Stolen Girl (18 page)

Zeb got to his feet and stood in front of me. His body towered over mine and I suddenly felt very small. My body trembled when I saw the hateful look in his eyes.

‘You must do as I say,’ he said, grabbing my arm roughly.

‘No,’ I replied. I heard my voice crumble and weaken. ‘I won’t do it, not anymore and you can’t make me.’

Zeb’s eyes flashed with anger. A bolt of terror shot through my body as I felt the thud-thud of my heart.

‘Ah, but you’re wrong because I
can
make you do these things for me and I
will
.’

I looked over at the others to say something but they didn’t. Instead they sat there, mute.

‘You’re forgetting something, Katie. I know where you live…’ Zeb continued, ‘…and who your mother is.’

‘I’ll go and see her. I’ll rape her and make you watch while I do it.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ I challenged. But I believed every word – he said he’d do anything to get what he wanted.

‘Try me,’ he hissed.

For a moment the room was silent. All I could hear was my own breath. I gasped for air to try and calm my pounding heart.

Someone laughed and broke the silence and the room returned to normal. I thought about Mum. If I didn’t do as he asked, Zeb was sure to hurt her. I was determined they wouldn’t ruin her life as they had mine.

Instead I reached to the coffee table for my glass and gulped
down the rest of my drink. Alcohol was good – it numbed the pain and blocked things off.

I faced Zeb and as I did, I felt another tug from behind and felt something slide down between my legs. I looked down in horror to see my knickers on the floor between my feet.

Jad punched the air jubilantly as if he’d just scored a goal and the others cheered.

Hot and humiliated, I dipped down and pulled up my pants. They continued to cheer and wolf whistle me and I felt dirty and used.

‘Here,’ Zeb said in a gentle voice.

He held out his arms and I ran to him so that he would cover me up. I shut my eyes to block them all out. I felt safe in Zeb’s warm embrace. He was in charge – if anyone could protect me, it’d be him. But seconds later, he pushed me roughly back into the centre of the room. Then he started to undo his jeans.

‘Give me a blow job,’ he demanded.

‘But…I…’ I gestured with my eyes to the others sitting there. They were watching my every move but Zeb didn’t care.

‘Give me a blow job,’ he shouted. ‘Give me one NOW!’

I shut my eyes so I wouldn’t see them. Instead I allowed a numbness to wash over me as I knelt down and did exactly as Zeb had asked.

A few minutes later, Zeb pulled away from me.

I was handed another drink. It tasted of Coke and something else – probably vodka, I couldn’t tell. The alcohol slid down the back of my throat and I gulped at it greedily. Then I was given another and another.

The room started to spin again. I flopped onto the sofa to make it keep still but it wouldn’t stop turning.

‘Stand up, Katie.’ I heard a voice – it was Zeb’s.

He was trying to pull me back to my feet but my head was woozy and my body felt as heavy as lead. Suddenly, my knees gave way and I crashed down hard onto the floor. Hands reached out, pulling and lifting me back to my feet again. Somehow, with someone pulling and someone pushing from behind, I managed to climb the stairs. When I came round, I realised I was lying on the bed in the top bedroom. Zeb, Aban and Jad were standing next to me in a line. I felt disorientated and confused. Zeb’s voice broke through the fog in my head.

‘You have to give us all blow jobs,’ he ordered.

But I felt sick; the room was spinning and I wanted it to stop.

‘I
can’t
!’ I begged.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed me around the back of my head and forced my face downwards. It was Zeb. He would make me do this whether I wanted to or not. After a few moments, he pulled my head away and forced it onto Aban and then Jad. This sick sexual merry-go-round continued as I was forced to perform oral sex on each and every one of them.

Zeb threw me back and wearily I flopped down onto the bed. My head was throbbing. Bile rose up from my stomach into my throat until I could contain it no longer. I threw up all over the filthy mattress whilst they stood and watched. Thinking my ordeal was over I vomited a second time. I shut my eyes, my mind closed down and everything went black. I don’t know how long I was unconscious but when I woke up, I was in Zeb’s arms. He held me tenderly as though he really cared.

‘Katie, can you hear me? I’m so sorry.’ It was Zeb’s voice. Even in my dazed state I thought how odd it was to hear him say the word ‘sorry’. Yet he said it again and again.

