by Miranda Hawkins
Lightening streaked through the moonless night as the knife pressed harshly against Skye's throat and a deep voice whispered roughly in one ear, commanding her further into the unlit alley. Frozen in fear she had no time to comply with her attacker's demands before being dragged from the street and thrown fiercely to the slick, dirty pavement. He was on top of her in seconds tearing ferally at her clothes; she wanted to cry out, but fear's grip was too strong and all she could do was whimper.
Skye Taylor shot up in bed, soaked in sweat, with a scream still trapped in her clenched throat. Quickly she switched on a lamp illuminating the room just enough to ensure that she really was alone. It had been fifteen years since the assault, but nightmares continued to plague her and a good night's sleep was a rare thing indeed. The memories were still so clear in her mind, as if everything had happened only a few days ago.
When the stranger had finished with her Skye tried to collect what was left of her clothes and go home, but she only succeeded in passing out. She came to in a hospital room with her father looming darkly over her. The anger in his face that night still made her shudder and his words still echoed cruelly in her ears.
"I warned you it would come to this if you strayed from the path of God. Look at yourself, you've become nothing more than a common whore! As God does smite the wicked, so shall I. Never again will your tainted flesh enter my home, and never again will I recognize you as my child! I only thank the Lord in Heaven that your mother didn't live to see what you've become."
Skye tried to reason with him, to explain what she'd been doing out past her curfew, but her father would have none of it. He turned, and without once looking back, left her life forever. It soon became obvious that she was pregnant and although there were many who recommended abortion, Skye refused, determined not to punish the child for the father's crime. She decided, instead, to give the baby up for adoption.
From the age of fifteen on she'd struggled day to day just to make ends meet. Never able to keep a job for long, Skye was constantly on welfare surviving as best as she could. Now, through some new programs, she truly believed that she'd found a way to disentangle herself from the life her father had so quickly condemned her to. Skye felt that she'd finally found her niche as a researcher and typist at the local news station, and soon all her problems would fade into the past where they belonged.
Suddenly, the sound of her alarm broke Skye from her silent reverie. Six o'clock always seemed to arrive too soon. She prepared for work quickly and was ready to leave in plenty of time. It was a good thing too, because right as she stepped outside it began to rain and by the time she'd reached her car it was pouring. The long drive to work went without incident, but as Skye pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine she realized somewhat belatedly that her umbrella was at home on top of the dryer. Cursing to herself, she grabbed up her satchel, slammed the door and ran as fast as she could to the building's side entrance, which was nearest her office.
Unfortunately someone inside apparently had the same ‘forget the umbrella and run like hell' idea that Skye did, so upon flinging open the door she collided head-on with one of the new, part-time cameramen. Papers and research notes went flying everywhere, everything getting drenched in the process, and both Skye and the cameraman landed hard on the ground. Instantly, Skye was on her hands and knees trying to save her work since it was far too late to save her dignity.
"Dammit!" she cried. "Why don't you watch where you're going?!"
"I'm terribly sorry, miss," the man replied, stooping to help her gather her papers back together. "I didn't realize. . . I mean, everything happened so fast. . . "
By now both of them were entirely drenched and as he lapsed into an embarrassed silence Skye looked over at him to retort, but she found all she could do was laugh. The man, who was probably about her age, looked startled and then annoyed.
"What's so funny?"
"Well," Skye replied, ebbing her giggles, "If I look as much like a drowned rat as you do, I'm surprised you're not laughing, too!"
The man stared at her for a second, then began to grin and finally to laugh. Standing he strode over to her, handing Skye the last of her notes and helping her up off the ground.
"Well, after knocking you down like that I feel like I should introduce myself," he said, once they were inside. "My name's Rob Daniels and if there's anything I can do to make all of this up to you I'd be more than happy to comply."
"I'm Skye Taylor," she replied, giving Rob a quick once-over and enjoying the way his wet clothes clung to his body, "and now that you mention it, I've been dying to try out that new restaurant around the corner."
Rob smiled at her, and Skye's heart began to flutter. "A date, then?"
"Yes," she agreed, smiling back. "A date."
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