“I can’t remember anything,” I tell police who’ve just draped a blanket over my shivering, near-naked body. My shredded clothing is scattered about.
“Take it easy, Miss. The ambulance is here,” the cop says. The siren slows with a growl, and the paramedics hurry to help me. At school, everybody will know I was raped.
Gowned in the ER, I’m examined and questioned. I am furious, shattered, bruised, and hurting. Everyone’s clueless because I tell them I don’t remember, but I actually do, and that SOB football captain will pay one day soon at the barrel end of my father’s gun.