I cut through the park and looped around, heading back to my apartment.
Running a hand through my sweaty hair, I pushed my legs as hard as they
could go. The vibration of my phone against my hip slowed me down. I put my
hands on my knees, breathing heavily as I answered the phone.
"Sidle," I answered.
"Oh, Sarah, what have you been doing?" Nick joked when he heard my heavy breathing.
"Shut up, Nick, I was just jogging."
"Yeah, whatever," he said, still laughing. "Grissom wanted me to call you. He needs you here ASAP to go over the details of last night's case."
"Ok, I'll be there in about half an hour," I said, quickly hanging up and sprinting back to the apartment to take a shower and get dressed.
As I neared the apartment, I slowed to a jog and dug my keys out of my pocket. Fumbling with my keys in the lock, I could have sworn I heard a noise inside the apartment. Holding my breath, I silently cursed myself for leaving my gun inside.
I slowly opened the door and crept inside, slipping through each room to check them. Of course, I found nothing out of the ordinary. "I need a break," I said aloud to myself.
Shrugging, I stepped into the bathroom and into the shower. I relished in the feel of the cool water on my hot skin. Turning off the water, I wrapped myself in a towel, and used a second one to dry my hair. Again, I heard a sound from inside the apartment. I held my breath and waited, but nothing came. I slipped out the door and headed down the hall to my bedroom, where my gun was stored.
"Get a grip, Sidle," I thought, this time angrily. "You're getting paranoid."
I dropped the towel and slipped on a pair of jeans and an oversized Harvard University shirt. I stopped again, this time scared by the feeling of being watched. A chill ran up my spine. I spun around and, once again, found nothing.
But, when I turned back around, I came face to face with someone. Tall, wearing all black with a black ski cap pulled low over his face, he stood staring at me. The only things that were visible were his eyes. They were warm, brown eyes that seemed to see all the way into my soul. Something about those eyes was familiar, too familiar.
The man took a step towards me, and, in return, I took a few steps back. Towards the drawer. Towards my gun.
Using my investigative senses, I searched him with my mind, trying to find a weapon of some sort. Finding none, I dashed backwards towards the dresser. Yanking the drawer open, I pulled out papers and searched for the gun.
"Looking for this?" I jumped at the sound of the man's voice. Bolting upright, I found him facing me, my gun in his hand. But that's not what scared me. What scared me was the familiarity in his voice.
He took another step towards me. I backed up until, to my horror, I found my back pressed flat against the wall. As he stepped closer, I forced my mind to remember everything that I was taught in my self-defense classes.
I waited until he took another step closer, and then I lashed out with my right leg, catching him in the left thigh, just narrowly missing his groin. He bent over, in pain, and I dashed past him towards the door. However, he surprised me by grabbing me around the waist and spinning me back around to face him. Pinning my arms to my side, he leaned forward and kissed me, pressing his lips harshly against my own.
Pulling his lips away from mine, he threw me down on the bed. He climbed over onto me, using his knees to hold my legs in place.
He kissed me again and then harshly grabbed at my shirt, ripping it halfway down the center. I fought hard to remember everything I had ever learned as a CSI and in self-defense classes. But the feeling of his hands on my body shut my mind completely off. I closed my eyes tight and tried to imagine myself somewhere, anywhere, but where I was.
As his hands reached my pants, I snapped back to reality. Screaming I reared my knee up and hit him square in the groin. Giving a cry of pain, the man covered my mouth with one hand and used the other to grab my bedside lamp. Using all of his strength, he slammed the lamp into the side of my head.
I felt a dull pain beating through my skull, and a black darkness was tugging at the corner of my mind. I fought to stay conscious, fearing what might happen if I didn't. But I lost the battle, and my body gave in to the darkness.
I awoke, a deep pain slicing through my head. I reached up and felt something wet and sticky on the side of my head. I brought my hand down and saw that it was red. Suddenly, the whole awful night came back to me.
I shook as violent sobs racked my body. I rubbed the tears from my face and thought about what I should do. I realized that I should call someone. I racked my brain thinking of someone to call. Only one person came to mind; the person I would have least expected to ever go to for help.
