I lay abandoned and broken on a filthy, concrete-hard, dirt floor. He stalks towards me, a predator after his prey. His evil green eyes glint in the practically nonexistent light, but I can see that the way I squirm sets his world on fire with a pure devilish delight. He is close now, this man who wishes to take away what little I own, myself, my body. I writhe with fear, an untamed buckling horror. He cackles into the still silence, relishing in pleasure of his power over me. Moving to the floor, he places his hands on my light, pink cotton blouse. He tries to be tender, but what does a man of his profession need to be tender? They are brutal and Satanic in every fiber of their being. My hands, tied behind my back, begin to shake violently. The cool wind blows on my too bare skin. His breath reeks with liquor; his rough hands grope my body. Tears stream down my dirt-streaked face. I lash out with my legs; aiming for the spot on his body that would cause him the most pain, but as my feet collide with his body, he starts to laugh in a loud, booming uproar. He pins my legs down with his mud caked hands; there is no chance for escape now. I cry out with faint hope, knowing that no one will just miraculously be in the wilderness, ready to save me from this disgusting beast…