"You think you're better than me?" the man spat, towering over her with wild eyes. "Coming here dressed like that, acting all pure—you're just like the rest."
Rose's lip trembled as her hand touched her cheek. Her vision blurred. For a second, her thoughts spiraled. She didn't deserve this. No one did.
The streetlamp flickered again—once, twice—casting strange shadows on the wall behind her. Her breath was uneven, her mind screaming, Someone… please… anyone…
Her fingers curled into fists on the cold ground.
Would no one come?
Would no one see?
Was this really happening?
She tried to crawl back, her heels scraping against the concrete as the man stepped closer, his silhouette blocking the alley's only exit. He reached for her again—
"Don't touch me!" she sobbed, her voice finally cracking, raw and full of fear.
But he didn't stop.
His hand reached out again—rough, forceful, full of intent.
And something inside Rose snapped.
