I've never once been in a situation even remotely close to this, so I'm not sure how to handle it. I do know that the dispatch operator can track my phone to our location even if I don't say anything, so I throw it back down onto the ground and decide to try CPR.
Whether or not it's the right thing to do, I'm not sure, but I have to try something. I did a course about four years ago, and I think I remember most of what I'm supposed to do.
I shrug off my sweater, tossing it to the side, and then double-check that she has a pulse before tilting her head back. Pressing my mouth to hers, I blow one breath and then wait five seconds.
When I go to do it again, she lets out a muffled scream against my lips. I pull back, feeling fucking relieved that she's at least responding.
“Get away from me!” she shrieks with wide eyes, her words coming out slurred. “Stop touching me!” She starts waving her arms in my direction, trying to hit me as if I'm attacking her.
I grab at them in an attempt to settle her down. “Jennifer, stop. I'm trying to help you.”
“No! You fu- you fuckin' rapedme.”
“What?” The blood drains from my face. “No. No, I didn't. Shit.”
One of her hands breaks free from my grasp, and she makes a swipe at my face. Her nail makes contact, slicing my cheek and I release her other arm to reach up and cover the sting. Wetness seeps onto my fingertips as blood escapes the wound. She got me pretty good, but I don't even care right now.
My phone's flashlight is still illuminating the area around us, and I watch as she shuffles back to try to get away from me.
“It wasn't me, Jennifer.” I try to make my voice sound soothing, but it ends up cracking.
My stomach revolts at the thought of doing something like that to her, rapingher, and it fucking kills me to see her so afraid of me.
She fidgets with her fingers while her eyes flick all around us.
Her pupils look huge in the light from my phone which means she's either high, or drunk, or maybe a bit of both.
Maybe the guy that did this to her drugged her or something? Was it that guy who ran into me?
Her hand dips down to her upper thighs, and she rubs over the area, grimacing like she's in pain. I can see a streak of blood trailing along her inner leg that I didn't see before.
Is that from what the guy did to her? Or is it from mewhen I tried to pull her skirt down? Shit.
This built-in need to comfort her has me starting to crawl slowly toward her, but as soon as she notices, she holds her hands up in front of her.
“No. Stay away. Please,” she begs and starts crying. “Stay away.”
My chest caves in at the sight of her so distressed and it aches at the fact that she thinks I did this to her. I can't stand to let her think that of me.
“Jennifer, listen, it wasn't me,” I try to say it calmly and quietly. Meanwhile, I'm close to breaking down as well.
I can't even begin to imagine what she's been through tonight. If I'm feeling this fucked up about it, then what the hell must she be feeling?
Sirens sound in the distance, and a range of emotions cross her face when her eyes turn in that direction and then immediately flit back to me. Like she's relieved or something.
Her whole body is shaking from everything that has happened to her as well as from the cool night air, her bottom lip quivering right along with it.So I stand up, slowly picking up my sweater as I go, and then try to move closer again.
“Here, take this. You're cold.”
Her wary eyes stay focused on me, but she seems a little calmer and doesn't tell me to stay away this time. Maybe she's feeling safer with the sirens getting closer. Or maybe she's finally realizing that it wasn't me.
The closer I get to her, though, the more she starts shrinking back into herself again, and then her eyes get a wild look to them.
All of a sudden, she launches herself at me, trying to attack me and claw at my shirt. She stumbles on some grass with her unsteady legs and falls to the ground, ripping my shirt on the way down and causing me to fall along with her. Then she's flailing around, freaking out and screaming, trying to hit me.
“Hey,” I struggle to say. “Hey, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you.”
I try to grab her arms again to settle her down, but she's too worked up and swings them at me like she did before. This time I'm able to get out of her reach before she scratches me again, and then I'm getting to my feet.
