I’ve finally been promoted! I’ve waited so long for this. I worked hard, tirelessly, and now—victory! These things don’t happen often, so my best friend and roommate, Lydia, and I decided to celebrate at our favorite bar.
No sooner said than done! We dressed up and headed out for some fun. The bar’s neon sign flickered invitingly, and the place was packed, so Lydia and I settled on high stools at the counter. The bartender quickly whipped up some delicious cocktails. Perfection! What more could you want?
We were chatting away about our girl talk when my attention was drawn to a guy who had just walked in. He looked familiar…
— Anna, why are you staring at that cute brunette?
— You know, I think he studied at our university, in a parallel program.
At that moment, the guy glanced at me and immediately headed our way.
— Hey! Don’t we know each other?
— I think so. Didn’t you study at the Civil Engineering Institute?
— Yes! In the Water Supply Department.
— And I was in Architecture!
— What a reunion!
Alexander joined us, and we instantly dove into reminiscing.
— Listen, ladies, my friends are inviting you to a club nearby. They’ve already reserved a table. So, want to come?
— Absolutely! With pleasure!
— Oh, I’ll pass, — Lydia yawned dramatically. — I’m suddenly feeling sleepy. But you two go, have fun, — she gave me a knowing wink. Good old Lydia—she quickly realized I liked Alexander and gave us a chance to be alone.
The club was crowded, but Alexander easily found his friends. He introduced us, then wasted no time asking me to dance.
— Want something to drink?
— Maybe a beer.
Five minutes later, he returned with two frosty glasses. I took a sip of the ice-cold drink, and… that was the last thing I remembered that night. Then—darkness.
A foul smell woke me. Struggling to open my eyes, I tried to figure out where I was. I looked around. It seemed like a stairwell. That explained the stench of cats! Sitting up, I checked what I was lying on. A filthy, spit-covered floor. My skirt was crumpled in a corner, my purse was gone, and my underwear was missing too. My head spun, I felt nauseous, and my mouth was dry. “What happened?” I thought sluggishly, inspecting myself. I saw blood on the inside of my thigh. Putting two and two together, I understood. My God, I’d been raped! But how? I couldn’t remember anything…
Leaning against the cold wall, I tried to piece together the previous night. Lydia, Alexander, his friends, the club, dancing, a sip of beer, and… nothing. That’s it. Enough sitting here—I had to leave before whoever did this came back. I pulled myself together as best I could and stumbled outside. It was already dawn. Miraculously, I made it home on foot. Thankfully, the streets were nearly empty, but the few people I passed stared. No wonder—I looked awful.
— Anna, what happened?! — Lydia cried out when I appeared at the door.
— I think I was raped… but I don’t remember anything! — I burst into tears, answering her. — Nothing at all!
— My God… You poor thing… How could this happen? Why didn’t your friend look after you?
— Alexander and I were drinking beer, and then… it’s like the film cut off…
— Could it have been him?!
— I don’t know…
— Okay, you need to go to the hospital now. Who knows what they did to you.
After the examination, the doctor confirmed my worst fears.
— Over the past 24 hours, you’ve had sexual contact with approximately three men. There’s evidence it wasn’t consensual: multiple vaginal tears, abrasions on your thighs… And judging by your nausea, weakness, and dry mouth, you were likely drugged. I can order tests if you’d like.
— No, doctor, thank you, that’s not necessary.
— But you’ll need my report if you go to the police…
— I’m not going to do that.
— As you wish. I understand. I’m not sure I would either… Here’s a prescription for pills you must take to prevent pregnancy.
— Thank you so much!
— And come back in a month for follow-up tests to rule out any STDs.
— Yes, of course…
— And don’t keep this bottled up. Please see a therapist. Good luck!
Lydia and I went home. She gently supported me by the arm. She felt guilty.
— Anna, I’m so sorry…
— For what?
— If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left you alone…
— Stop it! It’s not your fault…
— You’ve decided not to go to the police?
— Yeah, it won’t do any good. They’ll just humiliate me more. Say I asked for it. Remember that rape case in the news last year? Everyone blamed the girl, saying she shouldn’t have been walking around in a short skirt. No, I don’t want that…
— So what will you do?
— I don’t know yet. I need to find out who did this. The doctor said there were three of them. Alexander had two friends—plus him, that’s the number. But how do I know for sure?
— We could follow them…
— Exactly. Finding Alexander’s address won’t be hard. And I’ll make him talk!
— How? Torture him?
— If I have to…
— Anna, you’re scaring me.
— Don’t worry, I’m just joking…
Three days later, I went back to the club where Alexander had taken me that night (his address was already tucked in my pocket). I hoped to catch him there with his friends. Unbelievably, they were sitting at the same table, drinking, laughing, and eyeing girls. They acted so carefree, like they were untouchable. Time to act!
I quietly sat at a nearby table. That night, I wore a dark turtleneck, black pants, tinted glasses, and my hair in a ponytail. I was sure they wouldn’t recognize me. And they didn’t—acting as if nothing had happened. I ordered a bottle of sparkling water and listened closely to their conversation. They shamelessly discussed every girl in the room. Then one of them said:
— Alex, look, that girl over there looks like your friend, — he nodded toward a passing woman. — Wonder if she’s like her: will she sleep with all three of us and not even remember?
They burst out laughing. It hit me like a bucket of ice water. I was right—it was them!
I don’t know how I sat through the rest of the night. I decided to follow Alexander’s two friends. From their talk, I gathered they rented an apartment together. Finally, the trio left—thankfully, without a girl this time. Their hunt for naive girls must’ve failed. Alexander hailed a taxi, they piled in, and drove off. I flagged down another car, jumped in the front seat, and told the driver:
— Follow that black sedan!
— What, spying on your husband?
— You got it. Hurry, we’ll lose them!
— They won’t get away from me, — the driver said, his inner racer kicking in.
Within an hour, I knew where my attackers lived. I’d visit during the day. The area had plenty of benches where chatty old ladies always lingered. I’d learn what I could, then act accordingly. No one would go unpunished. I remembered the movie *The Rifleman* where a grandfather avenged his granddaughter. Well, I’m no pushover either…
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