I tried to move my legs but couldn’t feel them – I began to panic.

‘Pleassse helpppp meeee!’ I begged. My voice sounded alien as the words slurred out from my mouth. My head was spinning out of control but my body felt as dead as a lump of wood.

‘I can’t move my legs – there’s something wrong,’ I cried.

I saw Jad panic. He ran off downstairs to fetch me a bottle of water. Moments later, he reappeared and Zeb snatched the bottle from him. Holding back my head, Zeb poured the water straight down my throat. My whole body convulsed as I started to choke. Water spluttered everywhere as I coughed and gasped for breath. I thought Zeb would go mad but he just stared – his eyes were full of concern.

I was confused but I sensed a rising panic in the room. My mind drifted in and out as voices blurred and they spoke in echoes. My jumbled mind struggled as it tried to process what they were saying.

Jad was speaking too quickly; I opened my eyes and saw his arms flailing about. He looked anxious and was arguing with Zeb.

‘She needs to go to hospital – we’ve got to get her there quick,’ he insisted. Zeb refused.

‘Don’t be stupid; we can’t take her! If we do then they’ll know what we’ve been doing.’

I wondered what he meant but my mind shut down. I needed to rest, to sleep. I needed to switch off. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I recalled the blow jobs and shuddered. I tried to move again but my legs felt heavy and totally unconnected to my body.

Zeb continued to cradle me in his arms. He told me how much he loved me. I wanted to believe him, but why did I feel so dead?

Eventually, I felt coldness set in against my skin and the numbness wore off. My body felt stiff and broken. I knew I was in Zeb’s arms and assumed I was still on the bed but then I realised that I was actually on the floor. As feeling flooded back into my body I moved my legs but an unexpected pain ripped through me. It was so intense that it stole my breath away. I glanced down and saw that I was completely naked. I moved my legs a second time but the excruciating pain shot through me once more. As I looked down I realised the soreness was coming from between my legs.

My eyes darted to the side. I spotted my G-string on the floor. They must have ripped my knickers off again when I passed out. Although my head was woozy, I slowly pieced things back together. I looked across the room. There was no one else in there now, only me and Zeb.

‘Where am I?’ I asked him.

‘I’m sorry, Katie, I’m so sorry,’ he said over and over.

‘I’ll look after you, I promise,’ he told me. His voice was different – he sounded frightened. I’d never heard Zeb sound frightened before.

Wrapping his arms around me, he lifted me back onto the bed. He walked away to the corner of the room. When he got closer to me I saw he was holding something in his hands – my clothes. I was confused because I knew he’d undressed me downstairs.

I tried to get dressed but something was wrong, the pain was too intense. I felt raw and burnt down below, as though someone had scalded me internally. Eventually I managed, with Zeb’s help, to pull on my clothes. He helped me to my feet as gingerly I placed one foot in front of the other. But the pain was severe and I winced with every step I took. Gently, Zeb led
me back downstairs. I was puzzled; why was he being so nice? It didn’t make sense.

When I finally reached the last step and turned into the living room I suddenly understood: the room was full of men. There were at least five others I’d never seen before. I looked up at them but no one would look at me. As soon as I entered the room they stopped talking. Apart from Zeb, Aban and Jad, I’d never met any of them before.

‘Who are they?’ I asked Zeb, my body shaky and unstable.

But Zeb wouldn’t answer. Instead, one by one, the men left until there was only me, Zeb, Aban and Jad. But still no one spoke. It made me feel worse, as though something awful had just happened.

Suddenly, Zeb broke the silence.

‘Aban will take you home now, Katie. You need to go home and rest, do you hear me?’

I nodded but my body felt broken. And then it dawned on me: I was sore, battered and bruised because all those men had just had sex with me. I’d been a gang-raped. I’d passed out but I wasn’t stupid; they’d violated me whilst I’d been unconscious. They’d done this to me.

I suddenly thought of the sofa in the bedroom. When you sat down on it you had a full view of the double bed – it was almost like a viewing platform. I wondered if these men had sat there, one by one, to watch events unfolding like some sick and perverted sex show. I hadn’t consented to any of this; not even through fear. I’d passed out on the bed and I’d been raped, probably by all of them. My whole body shuddered with revulsion and I felt the bile rise and burn inside my throat once more.

