A Short Story
This is the rough form of a short story I threw together. Please be advised that this story could be very triggering for various issues including sexual assault. Be safe and be careful.
The sun had set hours ago, and the cool, crisp darkness reached far and wide that night. But she didn't care. She didn't care for much of anything, these days. Her mother said she was self-absorbed, selfish, cold. But it went much deeper than that, and the girl knew it.
She had been dead for years. She was the walking dead, stumbling about, seeking wamrth and light where none were to be had. But tonight, she would see light. She would see sparks.
Her backpack bounced against her lower back with every purposeful stride. The tools she needed to complete her mission were packed within, along with a seven page letter. Because these days, she knew, it was all about explanations. Nobody ever marvelled at an act itself, but rather, enjoyed the dissection of it. She had spent 3 weeks dissecting it, in the margins of her notebooks while feigning attention, in her diary, in locked computer files that she supposed would be hacked after they learned of her act. But by then, it would be too late.
This would be hers and hers alone, she thought. And she continued down the street, the broken lights creating shadows among beams of pale, jaundiced yellows. She eyed her watch. 45 minutes before anyone would even possibly suspect she was gone. And by then, it would be done. She would be master of her destiny at last.
She turned a familiar corner, and the memories hit like a tidal wave. She struggled to move her limbs as they went weak, flashes and snippets of thoughts and sights disrupting her nervous circuitry. She was back there. With THEM.
"Hey! Sexy! Get over here. We're gonna watch a movie!"
She spun and faced her boyfriend, and laughed. "All right. Just let me grab a drink from the fridge."
"No, no you'll miss the beginning of the flick. I'll go get you one. Todd and Ray are waiting. Go on, have fun."
She hesitated a moment, then kissed him on the cheek. "Okay but hurry up. I want my snuggles you promised me."
She slipped from the hallway into the den, where Todd and Ray were watching a movie she had never seen. The actress was young but unfamiliar. 'Must be one of those Must See TV twats' , she thought, settling beside Todd. The plot began simply enough. A girl moved to a new school and proceeded to break the hearts of many boys.
"Is this a TV movie type deal?", she asked her boyfriend as he returned with her rum and 7-Up.
"No, it's a small independent film. A film studies buddy of mine shot it."
"Wow, really? That's cool shit. Are they going to put it on video?" She took a large gulp of her drink, rolling the flavours on her tongue. Perfectly mixed. He always knew how she liked it.
"Maybe. But for now, he made me a copy." He gestured for her to stand, and took her spot, pulling her onto his lap. "It's a good movie. Kind of twisted."
The four of them sat, drinking, laughing at the girl who was now becoming somewhat of a tramp. She mocked her crimped hair in a party scene, and Ray began insisting she'd picked up her fashion sense from Christina Aguillera. All the while, she grew drowsy. Damn lightweight tolerance! she muttered in her head.
Her eyes were half closed, when she saw the picture change to something she didn't want to see.
The boys at the school weren't amused by the heartbreaker. They kidnapped her, drugged her, and were taking her to a greenhouse on the school property. She knew what was coming before it began. The screams.
She felt sick, but could not stand. Her boyfriend asked if she was okay. She barely managed to shake her head no. "Turn it off, this is gross" she whispered.
"But honey, don't you want to know how your story's going to end?" Ray asked. Her blurry eyes tried to focus on what was in his hands. It almost looked like a gun......
She froze about a block from her destination. Come on, she urged herself. You've been planning this for weeks. Months, even. Don't you chicken out now. It's time. Time to end this. She rubbed her hand over her left leg, over the 4 inch slash of a scar. And in hr mind, she could feel it bleeding again....
When she next awoke, she was in the sunroom in Todd's house. She struggled to open her eyes, and managed to make out her boyfriend standing over her.
"What's going on? What are you doing?" she mumbled. Why was she so damn tired?
"We're going to play a little game, if you will. Don't you want to play?"
"No no no..... I wanna go home......"
Her hands were above her head. She'd seen enough movies of the week to know what would happen now. The sun streamed through the glass above, blinding her, as she felt her insides ripped open, butchered, destroyed.
She wasn't awake for all of it. They apparently, from what they said as they untied her, had each had two turns. She could barely walk, but wasn't sure if it was the alcohol (was it alcohol? or drugs? oh god....) or the fact her legs no longer felt joined. They warned her not to say a word. They had friends who would take care of her little sister, should she breathe a word.
And she had never said a word. Her mother had asked why she no longer saw him. She told her he'd cheated on her. Mother accepted this, and forgot all about the boy with the piercing blue eyes. But she never forgot. She nursed her face, sunburned from hours of direct light. Inside, she died, with her innocence.
She entered the parking lot, and stood by the old oak near the side road leading to the juniour high. She was early. She needed to be.
He was punctual. He didn't expect the 2x4 to the back of his head as he rounded the bend. By the time he'd come to, she was standing over him with the pistol she'd stolen from her father's collection. His eyes widened.
"What... what are you doing?"
"I'm doing to you what you did to me," she said quietly, the muzzle aimed at his head. David and Goliath, she thought. Aimed between the eyes.
"You.... you don't want to do this. You're not a bad person. Look, I was a dick two years ago. I was horrible. I'm sorry =="
"Like hell you are. How many more movies have you made since me, hmmm?"
He didn't answer.
His eyes pleaded for mercy. She had none in her heart or soul for him. She didn't even have any for herself.
"I am going to do to you what you did to me. The sights, the smells, the memories. Dead on the inside, forever a prisoner to a moment in time. That is what I have been. That is what you did. But tonight, it's your turn. You are going to die inside. You are finally going to bear the burden you so richly deserve. Do you remember what you did to me that day?"
"SPEAK THE FUCK UP!"
"We raped you, okay? We raped you."
She nodded, ever vigilant for any sudden moves he might make, "Yes. Yes you did. And now? You're about to pay for it. You are going to finally get the punishment you so richly deserve. You are going to die. Die like I did."
Still weak from the blow to the head, his legs and arms, he now realized were tied, and he knew he wouldn't get away. He closed his eyes and prayed to die quickly. He heard the shot.
He heard the thud.
His eyes opened, and immediately shut again. Oh fuck, she'd killed herself. Fuck! What was she thinking? Fuck!
He shouted for help, but knew that she was dead. She'd blown her head clear off. He heard footsteps, the dangle of a dog collar. He shouted to the passerby, who came to his side within moments. He dialed 911 on his cell phone, and worked at untying the somewhat beaten boy on the ground.
He couldn't stop staring at her body.
Then, he knew. She'd killed him without bullets.
"I am going to do to you what you did to me. The sights, the smells, the memories. Dead on the inside, forever a prisoner to a moment in time. That is what I have been. That is what you did. But tonight, it's your turn. You are going to die inside."
When the police arrived, they found a backpack containing a tape recorder, still running. A half eaten sandwich. And an envelope. Opening it, they found various letters to friends, family. And another, addressed to "whoever wants to know why". Opening the small white envelope, they found nothing, save a scrap of paper, a single sentence scrawled upon it:
"Two with one stone"