AN; Hello, Red Eye fans. I would like to start off telling you all that there are three things I suck at.

Romance- I'm going to have to watch/read major Jane Austen/Twilight/thing with good romance to get it down. ughface

Violence- I can't describe who's doing what like that. I'm going to have to watch/read violent things for inspiration as well. Doubleplusughface

Updating- College, work, inspiration. All things that will keep me from updating fast.

I'm screwed.

This story is completely different than any other story I've ever thought of writing (my other stuff is fluffy and sarcastic… well I hope the sarcasm can stay a little ^^) and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to deliver. So please be patient and I would love constructive criticism.

This story obviously starts right after Lisa was raped.

Disclaimer: I don't own Red Eye. If I did, Jackson would have kidnapped me by now and this would not exist.

So without further ado…..

Lisa did not know what to do. She did not know what to feel. The only emotion she was certain of was fear. Fear from what she just experienced… what she managed to live through. She was not sure how she arrived home. Her hands were so shaky, how was she able to drive? She only remembered was stopping several times in fear of vomiting and almost getting into several accidents. Her mind was absolutely blank. Her vision was blurred through the constant tears.

Fumbling with the key, she finally entered her apartment. She quickly locked the door and sank to the ground. Tears erupted from her eyes. She looked down at her clothes or what was left of them. Shattered. Ripped. Torn. Bloody.

She sat there for who know how long. She knew she should call the police… but they would ask questions. They would make her re-live the terror. Then they would send her to the hospital. The last thing she wanted was some "professional" poking around the area that was just so cruelly violated. She didn't want that… at least not today.

She felt bile forming in her mouth and she scrambled to the bathroom. She made it to the toilet in time. Sweating, shaky, frightened sick. Did she dare look at herself in the mirror?

Slowly, she turned her head to look at the mirror that hung on the door. A person who she did not recognize looked back at her. The person was pale, sickly and ugly. Mascara ran down her eyes which were big and puffy. There was blood everywhere. The cruelest part of the image was a cut. A long bleeding cut. The blood seeped into the clothes. She looked like something from a horror film. She looked on the outside how she felt on the inside. She vomited once more.

Wanting to rid of the person in the mirror, she went into the shower hoping to wash away the new person. She knew that she couldn't. The person in the mirror was her new identity.

The hardest part of the shower was taking of the remains of her clothes off. She did not want to be naked again. She also could not wear those clothes anymore. She hated the sight of them. It was terrifying take off the clothes. She felt like he was going to come back and rape her again if she did. All of the buttons were ripped from her shirt. She slid it off. It was originally white, now it was red. Her miniskirt was black. Now, it was disgusting.

Her legs were so unsteady and wobbly. Holding the wall for support, she put her jelly legs into the shower. She turned on the water letting it wash off the blood. The water was hot. It burned her skin. Maybe it could take off all of her skin. Take away where the vile man touched. The water stung her scar. How appropriate.

Few actual thoughts flew threw her head as she took the shower. Just images. Harsh, cold, frightening images. She was terrified at what she should do.

Once the water turned from red to clear and she scrubbed body until she was pink, Lisa turned off the water. Wrapping a towel firmly around her, she scraped to her room. It was getting dark out. The clock told her it was eight. She had left the house at noon. It happened at around three.

She shivered.

Walking to her closet, she chose the ugliest clothes she had to put on. Old sweat pants that were way too big for her and a faded black shirt. She did not bother with a bra. Her favorite laid on the floor of her bathroom. She would never be able to wear it again. She couldn't.

Too wide-eyed and scared to sleep, she curled up in a ball on the floor trying not to think. Her body started convulsing. She was so frightened. She knew she needed to do something. It was curled up in that ball when she decided what to do and what she wanted. She wanted revenge. No one had the right to do that to her. She wanted him to feel the same pain that she did. She wanted to rip his throat out and make him suffer. She wanted him dead.

But how would she go about this?

She needed to make a call.

Yes this is short! It's only the Prologue!

Please, please please review. And pointers/help would be lovely. Sorry for any errors.