A Life Less Broken

“So what do
you guys think we should feast on this weekend?” We’re at the local steak house
and I look over my shoulder to make sure no one can hear us.

“I’ve got a
taste for brunette,” one of the guys says as he cracks a peanut out of its
shell and pops it into his mouth.

“We had
three brunettes in the past two weeks. Can’t we have something more exotic? I’d
like a sweet-smelling Asian cunt,” says our fearless leader.

I burst into
laughter. He loves the Asian girls. He told us once that there’s something
cathartic for him about watching their faces as their flesh rips open. He said
that the images of slashing them after he’s fucked them, calms him for a few
days and he can work better.

“What?” he
says as he looks over at me.

“You and the
Asians,” I laugh. “Always the Asians.”

“Fuck you,
cunt. You love ‘em too, so I wouldn’t go saying too much.”

I shake my
head and chuckle again. He’s right, though. I do like an Asian cunt, those
girls are fierce in the sack. They love it, they scream for more and more, I
know when I get the knife out and start playing they go absolutely wild for it.

Mmmm, yeah I
could go for an Asian pussy this weekend.

“Asian take-out?”
I ask as I palm myself as discreetly as I can under the table. I don’t want the
boys knowing that I got a hard-on thinking about slicing a girl this weekend while
she’s being fucked hard in the ass.
Oh yeah baby.

“We haven’t
had a strawberry blonde for a while.”

Hmmm, I
think back to the last lot of girls and there was that high school girl. She
was hot, and a virgin. The way she bled was just so damn beautiful.

“Hey,” one
of the boys says and snaps me out of my fantasy. “We’ve decided we want a
strawberry blonde, but not that flaming red hair. She’s gotta be small, with a
tight, tight ass.”

I nod my
head.

I know what
they want, I’ll find them the perfect girl.
Like always.

I take my
vial out of my jacket pocket and hold it in the palm of my closed fist as I
stand, “I’ll be back in a minute, I’ve got an appointment with my nose,” I say
as I tap it and start sniffing.

“That shit’s
gonna kill ya,” one of the boys says.

“Not in this
lifetime.”

I walk to
the bathroom and start to think where I’m going to find the strawberry blonde
they want.

I’m sure
I’ll find something around the shopping center. I’ll just have to watch and
wait.

***Warning – contains distressing
content***

Prologue

Why I am the way I am

“Police
have identified the body found buried in a shallow grave as sixteen-year-old
Trisha Mackenzie. Trisha went missing six days ago while walking home from
school. The coroner has yet to confirm the cause of death; however, there are unconfirmed
reports that Trisha suffered tremendous and horrific abuse…”

My cell phone
rings and I silence the radio so I can answer it.

“Hello?” I
notice it’s a private number.

“Allyn, I
can’t come in today.”

“What do you
mean you can’t come in to work today?” I ask Jolene whose coughing and
spluttering on the other end of the phone.

“Can’t you
hear how sick I am, Allyn? I gotta go,” she says as I hear her begin to retch.

She hangs up
and I stare at the cell phone in my hand. Fuck, Thursdays are always busy in
the clothing store and I know I’m going to get hammered today.

I call Jason,
the owner, to see if he can find a replacement for Jolene. Maybe I can borrow someone
from one of his other stores. I’ve had three girls out sick this week, which
leaves only me to work both shifts today.

I speed dial
Jason’s number. I hate talking to him; he seems angry all the time. I let it
ring and pray my call goes to voice mail. But he picks up on the fourth ring
and sounds pissed off.

“Don’t tell
me you’re sick too?” he spits into the phone, angrier than usual.

“No I’m not,
but Jolene called in sick, and that leaves just me in the shop today. Can you
get another girl to come in and help, please? We’re usually so busy on
Thursdays.”

“I’ll see
what I can do, but this virus is sweeping through all my stores. Go in, open up
and if I can’t get help, I’ll come in by about lunchtime.”

“Okay, I can
handle it for a few hours. See you soon, Jason.” He doesn’t say anything else,
he disconnects the call and I go to finish getting ready for my shift.

I catch the
8:05 a.m. bus that drops me directly in front of the store. It’s on the outside
edge of the local shopping center, down the side and to the back a little, and
even though it’s out of the way, it still gets a fair bit of traffic.

When I get
to the store, I squat down and unlock the front roller door, then the glass door
before going in and turning the alarm off. I temporarily lock the front door
from the inside so I can get the float ready and run the morning reports I need
before I’m due to open at 9:00 a.m.

I look
outside from the counter as I’m double checking the float, and notice the
clouds have closed in quickly as the sky is dark and looks eerily threatening.

I get a
small, uneasy feeling in my stomach and a frisson of electricity shoots up my
spine as I look around to see if there’s someone watching me. My body is
covered in goose bumps and a huge lump sits in my throat.

There’s
something off today, something that’s not quite right. It’s almost as if a
sixth sense is telling me to look over my shoulder, and to be wary.

I clip the store’s
small personal alarm onto my jeans pocket and know if something happens, I only
need to press it and a distress signal will go to the alarm company monitoring the
store.

As I unlock the
door to open the store for business, I take a cautious look around me to see if
there’s something that draws my attention. But I don’t see anything other than
the normal foot traffic and people walking around, minding their own business.

By
lunchtime, I’m totally inundated with customers. A few racks of new clothing
have come in, now sitting in the store room waiting for me until I get a moment
to organize them.