As the car sped away I looked out of the back window and
stared into the darkness. Now my soul felt as black as the night. I’d been poisoned by Zeb – he was evil, a monster. I was his property and I’d never escape him, not ever. This was my life now – it was all I knew.

‘
A
re you okay?’ Mum asked. It had been a few months since I’d been gang raped and it had left me feeling sick and rotten inside.

I was still seeing Zeb and although I never saw the strange men from that night again, he was still making me have sex with different people even when I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel like a person anymore – I was just a sex toy. I was there to be used and abused by him and his acquaintances. I wasn’t Katie anymore, I was just an object –
his
object. Every part of me, from my head to my toes, was there for his pleasure. My mouth was there to perform blow jobs, my breasts were there to be groped, and down below was there for him or whoever he ‘gave’ me to, to enjoy. My body wasn’t my own anymore – it belonged to Zeb and he made me feel disgusting. I didn’t feel like a human being. He controlled me now; he was the boss.

I cut myself more and more. It was the only thing I had control of as every other aspect of my life slowly spiralled out
of control. Part of me hoped that one day I’d even manage to sever through a main artery – at least then it’d all be over and I wouldn’t have to face Zeb again. I hoped I’d have the guts to slice right through my lifeline, to end it all with one last cry for help. I dreamed about it constantly; I’d lay there and watch the blood gush from my body, my life ebbing away in a flood of pain. I was still only fifteen years old it but felt as if my life was already over – I wanted to die.

Mum was still watching, eyeing me cautiously from the other end of the kitchen. I knew I looked pale and puffy – my eyes were swollen through lack of sleep and too much alcohol. I was struggling to cope in more ways than one. I constantly felt hungover and wretched; I was dirty, both inside and out. Some days I felt so bad that I thought my skin would crawl clean off my body.

‘You don’t look right; you look a bit pale to me,’ she insisted, pressing a cool hand against my forehead. ‘You definitely look a bit peaky.’

‘I’m fine,’ I lied, shrugging her away. I wanted to tell her about the men, about the secret house, the drugs, the alcohol, and the sex. The sex. My stomach flipped at the thought of it. How could I tell her? She’d be disgusted with me. She’d call me a dirty little slag and she’d be right. Maybe that’s all I was now? Maybe I deserved this? Deep down I somehow knew I was being ridiculous but that’s how Zeb made me feel – worthless.

No, I reasoned. I’d be fine as long as I did everything Zeb said. But the truth was I wasn’t fine. Mum was right, I was sick – something was wrong. Normally the smell of her cooking would make my mouth water but now it made me want to vomit. Sometimes even a cup of tea was enough to set me off; I couldn’t help it. Maybe this was my punishment
for doing all these things. Maybe I was now so disgusting that I repulsed myself.

Mum was still watching me. She didn’t look convinced that I was okay.

‘Okay. But you’ll tell me if you don’t feel well, won’t you?’ she insisted.

I nodded weakly.

‘Good girl,’ she said.

I got up from where I was sitting, and wandered back upstairs to my bedroom. My heart sank at the thought of the day ahead. I knew that as soon as I left school, Zeb would be waiting. The thought of him made my heart race and my palms sweat. He was a dangerous man. I was certain he had bigger plans for me; I just didn’t know what they were yet.

When my mobile buzzed later that day, it took all the strength I had to answer it. I forced my voice so it sounded bright and breezy, I didn’t want to annoy him.

‘Meet me in an hour. Usual place,’ he said. The phone clicked off and he’d gone.

By now I was having sex with different men almost every night of the week. They were usually friends of Zeb’s, and he told me it was alright. I had sex with Hakim and gave him blow jobs. I also had sex a few times with Habis and Jad. Jad asked me to meet him on my own but I was worried there might be another secret house, so I refused. He was pissed off but I knew my body couldn’t cope with much more. At least with Zeb in charge he wouldn’t force me to have sex with anyone he didn’t trust.

Even so, I was still frightened of Zeb – too frightened not to go along with his plans. If I said no, he’d hurt me for sure.

That night I travelled to the secret house in Aban’s car. There was the usual blur of men’s faces waiting as the front door closed behind me. I gulped down the vodka and Coke that Zeb handed to me. Alcohol was good, it was my medicine – it numbed my body and mind. The hash helped too. It blocked things out. As long as I got smashed on dope everything would be okay. I wouldn’t be able to feel it and, if I drank enough booze, I’d get blanks in my memory and wouldn’t be able to fill things in later on.

