Never Let You Go
By Jonathan Busch

At dusk, outside the public library, Allison chatted with a boy she knew from one of her classes at school. Allison was a typical teenage girl...blonde hair down past her shoulders, shining blue eyes, and what seemed to be a perpetual smile. She clutched a couple of books to her chest as she chatted with the brown haired boy. They were little more than acquaintances, but it didn´t matter...Allison was friendly with everyone. It was an ordinary, pleasant scene.

What happened next was also all-too-ordinary, but hardly pleasant. A rusty old Dodge Colt drove by. The driver saw Allison, did a double take, and veered into the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt. Allison turned around, and her heart began to race. She turned back to the boy from school. "I need to go now." They parted, and Allison started toward the car.

The driver´s side door of the Colt opened, and Jeremy stepped out. He was athletic without being overly muscular, had tousled red hair, and stood a good 8 inches over Allison. He glared.

"Hi, honey!" Allison called, trying to stay calm. "What are you doing here?

" He grabbed her by the shoulder, tightly, and led her to the car. He threw open the door and glared at her again. The message was clear: get in. She climbed into the car, pushing some McDonalds wrappers off the seat and onto the floor. Jeremy jumped in next to her and, with a squeal of tires, drove off in the direction of his house. His eyes stayed straight ahead; he didn´t even turn his head to look at the girl beside him.

"How was your day, sweetie?" she asked. Greeted with silence, she tackled the issue she knew they´d have to confront eventually. "You don’t have to be worried about Mark, Jer. I barely know him. He was asking me about our lit homework."

Jeremy, still not looking in her direction, turned on the radio. Half-heartedly, Allison bobbed along with the music, trying unsuccessfully to lift the air of tension from the car. When they pulled into Jeremy´s driveway, she pursed her lips nervously; his mom wasn´t home. They would be alone.

"Where´s your mom, Jer?" she asked. Finally, Jeremy looked over at her, and the cold, appraising look in his eye sent a chill through her. "Jeremy, I want to go home.

" He ignored her and drove into the garage. He got out of the car, went over to her side, and threw open the door. Grabbing her by the hair, he pulled her from the car. She yelped in pain. "Jeremy! Stop! I want to go home! I want to---"

His open hand slapped against her cheek, silencing her. For a moment, the sound echoed through the garage...and then was followed by another slap: harder. Each slap carried with it a message, not verbalized but somehow contained in the sting of the blow...a message she had grown used to hearing. Slap. Whore! Slap. Slut! Slap. Worthless!

She was crying now. This seemed only to further enraged Jeremy. The open hands became fists, and one landed on her belly. She doubled over in pain, and Jeremy grabbed her hair again. He led her into the house and pushed her roughly backwards, against a wall. "I´m sorry, Jer! I didn´t want to talk to him, I---" He pushed her again, against a bookcase. "---I don´t even like him. He´s a jerk. I´ll never talk to him again---" Again, Jeremy shoved her roughly. "---I promise, Jer. Never again."

Jeremy balled his fist and hit her right under the chin. The room spun, and all went dark. ***

Allison was falling, spiraling through the black void of unconsciousness. At first, she was truly in the void; there was nothing around her. Then she began to make out sounds: herself, crying out in pain. She heard herself shouting to Jeremy, "Never again, Jer! Never again!" but her voice was different...older, somehow. Images appeared, and she saw herself, in her 30´s, repeating the same scenario over and over again. She saw a woman standing in front of the mirror, black eyed and bruised. As she watched, the eyes (HER eyes, she realized, but frighteningly dulled) became screaming mouths, and they both emitted piercing wails that filled her mind. And then, after what had been only a minute in real time, she woke up. ***

With a groan, Allison lifted her head from the floor. She saw Jeremy on the couch, flipping through channels. She unsteadily climbed to her feet and, once standing, took a moment to gather her resolve. She spoke in a quivering voice. "We´re done, Jeremy."

He ignored her. "I mean it, Jer.

"I won´t let you do this to me any more."

A wry smile passed over his face, but he said nothing. Allison shifted her weight uneasily, waiting for him to explode. "I´m going to leave now." She paused, still unconsciously waiting for permission."

Suddenly, Jeremy began to laugh. Not a chuckle, a hard, full, belly laugh. He rose from the couch and approached her.

Unable to flee, as if weighted down, Allison stood. Once again, he grabbed her by her hair...but she pulled back. Her scalp screamed in pain and she quickly followed Jeremy´s tug. He threw her onto the sofa and climbed on top of her. "Jeremy! STOP!" She screamed. He slapped her, hard, and she screamed again. She felt his hands on her blouse, felt them tugging. "STOP!" She could feel him fumbling with the buttons. "Jeremy! No! Get OFF me!" Frustrated with the buttons, Jeremy tugged, and pulled, and the blouse began to rip. "THIS IS RAPE, JEREMY! LET ME GO!"

To Allison´s horror, Jeremy smiled. She knew then she had to retreat, to go to the safe place in her mind, the place she went whenever he beat her...but then Jeremy slapped her again, and she came spiraling back to reality. There would be no escape from this.

Her blouse ripped completely, and Jeremy made quick work of her bra in the same manner. She screamed again, not words this time but a shrill, terrified wail. She felt him pawing her, violating her, and she desperately struggled to push him off of her. The size difference between the two, however, made such struggles futile.

Again, she tried to retreat into her mind...and, to some extent, succeeded. She was suddenly transported, and she was there...physically away from the evil being done to her. She was in the memories of their early days, when Jeremy had been a sweet boy. She remembered holding his hand, the poetry he had written her, the way she had felt so safe in his arms...before his dad had died. Before things...Jeremy...had changed.

Slap. Allison was thrust back into reality by Jeremy´s blow, and she groaned at being forcefully taken from her sanctuary. Jeremy´s pants were off now, and she could feel him forcing her legs apart. She quickly transported back to her safe place.

They were in the park at sunset.

They were watching a sappy movie that he had put up with for her.

He was bringing her flowers.

He was making a declaration of love, and promising never to harm her. There were tears in her eyes, but these were tears of happiness. "I love you too, Jeremy...and I believe you. I know you´d never hurt me."

She was back on the couch, but Jeremy appeared to be done. He was climbing off of her. Suddenly, with tears stinging her eyes, she roared a sound louder than she had known herself capable of making. "LIAR!" With a sudden, swift motion, she lashed out a foot and connected with Jeremy´s groin.

He collapsed, curling toward his injury. She got up and made for the door. She couldn´t stop to grab her clothes...no time. She threw open the door and ran outside. It was now night. She looked back one last time and saw Jeremy holding something: a knife. A horrible, wild look was on his face.

Her heart exploding in her chest, she burst away, running at full speed, a speed Jeremy couldn´t match...unless he got his car. She made a random turn at an intersection...then another, putting an impossible to follow trail between her and the monster she had once loved. Finally, out of breath, she stopped. She looked down; at least she still had her skirt on, lending her some form of modesty. She crossed her arms over her naked breasts, realizing suddenly that it was very cold, and she was very lost.

Suddenly, headlights appeared. Jeremy had found her. She burst into a run...but then heard a man´s voice, not Jeremy´s, calling to her. "Miss! Miss! I won´t hurt you! I want to help!"

She stopped, collapsed to the ground, and sobbed. The man helped her into his car. He was nice; he gave her his shirt to cover herself. He drove her home. He didn´t press her for answers when she made it clear she didn´t want to talk...but he did let her cry.

In a way, she had finally escaped from Jeremy that night, and steered the course of her life away from disaster. But in another, just as concrete way, Jeremy had made sure that he would be with her always.