About a Girl
by John Davis
Horrific Scribes Extremity Rating:
She lay by the chain link fence at the edge of the dark and empty car park beyond the reach of the streetlights and covered in her own vomit. A foul smell wafted from her. A hypodermic needle dangled from the inside of her arm. A shoelace, a cotton ball, a spoon, and a disposable lighter lay scattered beside her. She wasn’t moving. I was on my way home from work. I wanted to call out for help, but I was alone.
Heart pounding, I fumbled for my phone and dialed 000. A young female call-taker responded. “Do you require police, fire, or ambulance?”
“Ambulance,” I said.
“Where do you need an ambulance?”
I rattled off an address. “Car park behind K-Mart. Next to the fence.”
“Okay, sir. What is your emergency?”
“A young woman’s had an overdose, I think. There’s a needle in her arm. Might be heroin, I don’t know.”
“Alright, sir. An ambulance is being dispatched to your location. I need you to stay on the line, and I need you to do exactly what I say and answer any questions, okay? Is she responsive?”
“Um… I-I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Okay, sir. I’m going to need you to check for a response.”
Putting the phone on speaker, I laid it down on the concrete and knelt next to the woman. Her feet were bare and dirty. Grey track pants and black hoodie. Her black vomit-encrusted hair spilled across her face. Nausea tickled the back of my throat.
I took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Uh… hello? Can you hear me?”
She made no response. I informed the call-taker. She instructed me to check the woman’s airway. Rolling the woman onto her side, I brushed her hair out of her face, placed one hand in a pistol grip on her chin, planted the other against her forehead, and opened her mouth, which disgorged yellow vomit.
When I put my ear to her mouth, I heard and felt nothing. I told the call-taker.
“Alright. I’m going to need you to start CPR. Thirty chest compressions, followed by two rescue breaths. If rescue breaths aren’t possible, chest compressions will do. Okay?”
Turning the woman onto her back, I knelt beside her, placed one hand over the other, and positioned the heel of my hand over her sternum. I got my first proper look at her face.
Time stopped.
Holy shit. I knew her. I hadn’t seen that face in more than ten years.
Jenny.
“Sir?” It was the call-taker.
“Sorry, yes?”
“How are those chest compressions coming?”
“Uh… good.” I started pumping on her chest. Every second counted. The longer that blood wasn’t reaching her brain, the more her risk of death increased, and I couldn’t know how long she ‘d been like this. A rib cracked. I winced and kept pumping, putting in my whole weight until I finished all thirty compressions. I bent down, pinched her nose, and, braving the smell, put my mouth over hers and blew in air. Turning my head, I watched her chest fall back down. I gave another breath before resuming compressions.
Please live, I begged, not knowing who I was begging. God? The universe? Whoever would listen. Please.
Part of me wanted her to live simply because she was human and deserved life. But a bigger part of me wanted something else. A chance at redemption. A chance to right a wrong.
Because I was responsible for putting her here.
In 2012, I was still in high school. We were at Jack’s house, and he was telling us about a little surprise he had planned.
We sat in his living room. Ten of us guys. My best mate Skunk was there. Behind us, guys and girls from school drank and laughed and shouted over the dance music thumping from the Bluetooth speaker. The air smelled of spirits, cigarettes, and spray-on deodorant.
At seventeen, Jack was the oldest. We looked up to him. He had a narrow, acne-scarred face, a buzz cut, and the beginnings of a moustache.
Jack knew things. He told us all about stuff like which hole in the girl’s vagina you put your penis into and how to pull out so you blew your load all over her belly and didn’t get her pregnant. He was the man, and since we all wanted to be men, we looked to him for guidance.
When Skunk turned his head to look at Jack, his long curly hair wobbled in front of his eyes. “What’s the surprise?”
Jack looked at him like he was stupid. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it, retard?” He reached into his pocket and took out a pocketknife. He was always playing with that thing. It had a rosewood handle with nickel silver bolsters and brass pins. He unfolded the stainless-steel blade. The edge gleamed.
“How sharp is that?” Skunk asked. Big mistake.
Without warning, Jack stabbed him in the thigh, not deeply but enough to draw blood. Skunk shrieked like a girl and leapt off the couch. “You fuckin” stabbed me, you psycho.”
Jack guffawed as he wiped the blade clean on his jeans. “Oh man. You screamed like a little bitch.”
While Skunk went off to deal with his bleeding leg, I got up to take a piss. A little drunk, I stumbled through the shifting bodies and navigated my way to the bathroom.
