“How did I get myself into this situation?”

“Look at your dress. Look at your hair. You oughtta know you would attract attention from someone like me. What were you doin’ in the parking lot at seven-thirty in the morning? You’re so fucking stupid.”

Donna thought he was right in a way. It was her fault for offering him a ride. She had herself to blame for what was going to happen. Then she caught herself and realized he was taking her on a guilt trip. She’d heard of rapists doing this before, and she knew better than to fall for it. But still, she thought, when you’re helpless and scared to death, it’s easy for the guy sitting there with a big gun to make you feel guilty.

She resigned herself to what was going to happen. The thought went through her mind: Well, rape isn’t the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

“By the way,” he said, shocking her out of her thoughts, “my name is Phil.”

She looked straight ahead, not turning to see his face.

He shouted at her: “I said my name is Phil!”

She shook her head. “I don’t really care what your name is. I don’t think I want to know it.”

He told her to get out of the car. Then, as he searched her pockets, he said, “As a nurse, I bet you could get a lotta speed. ”

She didn’t answer.

“Get into the back of the car,” he ordered.

Donna began to talk quickly as she got into the rear, hoping she could distract him by conversation. “Do you like art?” she asked. “I really like art. I’m a part-time potter. I work with clay. ” She talked on and on hysterically, but he seemed not to hear what she was saying.

He made her pull down her white pantyhose, and she was almost grateful he didn’t make it even more humiliating by forcing her to disrobe completely.

“I don’t have any diseases,” he said as he unzipped his fly.

It stunned Donna that he would say such a thing. She felt like screaming at him: I have diseases. I have all kinds of diseases. But by now she felt he was mentally ill, and she was afraid of agitating him further. Well, diseases were the last thing on her mind right now. She just wanted this over and done with.

She was surprised and relieved at how quickly he finished with her.

“You’re fantastic,” he said. “You turn me on.” He got out of the car, looked around and told her to get back behind the wheel. “This is the first time I’ve ever raped anybody. I’m more than a guerrilla now. I’m a rapist.”

After a short while, Donna said, “May I get out of the car? I have to urinate.”

He nodded.

“I can’t do it with someone watching me,” she said. “Could you walk away out of sight?”

He did as she asked, and when she returned, she noticed his behavior had changed. He was relaxed, joking. But then he suddenly changed again, assuming the same commanding tone and attitude he’d done before the rape, frightening her with violent talk, using foul language.