All for Mr. Redman Chapter 7

** Thank you everyone for all your support, PMs, and comments over the course of this series. I am happy to get back to this series as it was my first. It has been a pleasure to share this and I have some people to thank here. These are not in any order:

Special thanks to:
Spread1, Shotgun82, Clitpleaser12, rdwyier, Feazko, kakatz, JetiJah, workingman, stillagood1, guilz87, thickhead, TT, Ghostrider939, BadInAGoodWay, Ed W, and doug1953

For all their advice, support, encouragement and humour. I am grateful to each of you for the time you have taken in reading my stories and giving me feedback.

And to all the writers of all the Unknown comments… thank you as well. It does mean something to get feedback and it is motivational to me. **

All for Mr. Redman Chapter 7

The final week of classes had come to an end. After exams I would be saying goodbye to my Junior Year. As anyone who had been there knows, exams are a high pressure time and sometimes the pressure builds to the point that someone snaps or does something absolutely stupid that they would never normally do.

I really wanted nothing more than to go to Peter’s, curl up in his strong arms, and just be at peace and try to forget it all. However, that sort of escapism was not going to change the situation and would’ve had me freaking out when I realized I had lost a night of studying.

Peter, being a High School teacher only had about another month of work. He did not sign up for, nor had he been asked, to teach during the summer. His seniority was working in his favour, and he wanted his summer vacation. I had been looking for summer employment as well, but was having a bitch of a time finding anything career related. I wanted to stay in the City, and that was kind of limiting, since I could have taken a Ministry contract and worked in northern Ontario. I was being selfish though, I wanted to stay close to Peter. His following me up there was not an option because I would have been staying in provided housing with others.

That evening I made the hardest phone call I could recall. I telephoned Peter to tell him I could not spend the weekend with him. He understood and tried to be supportive, but I could tell he was disappointed. I felt bad, but had to push that feeling away.

The next 10 days were going to be very busy for me. I was lucky in how my exams were timed. The lousy part was that was last one was not until the following Saturday at 10am. Fortunately, most landed in the afternoon so I would at least not have to get up in a rush and could better focus.

I studied and was working very hard. Amanda was out someplace and everything was going smoothly.

At 11:42pm there was a knock on the door. Why can I recall the exact time? Because I looked at my computer, swore, and got up to answer the door.

Since I was studying I had dressed comfortably. I had my MMA shorts on and a tight athletic sleeveless top, with no bra. My hair was in a ponytail and feet were bare.

I was still holding my pencil when I answered the door. I honestly expected it to be someone from the floor, not who was there. Opening the door I saw Jason. In a glance I knew he had been drinking. I think the biggest give away was the open bottle of Jack Daniels he was holding.

When he saw me he smiled and leaned on the door frame with his shoulder. “Hey Sachiko, whats up?”

I know I looked a little pissed off “What do you want?”

He held up the bottle and said “Why don’t you take a break.”

“Go home Jason” and I started closing the door. What he did next caught me completely by surprise. I mean the guy was an asshole, but I did not expect him to react like he did.

He threw his shoulder into the door and rammed it open hard before it was closed. The door hit me I was knocked flat by it, landing on my back. It also cut my right foot when it scraped there. He threw the bottle at me and it hit me in the head, not too solid, but a glancing blow. I was lucky. The JD spilled on me and he jumped on my chest and kicked the door shut with his foot.

I began to scream and he jammed his hand over my mouth, blocking my nostrils and my ability to breath through my mouth. Combined with the weight of him pressing down on my chest, I knew this was a bad situation. Plus I was trapped between the two beds with no real space to roll or break free.

His reach was a lot longer than mine. When I grabbed at his hand he dropped his elbow over my face, turning it to the side, and thumped his weight on me again, but not enough to do much. He changed his grip and grabbing my chest by the shirt, he lifted my body before slamming me back on the floor. My head bounced on the hard floor and I was seeing stars. I could not get air and he was going to win this fight. His larger size, weight, and strength and my bad position were all working against me.

He said quietly “Don’t you fucking scream.”

I didn’t need my head slammed off the floor again so I just laid there glaring at him.

