the toilet.

So at 7pm, with an 8am class the following day, I decided to treat myself to a quiet night at home. I cracked open a Sam Adam’s and plopped myself down on the couch. To my disgust, the main topic of the pregame show was the sorrowful state of the Packers. Just as Willie McGinest was trying to rationalize the decision to fire Mike McCarthy, I heard something.

I looked into the kitchen, but obviously the sound hadn’t come from within the apartment. I keep a pretty clean place. There were a couple of grad students down the hall who occasionally got a little rowdy. So I dismissed it.

But then there was another noise. This time it was more persistent, like someone knocking on the door. Except I wasn’t expecting anyone, and it didn’t quite sound like knocking on the door.

I got up somewhat cautiously, listening for a clue as to what the sound might be. But I heard nothing. I flicked on the lights to the kitchen. My ground floor apartment had a back door that led out onto a patio. As I rounded the corner I saw that the door was still closed and securely locked. I continued to approach slowly, still listening for a clue…

Out of nowhere, a damp cloth was pressed fiercely over my face, including my eyes. I gasped in shock, inhaling a heavy whiff of whatever chemical the rag was drenched in. I reached up instinctively to try and pry the rag off my face, but in an instant I felt someone’s leg swipe behind mine. The swift momentum, and the pressure of the rag against my face, sent me tumbling against the wall before I collapsed to the floor. My hands reflexively went down to break my fall, but my attacker quickly took the opportunity to straddle me. I was trapped with my back against the wall, and my attacker’s weight on my lap. Whoever it was used their knees to pin my arms against the floor.

I remember struggling to free my right hand, but everything got really hazy really fast. I think I eventually wrestled myself flat against the floor. I remember reaching up with my one loose hand to try and grab at my attacker’s face, and I think I remember trying to grab at a full head of hair. As ridiculous as it sounds, I think the last thought that went through my head was about how silky the hair felt…