Someone tapped me on the back. I turned.
Jenny beamed at me. “Hi, Ben.” She was in my class, and I had the biggest crush on her. She wore a cute green and orange floral summer dress with spaghetti straps. A deep neckline revealed her freckled chest. Her dark wavy hair tumbled around her face and bare shoulders.
But the thing that drew my attention most was that nose. That little button nose. I felt an absurd urge to kiss it.
“Where you going?” she asked. She was swaying a little, and her words sounded funny.
“Nowhere,” I told her. “Just the bathroom.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
“Both of us?”
She giggled. The sound made the hairs on my neck stand up. “Yeah, why not?” She took my hand and led me down the passageway and into the bathroom. When the door closed, we entered our own peaceful oasis, the walls muting the party sounds. The room was long and narrow, with a combined bath and shower at one end and a toilet at the other. We stood in front of a long mirror over the sink.
Neither of us said anything. I felt her closeness like a magnetic force. I cleared my throat.
Jenny lifted her hair behind her ear. “I wish you wouldn’t hang out with that guy. You’re too nice.”
“Who, Jack? He’s okay.”
“No, he’s not, he’s a fucking creep.” She shivered. Looking up at the mirror, she gasped. “Hold on, hold on. Let me get a picture of us.” She took her phone out, opened the camera app, and put her arm around my waist, pressing into me. When she rested her head on my shoulder, my heart did a summersault. Not knowing what to do with my arm, I put it around her shoulders, resting my cheek against the soft bed of her hair. It smelled like lavender shampoo.
She aimed the camera at the mirror. “Say cheese.”
I grinned as the camera flashed. Removing her arm from my waist, she looked at the photo. “Oh wow, look at that.” She showed me the photo of us grinning like a couple of idiots. “I love it.”
I stood there looking at her. Somehow my need to urinate no longer felt so urgent.
As Jenny gazed at the photo, her smile faltered. Her voice became strange and wistful. “It’s funny.”
“What is?”
“Everything happens in a flash. It’s there, and then it’s gone. Like when I took that photo. We were standing in this spot, I took the photo, and it was over. That’s what every moment is like. That’s what this moment is like. We’re here, in this bathroom, and in a few seconds, we won’t be. And this moment, of us in here, will be gone forever.” She looked at me. Her eyes sparkled. “Isn’t that sad?”
I shrugged. “That’s life.”
Her face glowed with excitement. “Maybe we should, like, do something crazy. Before the moment’s gone.”
“Like what?”
Jenny thought, her lips scrunched up in concentration. Then her eyes cleared, and she looked boldly up at me. “Kiss me.”
My mouth went dry. “Huh?”
“Kiss me. Right here. In this bathroom.”
“For real?”
Jenny laughed and nodded. “Yes, yes. Quick, before it’s too late.”
Shaking like a leaf, I leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t anything spectacular. Just a little peck. But it seemed to last a lifetime and to encompass the universe. Her lips were soft and tasted like strawberry-flavoured ChapStick.
When it ended, I was breathless. We both stared at the floor. My face burned.
“Well,” I said, “that was―”
“I better go,” Jenny said quickly, and before I could reply, she was closing the bathroom door behind her.
Not quite believing what had just happened, I relieved myself and returned to the party.
In the kitchen, Jack slung his arm around my shoulders. “Ben, mate. I need you to do something for me. It’s very important.”
I leapt at the opportunity. “What is it?”
He put his mouth close to my ear. I could feel his breath as he whispered, “Bring Jenny to the bunker.” The bunker was the name that Jack gave to his parents’ cellar. The previous owner, a delusional paranoiac, had it built in case of doomsday.
“Why?” I asked.
Jack ignored the question. “Will you do it? Come on, man. Jenny likes you. She’ll come down if you ask her to.”
My stomach dropped into my feet. Whatever Jack had planned for Jenny, it wasn’t good. He was full of cruel pranks. But if I refused to go along with it, I’d be called a pussy for the rest of my life. I just couldn’t have that, my feelings for Jenny notwithstanding. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
I agreed to do it.
He grinned and slapped me on the back. Hard. “Mint. See you down there, legend.” He turned and melted into the crowd.
After a brief search, I found Jenny in the living room. She sat alone on the couch, turning a sterling silver infinity ring around on her finger. Her eyes were thoughtful.
When I told her I wanted to show her something, her face lit up. Something shriveled inside me. “What is it?” she asked.
