Lucky Girl

I'm so bored." I said for the thirteenth time that day.

Robbie laughed. "You have a huge TV, 320 channels, a DVD Player and Tomb Raider. Not to mention...me. How can you be bored?"

"Its boring sitting here in bed. I want to go outside. And walk in the sunshine." I whined.

"Well you know you can't. You have to let your stitches heal. Especially the one in your intestine. You don't want those to pop do you?"

I was in a bad mood. I was sick of being babied and told what I couldn't do. I wasn't allowed to lift my arms above my head, which meant my mom had to bathe me. I could only eat soft foods, because of my intestine. I could only walk to the bathroom as long as I had help. No one would give me a mirror, so I had no idea how bad I looked. I assumed I looked like a nightmare, since I had been so badly beaten, but it had been two weeks and Robbie had told me that the bruises had almost faded. When Dr. Fielding came to check on me (a house call, I couldn't believe it) I had tried to look at my chest to see the cuts there but he was too quick for me to get a look.

"Well how about I grab a quick shower and then I will help you into the wheelchair and take you out to the patio? You can sit in the sunshine and listen to the birds." He suggested.

"Ok. Hurry up." I told him.

He gave me a quick kiss on the lips and went upstairs. He spent most nights sleeping with me, if not beside me on the bed, then on a chair in my room. I was head over heels in love with him. If I hadn't been before the attack, then I sure was after all the time we have spent together, talking, playing games and him showering me with affection.

I was still in a pissy mood even though I was looking forward to going outside. Why did I need a wheelchair to get to the patio? I could probably walk there by myself. I slowly got out of bed. I wasn't in much pain, but I was wary of pulling any of the stiches. I was wearing loose pyjama pants with a button up matching shirt, I decided to leave my robe on the bed and leave my slippers under the bed. Slowly walking out of my room, I didn't encounter anyone, Mom was out with Becky having lunch and Dad had flown home last week, Andy wasn't around today and I figured Tiny and Shortie were out front.

I knew the way to the patio, I had been wheeled there several times, so I headed that way. I was halfway there when I got tired. I needed a rest. Robbie was right I was too weak to go for a walk. I saw the door to one of the washrooms was open, there was a small chair in there so I went in and sat down. After a few moments I felt some strength returning, I was going to walk back to my room when I caught my reflection out of the corner of my eye. The washroom was L-shaped, the chair I had sat on was in the short part of the room. The mirror, toilet and sink were in the long part of the room. I stared at myself for the first time in 16 days. I didn't look the same at all. My nose was a little bit crooked, not too bad I could live with that, my lip had been split, I hadn't even realized that, but the scab was gone and I had a shiny pink scar running from the corner of my mouth onto the skin beside my mouth. I had yellow bruises all over my face. I looked like a horrible science experiment. I unbuttoned my top and opened it up. I had a huge bandage all over my chest and a second one on my abdomen. I started to pull the one off my stomach.

"Sabrina! What the fuck are you doing out of bed? Hey don't do that." I felt Robbie grab my hand and stop me from pulling.

"I want to see." I said.

"No not yet." He tried to pull me away from the mirror.

"I want to see." I repeated. After a few minutes of struggling, he finally relented. I pulled the bandage off my stomach. There were 16 stab wounds, I counted each one. They were small about an inch long, all over my stomach. I felt sick looking at them. They were shiny and pink too, I knew they would fade to white but I could never hide them.

"No more belly shirts for me." I muttered. I looked at Robbie in the mirror, he wasn't looking at my face, he was looking at my stomach. What was he thinking? I reached up and began to remove the bandage over my chest. Robbie didn't try to stop me and he didn't look away. I gasped when I saw my breasts. There were some of the small stab wounds but most of my breasts were covered with what can only be described as slashes. Long thick scabs with the stiches still visible, covered them. One went right across my areola, just missing the actual nipple. I stood there, I had never been a vain person but I felt like a monster looking at them. Who would ever want me with these scars? I looked at Robbie's face, it was so white, all the blood had drained from it, he must be so sickened by me.


Her stomach looked good, it was going to heal up nicely. Then she pulled the top one off, the first thing I thought was "Boobies" then I saw the cuts. Oh my god, how could someone do that? I had a feeling those cuts wouldn't heal into fine lines. But even though there were kind of scabby with suture threads hanging out I thought she looked beautiful She was so strong to survive this attack. I loved her personality, she was beautiful inside as well as outside. And even with the yellow bruises, the crooked nose and the scars, I still wanted her. I wanted her even more, since I had been spending almost every day with her. She caught me staring at her breasts, Jesus, what kind of pervert was I? The woman had just gone through the most terrible thing a woman can go through and I am leering at her? She started to do the buttons up, I could see tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Don't cry Sabrina. I'm sorry...." I started to say before she cut me off.

"Its okay Robbie. I understand. No Worries." She finished buttoning up her shirt. "I'm pretty tired now, I think I'll just go back to bed." She said heading for the door.

"Let me help you." I said taking her arm. She stiffened when I touched her. Now she thinks I am like that bastard who raped her. I couldn't blame her, she hadn't really spoken about it, other than to express pain. She didn't ever talk about the rape, at least not to me. Maybe she was talking to her mother. I helped her back to the bed and put the blankets over her, being careful not to touch her and upset her more. She closed her eyes and rolled over not facing me.

"Do you think we should put the bandages back on?" I asked her back. She just shrugged. I sat down on the chair and began to read my magazine again. Maybe I should find a therapist for her to talk to. I waited for her to fall asleep and then I left the room to call Dr. Fielding.

I pretended to sleep and as soon as Robbie left the room I started to cry with my face in the pillow. He was sickened by me. He couldn't even touch me. I couldn't blame him. I was disfigured. He was used to being with actresses and models who were perfect, not some carved up freak. I reached over and grabbed my painkillers. It was time for my next pill. I drank it down and laid back down. I started imagining what had happened to me. I couldn't remember anything but for some reason I wanted to know what was done to me.

Robbie came in so quickly I didn't have a chance to pretend I was sleeping. "Sabrina, Det. Albis just called. There's been another victim. She didn't make it."

I was stunned. Someone was dead. He killed her. She was just living her life like I was and he stole it away. And it could have been me. He meant for me to die. Left me to die after he hacked me up and raped me.

"He wanted you to know before you saw it on the news. The media is pressuring the police to give them details about you. But they won't tell them anything, they are protecting you." He said.

I reached for the remote control and turned on the news. They reporter didn't have any details, just that a female had been found in her apartment, stabbed to death. She was only 23. They showed police going in and out of the building. There was a neighbour talking to the reporter about the victim.

"She was really sweet, always volunteered at the animal shelter. She just got engaged last month." I didn't realize I was crying until Robbie pulled me into his arms and wiped my tears away.


"It should have been me." I whispered to myself.