The Bus Driver

I thought our projects were the worst I'd ever seen, until I saw this open-air dump. Everything was scary, from the doors to the trash covering the ground. Little kids were playing with what looked like a dead crow. The balconies were garbage piles. We were at the mouth of hell. Frank rolled down every window, like he was showing everyone the merchandise he'd brought back. "Where's the party?" Vitali asked. "Where are we?" "You've never been here, Vitali?" "No, never. Frank, you live here?" Every time Vitali had seen Frank, it was in an apartment in the city. Now we were in the devil's lair. He wasn't listening anymore. He whistled out the window and headed toward a parking garage that looked abandoned. Rats ran off at full speed. When the rats leave the ship, it's not a good sign. "The party is in the parking garage?" "They were only waiting for us. Well, for you. Get out now." I didn't know what scared me most: the smell of urine and weed, the single lightbulb that made the garage even creepier, or the dozen men looking at us with hunger. There was no one else. I mean, no other girls. There were tissues, condoms, and old mattresses on the ground. That's when I understood I was in a setup for a train. I'd heard about it without really believing it. The plan is always the same. A guy spots a girl who is short on love and short on a father. She's been raised on cheesy sitcoms and wants a boyfriend, to prove she can be loved. He uses her innocence to force himself on her. It can take weeks, months. It's all planned from the first contact: that's when he decides whether she's good to marry or good to screw. And since cowardice peaks in a group, he brings in his boys. After they've each taken their turn, they pretend to ask for forgiveness, when they should have asked for permission in the first place. And when we girls talked about it, the conclusion was always the same: it's the girl's fault. I didn't want to show I was afraid. Vitali grabbed her man's hand. He shook it off. "Don't touch me, you dirty skank." "What's wrong with you, Frank? Why are you acting tough in front of your boys?" Bam. The first slap. Neither of us saw it coming. "Are you serious, Frank? Why are you hitting her?" "Shut up. You want one too?" He had the same look as my brother right before he beat me. That darkness, and that pride that says: I'm the man, so I have the power. We both knew what was about to happen. Tears started running down her face.