“Fucking tease, you thought you could act like a cunt to me and get away with it? Fuck you bitch… in fact… that’s exactly what is going to happen here.” he snarled at me. I knew he would have to move me to get anywhere if he wanted to rape me, so I waited. I calmed myself, and he mistook that for compliance. He held my hands up above my head and trapping them in one of his hands and started pulling my top up with the other. He was still on top so I had to wait for a better opportunity.

He ran his hands over my tits and said “Fucking nice tits. You want this don’t you? You want it, I know it.”

I didn’t say anything, just laid there while that rotten fucker molested me.

The moment I waited for came. He pulled me up and forced me down over the bed. He started yanking at my shorts and I didn’t make it too easy. When he made the mistake of leaning his head to far forward I pushed back with with my hands and flung my head back. The back of my head hit him right on the nose. He screamed and I ducked and twisted. Good thing I did because he tried to punch me, but he missed.

Turned sideways I use a blade strike on the side of his neck and pushed back with my ass hard. He fell backwards, hitting his head on Amanda’s bed.

I jumped to my feet as fast as I could. I was screaming in anger at him, but I don’t know what exactly I said but I did use the word “Rapist.” That drew a lot of attention.

Grabbing my kettle I dumped the still hot, but not quite boiling water on his head. I used the kettle to hit him in the side of the head. I tossed it as the door to my room was opened.

I didn’t look to see who was there, I was so fucking angry. He was screaming and I didn’t care if he was burned. I grabbed his hair with both hands, planted my left foot forward, and struck him in the side of the head with a knee strike three times using my right knee.

Admittedly, I had completely loss control. I let his head go and stomped his knee as hard as I could more than once. He was way past resisting, but that bastard had violated me and I was going to kill him for it.

Multiple voices were screaming at me and a bunch of hands grabbed me and pulled me back. They dragged me out of the room into the hall. I was screaming at him in Japanese that I was going to kill him. Dimly and then louder I heard my name being said over and over as I was pulled into the hallway.

I turned and looked and screamed “WHAT!!!!”

Rachel, one of the girls from the next room had my shoulders and was looking at me “Jesus Sachiko! Calm down! It’s over! You kicked his ass! It’s over.”

I leaned back against the wall and looked down at my foot. It was bleeding all over the floor and you could see bloody footprints where I had been dragged.

She looked at it and said “Oh shit” and yelled for help. I could see that clearly the Police had been called. They were running up the hall toward us.

“Sit down, come on sit” and she pushed on my shoulders to get me on a chair some guy I didn’t know had brought over.

The Police ran into my room, because it didn’t sound all that much like it was over in there. Turns out that a pair of guys had decided that Jason had not received enough correction.

Things settled down and one of the Constables came over to me. I told him what happened and he said they were taking him. He was going to be charged with sexual assault causing bodily harm, apparently because my foot would need stitches. I can still recall his voice, it was soothing and sounded like Peter’s.

Two ambulances came. Jason was taken out first. The asshole flipped me the finger and called me a cunt as they were wheeling him out. The Constable barely managed to grab me before I threw the chair. I was seeing red again and really wanted to finish Jason off.

If nothing else the Constable later told me he admired my spirited nature.

This incident had a lot of fallout for myself and for Peter. It affected a lot of people.

I had to give the Police a statement and cooperate with their investigation. I did not resent that, they were doing their job and dedicated to getting it right. They did it exceedingly well actually as events played out later.

The lost time studying because of this, the anger, and the fight were exhausting. Not too mention I was mad at myself. The door has a peephole and a deadbolt for a reason and I would never have answered it if I knew it was him. To say I felt like a fucking idiot was an understatement. I also felt really dirty because Jason had his hands on my body. I was being tore up inside with shame for being so stupid. I was also frustrated as I felt Jason got off light and deserved so much more. Time has put that into it’s proper perspective.

My foot was cut bad and needed 9 stitches and that made getting around a bit of a challenge to say the least. It was also swollen.

Amanda totally freaked out when she got to the hospital. That is pretty draining, she was really pissed off. She and I talked about my feelings and it managed to make me feel a bit better and she was a champion for me. She had called Barbara and told her about it. Barbara was on a train coming back from Montreal and would not be back before I was discharged.