“Come see.” I guided her through the party, wading through the bodies. I’d been to Jack’s place before, so I knew where to find the bunker. We came to a heavy black door at the end of the passageway.
The door was already open.
Jack was there. Smiling. Next to him was a guy I’d never seen before. He looked mean and stupid. He had an oily black mullet that hadn’t seen a shower in weeks.
“Hi, Jen,” Jack said. He gestured to the doorway. “Come on down. Got a surprise for you.”
Jenny looked at me for reassurance. She no longer looked excited. She looked scared.
I spoke softly in her ear. “Just come down for a second. For me.”
She gazed into my eyes. “Alright,” she said. She went down the stairs. Jack and I followed.
Beyond the door was a gloomy stone stairway descending beneath the house. A faint light glowed at the bottom, illuminating the bottom stairs. As we descended, the door shut behind us. I heard the lock click. The guy with the mullet was acting as some kind of security, keeping people out. He made me nervous.
Ahead of us, Jenny asked, “What’s down here?”
“You’ll see,” was Jack’s cryptic reply.
Sinking deeper under the house, I listened for signs of activity below, but the bunker yielded only silence. The silence felt alive, like something was lying in wait for us down there. Something mean and angry.
I entered the bunker behind Jenny. It was a small square room with brick walls covered in peeling white paint, a low ceiling, and a grimy concrete floor. Grit crunched under my shoes. The air smelled damp. Narrow copper pipes ran along the walls and ceiling. A faucet jutted from a wall. A single naked bulb burned in the centre of the ceiling, shedding a sallow light, and a high rectangular window let out onto street level.
In the centre of the room lay a king-size mattress with a smelly, yellowing duvet thrown on it.
And all around the room, a bunch of guys sat rigidly on tattered old sofas and chairs. A couple I didn’t recognize. Skunk was there, his leg bandaged. Including Jenny, there were thirteen of us. She was the only girl, which I thought was strange. The air felt charged.
Jenny stayed close to me. She trembled.
“Good work, Ben,” Jack said. “Give us some room now.”
Obediently, I moved to the wall. Jenny started to join me, but Jack held her back. “You stay here.”
Jenny looked from me to Jack. Her eyes were full of doubt and fear.
Jack told her to take off her dress.
“What?”
“Take it off.”
Jenny hugged herself and backed up a step. “No.”
Jack reached into his pocket. The folding knife appeared in his hand. He extracted the blade and lifted it to her face. Jenny flinched away, but he grabbed her arm, squeezed, held her still. “Jenny, girl. This is no time to argue. Now, I promised the fellas that we were gonna have some fun. Don’t be a spoil sport. You wouldn’t ruin this for us, would you?” He used the knife to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She winced. Her face was pale, and tears shone in her eyes. “Would you?”
Her eyes found me. “Ben?”
Jack grabbed her face and cranked it back to him. “Don’t look at him, look at me.” He made a V with his fingers and pointed it at her eyes and then at his own. “Right here. That’s it. I don’t want to hurt you, Jenny. But if you make me angry, I might do something I’ll regret.” He traced the tip of the knife along her jaw. Jenny squeezed her eyes shut. Her chin wrinkled and her lips trembled as tears spilled down her cheeks. Great big fat tears. “Okay?”
Some of the guys grunted their agreement. Others squirmed. A few laughed uncomfortably. Most of us said nothing. I could only watch. I felt cold.
Jenny nodded.
“Alright.” He removed the knife and stepped back. “Now take off that dress.”
She looked at the faces arrayed around her, searching for a sympathetic soul. No one would meet her gaze. Sniffling, Jenny reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress, and pulled it up over her head.
“Drop it,” Jack said.
Sobbing, Jenny let the dress fall on the floor. She stood there in her white bra and panties. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs.
The eyes of the others crawled all over her.
Jack said, “Don’t stop now. Keep going.”
“I don’t want to,” Jenny said.
“Too bad, bitch. Take them off.”
“No.” Jenny scooped up her dress and headed for the doorway. Before she made two strides, someone got up and blocked her path. Skunk and two other guys stood up, ready to jump in.
The atmosphere had shifted. It felt dangerous.
The acids in my stomach churned. I tasted something bitter and metallic at the back of my throat.
