Page 187 of Uprising

Only he doesn’t speak. He just stares at me, running his eyes over my body before fixing on the blade.

Footsteps echo behind me. I drop my focus on the man in front for a millisecond and someone behind me laughs.

“Did you come for another round?” The man in front taunts. “Drop the knife and we’ll all have some more fun.”

“Fuck you.” I spit raising it instantly, pointing it right at his face.

They both laugh. The one behind stepping closer, making this feel like this was all done as a set up. That they knew.

My heart rate turns erratic. Sweat starts to moisten my palm and it feels like the handle of the knife is suddenly so slick.

I’ve lost the element of surprise. I’ve probably lost this entire fight and I know it’s not going to end well but then, it never has for me, has it?

I charge, without hesitating. If I can gut one of them, kill one of them, just do something before I once again lose then maybe this might ease the incessant, continuous, all-consuming pain inside me.

Maybe it might make the voice in my head shut up.

Maybe, just maybe I might be able to look at myself in a mirror and not feel disgusted with what I see.

The man’s eyes widen. He makes a grab for my wrist and I knee him in the balls before jabbing wildly with the knife. The other man grabs me trying to pull me back but I’m manic now, feral. I lash out, I thrash in their arms, slicing the blade through the air not caring where I cut, where I hurt, just as long as I make contact.

And I do.

I feel the knife hitting something solid over and over. The handle no longer just wet with sweat but with blood.

One of the men fall. He collapses and I realise I’ve actually hurt him.

My heart leaps.

I can do this. I can kill them both.

The other man wraps his arms around me locking my body against his and as his smell washes over me I get a flashback, a memory so vivid I lose sense of myself.

I let out a whimper, trying to fight it but the trauma is overtaking me. I can’t focus. I can’t do anything.

“Stupid fucking whore.” The man spits swinging me around, throwing me forward.

My eyes widen as I see more men surrounding us. So thiswasa setup.

“Drop the blade or we fuck you with it.” One of them says.

I shake my head. I’m not that stupid.

“Little bitch wants another lesson.”

Every voice, every man here I look at makes a new vision echo in my head. One of pain. One of violation.

“It’s been a while Sofia.” One of them says stepping closer. “I’ll admit I missed your cunt but I missed the way you cried as I was fucking you more.”

I snarl, holding the blade out like my life depends upon it but I guess in a way it does.

They all start moving, closing in on me and I turn swinging the blade, trying to force them to keep away but I can’t hold five men off. I don’t stand a chance.

But just as that thought hits me I see more. They’re rushing in, only they’re not joining this sick soirée, they’ve got bats, wrenches and they’re attacking the men who seconds ago were all but attacking me.

I stare about, not understanding what the hell is going on and someone grabs me, trying to use me as some sort of human shield. I scream, I flail, instinct taking over as I bury the knife over and over and the man slumps releasing his grip while I’m covered in his blood.

He falls to the floor, blood now gurgling from his mouth but he’s not who I’m staring at. Not who I’ve got my attention on.