As the night progressed, I performed oral sex on several different men and lay down on the old stained mattress whilst they each took it in turns to have sex with me. By now I knew that mattress so well; every inch of the fabric, every stain was etched into my mind like a familiar old pattern.

I tried not to think too much about things. Zeb insisted he was my real boyfriend and that he’d take care of me. This was normal, he told me. He said that you did things you didn’t want to do – you made sacrifices for the one you loved. Deep down, I knew I didn’t love Zeb: I was frightened of him. That wasn’t love, it was fear. But it was also my life. I didn’t like it, but it was all I knew. I’d just have to get used to it – I’d have to learn to like it because I couldn’t bear to think of the consequences if I dared to say no.

My mind was so fuzzy with spliffs and booze that I’d not noticed my period was late. I hadn’t had one at all for quite a while. Normally, they were as regular as clockwork but I’d had nothing, no pain. Instead I’d felt odd and constantly sick.

Oh my God!
I suddenly shuddered. I knew it could mean only one thing.

That afternoon, I walked to a chemist’s shop at the other end of town. The woman spotted me from behind the counter as
soon as I pushed open the door and I felt her eyes on me as I wandered over to a stack of shelves in the middle of the shop.

My eyes darted around me. There was an old woman in the corner talking to the pharmacist about her various ailments. I didn’t know her. There was another woman soothing a crying baby in her arms. She looked as though she was waiting to speak to the pharmacist too. Her eyes rolled impatiently and she glanced at her watch. She was annoyed – the old lady was taking too long and the baby was fractious. I didn’t know either of them. I sighed with relief.

‘Can I help you?’ a voice called.

It was the assistant behind the counter. The woman with the baby looked up and I felt my face flush.

‘Um, no, I’m just looking,’ I mumbled. I pretended to walk around the display, looking for something that didn’t exist. Anything other than what I’d really gone there for. But it was no good: I had to do this – I
had
to know.

I walked back to the other side of the display and glanced at the prices. There was one for 99p – a bargain. It looked pretty basic but at least I could afford it. The others were way out of my league. Grabbing the cheap pregnancy test kit, I made for the counter and handed it to the woman with some money. I tried not to look at her but I could feel her staring – her eyes burning into me. She knew I was too young to be buying a pregnancy test kit.

She popped it inside a paper bag and handed it to me with my change and a till receipt. The receipt said exactly what I’d bought. I screwed it up into a ball in my hand and threw it in the nearest bin outside.

Back at home I locked myself in the bathroom, pulled it from the packet and quickly read the instructions. One line for
‘not pregnant’, two for ‘pregnant’. I prayed for just the one. The blue stripe appeared almost immediately. I sighed with relief – I was in the clear. I heard Phil pottering around downstairs so I tucked the pregnancy wand up my sleeve and headed back to my bedroom. But a few minutes later, a second line began to appear. Frantically, I read the instructions again but they shook in my hands. I burst into tears. What the hell was I going to do? Suddenly, there was a knock at my bedroom door; it was Phil.

‘Katie? I need to come in. The boiler’s not working and I need to have a look at it.’

I ran to the door and grabbed at the handle – I had to stop him coming in.

‘But you
can’t
,’ I gasped.

I shoved my whole body weight against the door to buy myself more time. I glanced across the room and then at the pregnancy wand in my hand – I didn’t even have time to hide it.

‘Katie, open the door NOW!’ Phil shouted. He sounded annoyed. ‘I need to fix the boiler.’

I felt my heart stop; I had no choice. I opened the door and began to cry.

‘Phil, I’ve just done a pregnancy test. I’m pregnant!’

He reeled back in horror and steadied himself against the wall.

‘
What
?’ he exclaimed. Then he began to laugh as if it was a joke. His laughter made me weep more and soon he realised I wasn’t joking; this was real.

‘I’m pregnant,’ I said, repeating the words.

Phil ran his fingers through his hair as if he needed time to think. He knew he’d have to tell Mum.

‘Oh my God, Katie!’ he gasped.

But I couldn’t speak. My secret was out and there was nothing I could do.

