No one noticed when she opened the window in her bedroom, and crawled out, rebellious, excited to go drinking, be mature, to be a grownup.

No one noticed the 17-year-old, sneaking down the streets, approaching midnight, dressed in too much makeup and too short of a dress.

No one noticed or perhaps no one cared when she entered, clearly to young to be at the run-down bar that late at night, a few hours before it would close. No one cared her ID was an obvious forgery.

No one cared as she drank too much, drank too fast, clearly not ready for that amount of alcohol. No one cared when a few men got too grabby with her much too drunk body, taking liberties she was too out of it to notice.

No one cared when some pills were dropped in her beer. No one cared when Eddie, a violent drunk groped her all but passed out body at the table. No one cared when he walked her to the men’s’ room. No one cared when the first scream came, the first heavy thuds. No one got up to investigate or call for help.

No one cared when Eddie came out, soaked in sweat, zipping his pants, blood on his fist. No one cared when a few men went back to the bathroom themselves. No one called when they found her in the stall, busted nose, bloody split lip, crying, naked. No one hesitated when they grabbed her, held her down, and took turns raping her ass and her cunt and her mouth. No one said anything when one of them punched her in the gut repeatedly when she slapped one of them.

No one cared when those men left. No one did nothing, as men, in ones or twos, went in and out of the bathroom. No one took photographs except as a keepsake, a forbidden image of ruined innocence. No one treated her wounds, no one asked her if she was ok. No one stopped anyone when they kicked her, shoved her head in the toilet, pissed on her, punched her, or choked her.

No one moved, after she pissed herself as one guy choked her as he fucked and raped her limp form. She twitched, pissed, and was rubber. No one breathed for long seconds, until her chest spasmed, weakly gasping for air. No one stopped after that, shoving bottles into her swollen and bloody and damaged holes.

No one cared. No one said anything after Eddie has another go at her, making her scream once more. No one said anything as he carried her out. No one said anything as the bartender switched the security tape, replacing it with a damaged one that recorded nothing but static. No one had second thoughts about the night, some laughed and joked about that moment, where she had stopped.

No one noticed a man tossing a girl against his trunk or shoving up in her ass as she weakly whimpered, punching her out as he came in her, letting her drop to the gravel, pink leaking out of her gaped ass. No one noticed him opening the trunk and tossing her in, driving away.

Everyone noticed the news in the following weeks, as the image of the girl was flashed on screen, as signs were put up, searching for her. No one spoke, or joked about it, but everyone thought about that night. Everyone noticed Eddie didn’t come around anymore and everyone noticed when cops asked some questions, and everyone sighed in relief when they left. No one cared about the story long term and it was forgotten about just a few weeks later.

After 3 months, no one was never seen again. Everyone noticed when Eddie returned, as mean as ever. No one noticed that the jokes had returned, at least in certain company. Eventually, another girl walked in, who clearly didn’t belong there.

Everyone noticed, and no one said nothing, as the cycle repeated again.