“Let me out,” Jenny said, her voice becoming shrill. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Jack strode over to her, grabbed her throat, and waved the knife in her face. “You will if you know what’s good for you. Now―”
Jenny made a claw with her right hand and raked her long fingernails across Jack’s face. As he clutched his face, Jenny whirled and charged at the guy blocking the doorway. The guy wrapped her in a bearhug, pinning her arms to her sides. Jenny kicked and screamed. She tried to bite his face. She was like an animal.
Skunk and the two other guys who’d stood up jumped on her. They tackled her to the floor. Skunk put a hand over her mouth to stop her screaming. He winced and pulled his hand away, shaking it. “Bitch bit me.”
Jenny struggled beneath them.
Three vivid scratches ran diagonally across Jack’s forehead and nose. He touched his face, winced, and looked at his fingers. They had blood on them. Scowling, he knelt beside Jenny’s head. “You just made a big fuckin’ mistake,” he said. He pushed the tip of the blade into her cheek. Jenny instantly stopped struggling. A bead of blood welled where the blade pierced her flesh and trickled, leaving a thin red trail.
I took a step forward. “Hey, Jack. I, uh… I think that’s enough, man.”
He glared at me. “Shut the fuck up.” He returned his attention to Jenny. He dragged the blade a couple of centimetres down her cheek, opening a small cut. Jenny groaned. “If you don’t do what I say,” Jack told her, “I’ll kill you.” He removed the knife.
The others got off and let her up. With her hand on her cut cheek, Jenny looked first at Jack, then at the mattress, then at the knife in Jack’s hand, the tip stained with her blood. Seeming to realize the hopelessness of her position, she shuffled over to the mattress. Shielding her face with her hair, she reached behind her back to unclip her bra.
“Wait,” Jack said. “I’ll do it.” He stepped behind her and, with a single flick of the knife, severed the bra strap. The cups fell away from her small breasts. She had little pink nipples and brown areolas. She covered them with her arms and lowered her head. Her thighs quivered.
Jack slid the blade between her panties and her hip and sliced them open. The panties fell away, and Jenny stood there naked and quivering before us, her legs slightly crossed to hide the little folds of flesh. Her dark hairs down there mesmerized me.
Jenny, naked, right in front of me—a dream come true. My eyes travelled over the smooth shoulders, the hint of breast above her arms, the quivering stomach, and that secret place between her legs. Despite how frightened I was, I couldn’t help feeling a little excited. The rules had changed.
I stood there, looking at her, letting it happen. Because I no longer saw Jenny as a person. She was something else, a spectacle. A dazzling mirage. I wanted to reach out and touch her, feel the soft, smooth skin.
Jack pointed at the mattress. “Lie down.”
Jenny seemed not to hear him. She stood there trembling. Her lack of cooperation angered me. Why was she ruining this for us?
He grabbed her by the elbow and pushed her to the mattress. “Lie the fuck down.”
Sobbing, Jenny crawled onto the yellowed duvet. She lay down on her back and covered her face with her hands, as if by shielding her eyes, she could block everything out.
Jack folded the knife and put it in his pocket. He unzipped his jumper, the little plastic teeth rasping loudly as they parted. “I’ll go first.”
I felt numb as Jack undressed. His erection was red and angry. Purple veins, some thick and some thin, undulated under the taut flesh of his penis like parasitic worms. He crawled on top of Jenny, grabbed her knees, and pried her legs apart.
He pushed his penis into her. She gasped, and the gasp became a long, drawn-out groan of pain. She cried as he wrenched his penis out and plunged it in again, stabbing her body with his erection. Blood trickled from her vagina and dripped onto the duvet. In the light of the bulb, Jack’s naked back shone with sweat, the ridges of his spine writhing beneath the flesh.
I watched with a mix of horror and fascination.
Jack gave a final, elongated thrust. His back arched and his body spasmed. He made grunting sounds. When he pulled out of Jenny, a jiggling rope of semen dangled from the end of his withering erection. It leaked from Jenny’s bleeding vagina. Her hands never left her face.
Jack wiped his penis off on the duvet, got off the bed, and started pulling on his underwear. “Who’s next?”
For a moment, no one moved. Then Skunk stood up. I could see his erection pushing at his pants. “I’ll go.” He stepped forward and pulled his shoes off. They thudded on the concrete floor.
I watched as everyone took his turn. Each time someone finished, another guy stepped forward. Most of the time, I looked everywhere but at what was happening on that mattress. I followed the cracks in the ceiling, counted bits of grit on the floor, studied the tense, sweating faces of the guys around me. Some of them were stroking themselves through their pants, trying to stay hard. No one there wanted to have a limp cock when it was his turn.
