RachAbout ten years ago, Rach and her boyfriend were traveling when they stayed at a small, remote beachside complex. Out of season, they were the only guests. At first, the owner seemed friendly, even lending them fishing rods. But later, drunk, he returned with disturbing behavior, making crude remarks and asking them to kiss in front of him. Uneasy, they decided to avoid him as much as possible.
One evening, when their fishing line got tangled, Rach’s boyfriend insisted she go back to ask the owner for help. Reluctantly, she did. The owner, heavily drunk, pulled her inside his room, forced her onto a bed, and pressed his hands around her neck, claiming he was giving her a “massage.” Rach was terrified, trapped under his heavy body, his breath close to her face. Somehow, she convinced him to stop and escaped.
When she told her boyfriend, he reacted with anger, questioning why she hadn’t just run away, as if blaming her for what had happened. With nowhere else to go, they returned late that night, only to find the owner still drunk, screaming and smashing things around. Rach didn’t sleep. At sunrise, they slipped away quietly.
She and her boyfriend never spoke of it again, but even years later, the fear of that night has stayed with her.
