It’s the cruel blinding light in her eyes that disturbs her. She rises up on one arm; the other arm shields the glare from her eyes. Confused, she tries to determine the shape but it’s smell rather than sight that informs her. The booze on his breath sends a chill through her and as she ascends through the mantle of sleep, she knows why he’s come.
"Thought you could hide from me, eh?” he sneers, tossing the torch down on the ground, causing his shadow to crawl up with wall. She attempts to escape, to scramble away but he lunges upon her, trapping her scream with his palm. She struggles but knows she can’t win. He’s too big, too frightening and the scene too familiar. This has happened before. His hand slides from her mouth as he pushes her back on the bed.
“Uncle Dave, please, no…” her voice croaks into the night. Her hands tremble under his merciless grip.
“Just co-operate, Cassie, just like you did last time. Be a good girl,”
She hears the disdain in his voice. Her heart is like a trapped bird in her chest - frantic, frenetic, ensnared. He presses her down and she struggles but still hears the zip of his fly, feels his fumbling grope but then in the half dark, she sees the cold flash of metal approaching his head, and hears the sound of a gun being cocked. “Get, the fuck off her,” someone says. He freezes, and then pisses his pants. She feels the warmth of his urine seeping between them. A welcome relief.
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