Peter was in tears when he heard what happened, then he got REALLY angry. It took both Amanda and I to calm him down. When he was relaxed again he said the best thing he could have at that time. “I love you so much.” and hugged me. He was so supportive, told me blaming myself was a normal reaction, and that when I had some time to think I would see how I had done nothing wrong. He even told me he was proud of me for beating up someone other than his cousin David. That made me laugh.

By the way, David chose not to come in the room. He was waiting outside to do anything Peter needed done. He also did not want to make me uncomfortable. To be honest, at first I would have been deeply embarrassed to see him after what happened, but later I would have been okay with it.

Last, but not least on the list of shit I had to deal with, the hospital called my parents.

Peter stayed with me, holding my hand and blocking the view, while my foot was stitched by the Doctor. I went for x-ray’s, prior to stitching, but can’t really say I remember much other than a dark room and a bubbly girl who kept moving my foot around.

The Doctor had just left, and I was pretty loopy on the medications they gave me for the pain. I was really out of it. Giggling was my favourite thing and telling Peter how amazing his eyes are. When I pointed them out to the nurse I know he was embarrassed. She laughed a lot while speaking to me and I recall I told her she was very beautiful. Without Peter there I think I would have made a serious ass of myself. Actually, I think I did that anyway.

The Police Constable dropped by, and left some information I needed with Peter, seeing that I was not really in condition for an intelligent discussion.

I was placed in a wheelchair and taken out to the hospital door by a Porter. He waited with me while Peter was coming with his car. The Porter had tattoos and for some reason I found that fascinating, can you say “High” boys and girls?

At the time I had no idea Amanda had left earlier, I thought she was with Peter. It turns out she had gone back to our room to make absolutely sure not trace of the attack was left.

Peter pulled up and had his doors open and that was when I heard my father’s voice yelling my name. I looked around and saw my family as they rounded the back of Peter’s car. My father demanded to know “What are you doing? Where do you think your going with MY daughter?”

I chirped up and started speaking Japanese to my family. Since I was still floating high on the drugs it was probably not the best way to tell them he was my boyfriend. In the three weeks I had been dating Peter I never mentioned him.

This is a problem because they wanted to know whenever I was dating, who I was dating, and the primary question they always asked was “Is he Japanese?”

Clearly my handsome Peter Redman was NOT Japanese.

I don’t recall much of that first meeting between them. I do remember that they loaded me in their car, not his, and took me home with them. With everything in my system I passed out in the car and slept.

The next day I woke up in my old bedroom. I sluggishly sat up and felt shooting pain from my foot when I moved it. Everything came flashing back as I yelped in pain. Memories of the entire incident hit me and I broke down crying.

My sister, Yumiko, heard me yelp and came rushing through my door as I was just starting to cry. She wrapped her arms around me and held me as I was sobbing. I felt my mother’s arms wrap around us and could see my father through my tears. We all had a rather emotional reunion.

After I calmed down my mother left to make food for me, and my father told my sister to leave the room.

My father sat down looking at me. I could see he felt terribly for me. I apologized to him for causing so much trouble and he just hugged me and said that was nonsense. We had a long talk about the attack and how it had all occurred. My father told me he was proud of me for not giving up and for fighting back. He hugged me again before lifting me in his arms and carrying me downstairs.

It was so weird being in the house again. It is a hard feeling to express. I felt I had grown and although this would always be the family home, it was not mine. I thought about Peter and how his home felt more natural to me.

Oh God Peter! It hit like a thunderbolt. They knew about him and we would be having a conversation about that very soon I was sure.

When I was seated with them it was like they were trying very hard to avoid that contentious subject. We talked about how I was feeling, which was better with the pain killer prescription having been filled for me. I chatted with them about their lives and we talked for a good hour before my mother finally jumped in with both feet.

“Who is Peter to you?” she asked.

The table went silent. My sister was looking down trying to avoid drawing attention. My father was looking right at me silently. My mother looked like she was ready for a very thorough discussion.

I took a breath and let it out slowly.