The store
phone rings just after 12:30 p.m., and even though I’m behind the counter
helping a customer, I know I need to answer it.

“Excuse me
please,” I politely say to the customer, and reach to grab the persistently ringing
phone.

“Of course.”
She smiles at me and I answer it.

“Rose’s
Fashions, Allyn speaking. How may I help you?”

“Allyn, it doesn’t
look like I’ll make it ‘til closer to four, I’m swamped and there’s no way I
can get there,” Jason says gruffly.

Shit. I’m
going to have to just keep going on my own.

“Alright, as
soon as you can would be great.”

“I’ll try
and get there sooner, but you’d better not plan on me getting there before four.”

“See you
soon.”

I hang up
and return to the customers in the store. The day is a complete whirlwind. I
haven’t stopped from the moment I got here. Customer upon customer, delivery
after delivery, and phone calls that don’t stop.

By 3 p.m.,
the shop finally clears and I get a chance to catch my breath and just sit for
a moment. I get my sandwich and juice from the fridge in the staff break room
and sit behind the counter to eat my lunch.

As I eat, I
pay particular attention to the rapidly building gray clouds and notice that
the darkness of the morning never really subsided. We didn’t get rain or wind
yet, but it’s been an unrelentingly gloomy, dreary day. I feel as if I’m waiting
for some unstable, dangerous force to make itself known.

That feeling
of foreboding I had earlier is started to creep over me again, and little by
little it’s gotten stronger.

The tingle
at the back of my neck returns, like millions of tiny sparks flying to touch
every nerve ending in my body.

My mouth is
suddenly dry and it’s difficult to swallow.

My heart suddenly
thrums at a pace that could rival a healthy hummingbird.

Something is
definitely off, but I don’t know what. I look at the time on the computer and
see it’s 3:20 p.m. Only forty more minutes and Jason will be here. I’ll feel
safer when he’s here with me, but right now, I feel like something awful is
going to happen.

Lost amid my
thoughts of warnings and fear, the bell over the door startles me and a really
cute guy walks in. He eyes me, and for a moment I give him a cute, flirty
smile. I put my sandwich down and stand to go to him.

“Hi there, I’m
Allyn. Can I help you?” I ask. Damn, he really is cute, maybe twenty-three or
twenty-four. He’s tall, with dark brown hair that’s a little shaggy, a strong,
chiseled chin and gorgeously dark, almost black eyes. His eyes are so dark that
they’re captivating. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such intensity before.
They’re slightly bloodshot, but even so, he’s really quite a good-looking man.

“My
girlfriend sent me in to buy a dress she saw at one of your other stores.
Apparently it’s new, just came in today. But the store she went to didn’t have
her size.”

“I just got in
some new stock. If you know which dress and what size she needs, I can go take a
look.”

“That’ll put
me in her good books if you can. Um, she said it was blue and fitted over one
shoulder with a strap thing that goes around her waist. She said she’s a size
ten.” He looks at me like he has no idea.

I chuckle to
myself and shake my head. “I’ll go out the back and look, give me a minute. I
haven’t had a chance to look at the new colors or styles yet.”

“Sure, take
your time.”

I leave him
and check that the till is locked before I go into the store room, which is next
to the staff break room. I open the door and look through the racks quickly but
can’t see any blue dresses matching his description.

I don’t get
a chance to leave the room.

I hear them.

I don’t see
them.

A cold and
terrifying panic envelops me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

All my
earlier feelings of dread are magnified.

I try to scream,
but something covers my face.

And I’m out.

“Roll the bitch
over,” a deep gravelly voice says.

My body
hurts. My head is aching. I feel sick.

I try to open
my eyes to see where I am, and when I do I get punched in the face repeatedly.
I feel something crack and when I try to scream I’ve got something stuffed in my
mouth so my voice is muted.

I can’t see
them because I can’t properly focus. They’re faceless. There’s no feature I can
focus on. I’m so groggy and I just can’t make out their faces.

One of them
pulls my bottom cheeks apart and holds me open.

And another
one savagely tears into me.

Blood drips
into my eye, stopping the little vision I have.

I try to
fight, but my legs are tied open and my arms are roped to two posts above my
head.

They’re
laughing as they’re raping me.

I try to scream
again, but only a muffled, desperate sound comes out of me.

“Shut that
cunt up, will ya, Mick,” the first voice grates. I notice a distinct twang in
his voice, almost like a country singer. He rolls the N in his word, his tongue
stays connected with the roof of his mouth for just a moment too long.

I struggle to
move as much as I can, until a punch to my head sends me to a painless place.

Black.

I try to blink
my eyes open, but I can’t see. Everything hurts, even my eyelids. I can’t open them
more than a tiny slit.

I’m lying
face down, and it’s so cold.

I try to move
my head, but I can’t. It’s being restrained by something. My arms, too. Nothing
is moving. I feel completely weighed down, immobile.
Unprotected.

I can’t see.
I can’t move.

I can’t
.

Where am I?

It’s black.

I try to blink.

Why am I
lying on grass? Why am I wet? Is there water around me?

I don’t know
where I am.

“Help.” My
voice is tiny, hoarse. I can’t even hear me.

I try to move
but can’t. It’s hopeless. I can’t even feel anymore.

“Help.”
Nothing more than a small sigh escapes past my lips.

Am I dead?
Is this hell?

“Fuck me,
it’s a woman! Call 911!”