i dunno what possessed me. humor it.

you and me, we look good,
when we're dressed in black
ready to paint the city red.
let's paint the city red.

you and me, we look good,
when we're dressed in white
ready to paint the city tonight.
let's paint the city tonight.

- we look good in black by closed heart surgery

(She'll never speak of this moment again. She'll never tell anyone; she'll never even let herself remember.)

Damien rapes her.

It happens quickly, and she's left keeled over at the foot of a trash can in an unmarked alley. It happens so fast, in fact, that she wonders if it could have been just a horrifying nightmare; her imagination kicking into overdrive, perhaps. She's left curled up with her head tucked in between her knees. And she thinks - this is my fault.

(What do you think, Jen? Of course this is your fault. How fucking stupid could you be? You knew he was bad news. You knew it, you knew it, you knew it.)

And she looks down at her cell phone; it gleams incessantly in the darkness. Four missed calls from Eric. She looks down through her wide, painfully dry eyes, and she blinks so indifferently, so numbly.

She closes the cell phone and she remembers (god, fucking damn it, don't remember it, don't remember it, why are you remembering it?). Happens so quickly. Happens so easily. She wants to laugh cruelly at the injustice. She wants to erase it from her memory. But it's there (oh, and here's how it goes: "Hey, Jenny Humphrey, drugs, drugs, drugs, alcohol, I'm-a-bad-ass, let's fuck, I don't care if you don't want to," it hurts, it hurts, it hurts).

(That's how it happens. Now you know.)

She picks up her cell-phone and calls the first number on speed-dial (and her hands feel so cold, so broken). She waits, she waits, she waits. And she'll wait forever if she has to. She'll wait. She can be patient.

"Hi, this is Nate, leave a message."

(This is when she begins to cry.)

"Nate? I need you."

(Wasn't there a time when that would send him running towards her? There used to be a time when he would do this for her. Now he's gone. And his cell-phone's turned off.)

"I'm such an idiot."

(Well, that's a given, sweetheart.)

"I need you right now."

("You open your sweet little mouth about this, Jenny Humphrey, and I will destroy you." He pats her on the cheek and zips his jeans and it hurts it still hurts why does it hurt?)

And there is silence on the other end.

Her cell-phone beeps and then dies. (And this is when she begins to understand. This is when she curls her hands into fists and smashes them into the concrete [and god there's so much blood on her hands]; this is when she opens her mouth and lets out a wordless wail. This is when she cries and cries and cries and no one's there to hear her.)