Natasha laid down on the bed. It felt good to rest her tired eyes. The door to her cell opened, yet she did not even bother to look up to see who it w...s. She heard boyish giggling. She lifted her head to see who it was. She saw 6 boys about age 17, all dressed in boy scout uniforms. Even when Natasha closed her legs, she still looked pretty damn good to the boys. Before Natasha could get her wits about her, one of the boys pinned her head down, 2 of the boys each held an arm down and the other. “I need to...to pee soon” “Good”Not long after he turned into a small gravel road. Stopped about 100 meters from the road. They both got out, on legs that felt stiff after to long car trip. He offered her a cigarette and lit for them both. “Here,” she asked with a wry smile, “are you going to watch me...pee?”“Yes, why not?”“I am not used to have men watching” she giggled and took a long drag on the cigarette. It was a warm afternoon in late September. Then she wriggled the dress up around her. The smell of her perfume fills my nostrils as she struts past me, hips swaying with every step. Her eyes dart to mine, just like every other day. My palms are sweaty as I once again avoid her gaze, and pretend as if I wasn't just gawking at her plump ass. There's something different about her today. She seems more defiant, more dangerous than usual. The tattoos on her arms and chest are amazing, only forcing my brain to imagine where the rest lead... She isn't my type. Dangerous, tattooed,. Something inside me made it come out. Call it fear, I hope, or call it a premonition of what is to come. Is it the sad truth of what it may be like to be a woman in America a few years down the road if those currently in power get their way? This story has disturbing images of violence against women. It is not for everyone and the images presented are disturbing and frightening and may be difficult for most women (and I hope most men) to read. But it also has a message that I thought needed to.