I was exposed. I felt exposed. I could feel the soft breeze knocking against my body. I was bare-skinned, my clothes tossed aside. I couldn’t do anything on my own. I was paralysed. I couldn’t move. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Luca’s body, wounded and torn beyond recognition. His limp dead body was shedding out the last drops of blood it had. My tormentors had killed Luca, my boyfriend, and were gearing to have me for a meal. Two of them played with Luca’s body. I could feel my tears trail down my face, the only movement I could do. I gazed up to see those bloodshot, greedy and lustful eyes look at me like I wasn’t human but rather his dinner. The bushes nearby were the only cover my body could have asked for. I closed my eyes, unable to scream in anguish and pain as the monster went into me. With all the stress, I could feel my lungs weakening with every thrust, my airway slowly collapsing and tightening to hold on to at least a fragment of air. My mucus-covered lungs were closing in within themselves and I was helpless. My airway tightened and I gasped for air with all the strength I had. The pain between my legs increasing I could feel liquid flowing between them. A red liquid that was mine. With my airway collapsing, and with the bleeding and the pain, my body collapsed. I blacked out.
“She will be alright.”
“She just needs a lung transplant.”
“Her mucous membrane down there has been torn.”
“Being a cystic fibrosis patient, recovery could take some time.”
“She can be saved.”
“She is awake.”