Katie Thinks Fast

A swift kick to my ribs told me I wouldn't win this fight with strength. No matter what he did to me, I had to keep quiet. The minute the girls heard me struggling, they'd open the door to investigate. I'd left my phone on the nightstand, only planning to be in the hall for a few minutes.

"You bitches are causing me too much trouble. Why the fuck couldn't you stay dead?" he hissed, pulling me by my hair down the hallway to the stairwell.

I tried grabbing onto door frames and slapping at the rooms we passed, hoping someone, other than my girls, would hear the commotion. When we reached the vending nook, he yanked open the emergency exit door and threw me against the corner of the landing, smashing my elbow into the wall. Far from the girls, I allowed myself a loud shriek, causing him to kick me in the back.

"I won't tell you again. Shut the fuck up," he ordered, sliding his belt out of the loops, his hands covered in blood. Was it mine? I didn't know.

Oh, God, no. He was going to rape me, I thought, panicking. My bologna sandwich came back up, landing at his feet, angering him into a series of vicious kicks to my back and ribs. I'd never felt so helpless in my life. Nothing Frank had ever done was this vile. No obstacle ever stopped me before. This, though? To be tossed around like a ragdoll with no control over my own body. This broke me. All I could do was keep my hands in front of my face to ward off blows and sob.

When he tired of kicking me he began punching my face until I was seeing double. Bones crunched in my nose and my lips were split. One blow made me bite my tongue and blood pooled on my chest while he continued to batter me with his fists. There was blood everywhere. All the time he was beating me I kept praying that he would not go back and knock on the room door, convincing the girls to let him in.

Instead of taking off his shorts to rape me, he wrapped the leather belt around my neck, then looped the end over the stairwell railing, securing the buckle snugly, and pulling me to my knees. With a mighty shove, he pushed me over the railing leaving me to dangle above the next landing by my neck as I struggled to release the pressure on my windpipe.

"Mommy? Mommy?" Katie whispered into the darkened room. "Mommy? Where are you?"

She got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. A quiet knock on the door startled her back into bed and under the covers.

"Hello? Hello? Little girl, your mommy needs help. You have to help me find her! Open the door."

Fraught with indecision, she fought the impulse to let the stranger with the kind voice into the room. What if Mommy really needed her? She needed a grown-up to help her.

"Really, she's sick and I think she needs your help," the voice on the other side of the door pleaded.

She silently reached for the hotel phone on the nightstand. Not quite certain how it worked she saw a button that said, "FRONT DESK," and pushed it silently. Her breath came in ragged puffs while she waited for someone to answer.

"Front Desk. Can I help you?"

Whispering, Katie said, "My Mommy is gone and a stranger is trying to get into our room. Can you call 911?"

"Oh, no! We will send someone right up. They will tell you they're from the front desk. Until he arrives don't open the door. He's a security guard and his name is Mr. Norman."

Katie woke Beanie up, and took her into the bathroom, locking the door behind them, while waiting for Mr. Norman.

Outside the door, she heard, "Hey, you! Who are you and what are you doing here?" then, a set of feet pounded down the hotel hall to the emergency exit.