Finally, the last guy climbed off Jenny. The putrid stench of semen and sweat stained the air. It soaked into my pores.
Then Jack looked at me. “Your turn, mate.”
I stared at him. “Me?”
“Yeah. You helped make this happen. Have your turn. It’s only fair.”
I looked at the pale, frozen form of Jenny. The duvet was stained with blood and semen. I shook my head. “No thanks.”
Jack laughed. “You gotta have your turn, mate. We all have.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Jack’s face darkened. His tone lost its humor. “What’s the matter? You a poofter?”
“No, I just…”
“No? You’re not a poofter?” He gestured at Jenny. “Prove it, motherfucker. No one leaves this fuckin’ room until you do.”
“Come on, Ben,” Skunk urged from his place on the couch. “Just get it over with.”
“Hurry up, man,” someone else shouted.
Moving like I was in a nightmare, I took off my shoes and socks. I unfastened my jeans, tugged them off. Pulled my shirt up over my head. Undies last. Finally, I was naked, in the middle of the room, standing over Jenny. I kept thinking, It’s my turn now. I gotta go. But my penis was limp and small. Mimicking the others, I tried stroking it to hardness, but it wouldn’t rise.
The room was dead silent.
My face heating with shame, I gave up trying to get myself hard and climbed on top of Jenny. Her body was completely stiff. Her vagina was a wound between her legs. She still had her hands clamped vice-like over her eyes. I wondered if she even knew what was happening.
I rubbed my flaccid penis against her labia. Semen oozed out of her vagina in a viscous stream, spreading across the duvet in a jiggling puddle of pearlescent fluid, and it disgusted me. Jenny disgusted me. She was barely even human anymore. She was a used and soiled thing. Any feelings of affection I once held for her wilted and died.
I gave a few half-hearted thrusts and climbed off her, feeling eyes on me as I dressed.
Jack threw Jenny’s dress contemptuously at her. “Not a fucking word to anyone about this.”
Silently, Jenny climbed off the mattress and pulled her dress on. She looked so small, like she’d shrunk somehow. Hugging herself, she went slowly up the stairs. The door opened for her, and she was gone.
As the others walked out, I stared at the mattress. I thought of what Jenny had told me in the bathroom. That stuff about moments, how they appear with a flash and then vanish again.
As if nothing ever happened.
I clung to that sentiment.
When I returned to the party upstairs, I couldn’t find Jenny. I checked the front yard. No sign of her there either. I guessed she’d gone home.
Skunk appeared at my side. “That shit was crazy,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Crazy.”
I gazed into the night. The houses stood dark and silent along the street, keeping their secrets.
I was still pumping on Jenny’s chest when the ambulance arrived with screaming siren and flashing lights, painting the dark car park and concrete shopping complex alternately red and blue.
Two paramedics, a man and woman, leapt out and flung open the side door, each slinging a bag over their shoulder and hoisting another in one hand. They strode over and deposited their gear on the ground.
The male paramedic pulled on blue latex gloves and seamlessly swapped positions with me, ensuring the CPR continued uninterrupted. “Thanks, mate,” he said. “We got it now. Stand back please.”
“Please save her,” I said pointlessly.
While the male paramedic took over CPR, the female paramedic pulled on latex gloves and set up a defibrillator. Moments later, another ambulance arrived, and two more paramedics jumped out to join the first two.
The paramedics fought to save her, but Jenny wasn’t moving. They rapidly relayed information back and forth, but I heard none of it. My head was so full of pounding blood that no sound registered. I felt nothing but blind, desperate hope. I watched helplessly as they stood back and activated the defibrillator, then continued CPR. The female paramedic injected something into Jenny’s ankle with a syringe.
I had no idea how long I stood there. Time lost all meaning. Eventually, the paramedics stopped and stood up, wiping forearms across foreheads. The female paramedic removed the defibrillator straps and packed away the gear while another paramedic produced a white roll. Standing at Jenny’s feet, he let the roll unravel. I realized it was a sheet.
He shook it out and let it settle over Jenny’s body while a paramedic at Jenny’s head grabbed the other end and pulled it over her face.
One of the paramedics came up to me and said something, but I couldn’t hear him. I could only stare at the shape of Jenny lying beneath the shroud.
I thought about how Jenny said moments come in a flash and disappear forever. An idea I’d held onto for the last decade and a half.
But nothing was that simple.
Want another gripping story by John Davis? Read “It Hungers” in Horrific Scribes September 2025.