I reached for the phone and dialed the number that had become so familiar to me; only this would be the first time that I had ever called it for personal reasons.
"Sidle," I answered.
"Oh, Sarah, what have you been doing?" Nick joked when he heard my heavy breathing.
"Shut up, Nick, I was just jogging."
"Yeah, whatever," he said, still laughing. "Grissom wanted me to call you. He needs you here ASAP to go over the details of last night's case."
"Ok, I'll be there in about half an hour," I said, quickly hanging up and sprinting back to the apartment to take a shower and get dressed.
As I neared the apartment, I slowed to a jog and dug my keys out of my pocket. Fumbling with my keys in the lock, I could have sworn I heard a noise inside the apartment. Holding my breath, I silently cursed myself for leaving my gun inside.
I slowly opened the door and crept inside, slipping through each room to check them. Of course, I found nothing out of the ordinary. "I need a break," I said aloud to myself.
Shrugging, I stepped into the bathroom and into the shower. I relished in the feel of the cool water on my hot skin. Turning off the water, I wrapped myself in a towel, and used a second one to dry my hair. Again, I heard a sound from inside the apartment. I held my breath and waited, but nothing came. I slipped out the door and headed down the hall to my bedroom, where my gun was stored.
"Get a grip, Sidle," I thought, this time angrily. "You're getting paranoid."
I dropped the towel and slipped on a pair of jeans and an oversized Harvard University shirt. I stopped again, this time scared by the feeling of being watched. A chill ran up my spine. I spun around and, once again, found nothing.
But, when I turned back around, I came face to face with someone. Tall, wearing all black with a black ski cap pulled low over his face, he stood staring at me. The only things that were visible were his eyes. They were warm, brown eyes that seemed to see all the way into my soul. Something about those eyes was familiar, too familiar.
The man took a step towards me, and, in return, I took a few steps back. Towards the drawer. Towards my gun.
Using my investigative senses, I searched him with my mind, trying to find a weapon of some sort. Finding none, I dashed backwards towards the dresser. Yanking the drawer open, I pulled out papers and searched for the gun.
"Looking for this?" I jumped at the sound of the man's voice. Bolting upright, I found him facing me, my gun in his hand. But that's not what scared me. What scared me was the familiarity in his voice.
He took another step towards me. I backed up until, to my horror, I found my back pressed flat against the wall. As he stepped closer, I forced my mind to remember everything that I was taught in my self-defense classes.
I waited until he took another step closer, and then I lashed out with my right leg, catching him in the left thigh, just narrowly missing his groin. He bent over, in pain, and I dashed past him towards the door. However, he surprised me by grabbing me around the waist and spinning me back around to face him. Pinning my arms to my side, he leaned forward and kissed me, pressing his lips harshly against my own.
Pulling his lips away from mine, he threw me down on the bed. He climbed over onto me, using his knees to hold my legs in place.
He kissed me again and then harshly grabbed at my shirt, ripping it halfway down the center. I fought hard to remember everything I had ever learned as a CSI and in self-defense classes. But the feeling of his hands on my body shut my mind completely off. I closed my eyes tight and tried to imagine myself somewhere, anywhere, but where I was.
As his hands reached my pants, I snapped back to reality. Screaming I reared my knee up and hit him square in the groin. Giving a cry of pain, the man covered my mouth with one hand and used the other to grab my bedside lamp. Using all of his strength, he slammed the lamp into the side of my head.
I felt a dull pain beating through my skull, and a black darkness was tugging at the corner of my mind. I fought to stay conscious, fearing what might happen if I didn't. But I lost the battle, and my body gave in to the darkness.
I awoke, a deep pain slicing through my head. I reached up and felt something wet and sticky on the side of my head. I brought my hand down and saw that it was red. Suddenly, the whole awful night came back to me.
I shook as violent sobs racked my body. I rubbed the tears from my face and thought about what I should do. I realized that I should call someone. I racked my brain thinking of someone to call. Only one person came to mind; the person I would have least expected to ever go to for help.
I reached for the phone and dialed the number that had become so familiar to me; only this would be the first time that I had ever called it for personal reasons.