Later that night, Phil told Mum. I heard her cry downstairs and it made me feel even worse. I picked up my mobile and dialled a number.

‘Dean,’ I said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

Dean heard the word and began to panic.

‘But I’m too young to be a dad. We can’t have this baby, Katie – we’re too young.’

At first I didn’t think about what he was saying and then I realised; he thought the baby was his. Suddenly, it dawned on me: this could be my escape route. If he thought it then Mum would too and my secret would be safe and they wouldn’t have to know about Zeb or the others.

Mum came up to my bedroom to speak to me. Her face was stained with tears and she looked crushed with disappointment.

‘You and Dean,’ she began. ‘You’re too young to be parents – you have your whole lives ahead of you.’

Inwardly, I sighed. She thought the baby was Dean’s too. I hadn’t lied to either of them, they’d just assumed it. If they wanted to believe it then I’d let them.

Hours later there was a knock at the door: it was Dean. Mum showed him in, but she didn’t say much. The atmosphere was stiff and awkward.

‘She’s in her room,’ I heard her say.

Dean came up to my bedroom but I could barely look at him for all the guilt I felt inside. He sat down on the bed next to me.

‘We can’t have this baby, Katie. We’re too young…’ he began. I looked at him but my guilty expression gave me away. I couldn’t
do this anymore. I couldn’t lie to Dean, he didn’t deserve it. It took a moment for the penny to drop but suddenly his face changed. He stood up and backed away from me in horror.

‘It
is
my baby, isn’t it?’

I shrugged my shoulders. I thought of all the men I’d had sex with; how many had used protection and how many hadn’t.

‘It could be yours or up to eight different men,’ I replied coldly.

Dean reeled back as though I’d just smacked him in the face. He looked mortified.

‘I
knew
it!’ he said. ‘I
knew
you were cheating on me!’

I didn’t have to see his eyes to know that he was disgusted – I could hear it in his voice.

‘I…I didn’t, it’s just that…’ I said, suddenly searching for the right words.

‘But you must have, Katie! You must’ve cheated on me – I can’t believe it!’

He was pacing around the room, trying to take it all in. Suddenly, he shot me one last look of disgust and headed for the door. I heard it slam behind him as he ran downstairs and out into the street. I’d almost told him everything, but I’d managed to stop myself.

That evening, when Zeb called me I ignored my phone. I didn’t want to talk to him or anyone else; I just wanted to be alone. For a split second I thought about ringing up Lauren, but what would I tell her? She’d want to know who the father was and what would I say? I didn’t even know myself; as I’d told Dean, it could be one of many men.

The following day, Mum had the same old conversation with me about being too young to raise a child. By now her tears had turned to anger.

‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled.

Mum tutted and placed her hands flat on the kitchen table.

‘It’s too late for sorry, Katie,’ she said, her voice tight and stiff. ‘You’re not keeping it and you can tell Dean that I said so.’

I chose not to correct her. If she still thought this baby was Dean’s then I’d let her.

‘But I want to keep it! It’s not the baby’s fault – it didn’t ask to be born,’ I wailed.

I couldn’t help it. Overnight I’d become attached to the life growing inside me. Until now my life had been sad and empty, but this baby might be my chance to turn things around. Maybe it was meant to be.

‘I just want to love and protect it,’ I sobbed.

Mum sighed heavily and took my hand in hers.

‘Look, Katie, how would you support it? You’re too young – it would take over your life. You wouldn’t be able to provide for it,’ she said, her voice softening.

Her anger, like her tears, began to subside as she tried her best to help me work things out.

‘What about if I have the baby and put it up for adoption?’ I suggested, the idea popping into my head.

Mum shook her head.

‘Katie, it would be even harder for you to give birth to a baby and hand it over – that would crucify you for the rest of your life. It would haunt you. You need to get rid of this baby and you need to do it sooner, rather than later. The longer you leave it, the harder it’ll get.’

I knew that Mum was only saying these things because she was looking out for me but I wondered how much joy a baby would bring to my life. Of course, I knew I’d have to tell them
about Dean not being the father. They’d be able to tell anyway, by the colour of the baby’s skin.

‘I’m not getting rid of it,’ I decided, getting to my feet. ‘This is a life growing inside me and it doesn’t have anyone but me to look after it. You can’t ask me to kill it.’