Thursday, August 17, 2006
A Girl, A Man and a Woman.
She hears the screams as she's walking to the grocery store.

She doesn't think much of it. There's a daycare, and a small park in the vicinity of the screams.

There's also a trail, and dense woods. And the screaming continues.

But kids scream sometimes-she's been startled by how scary children sound when playing sometimes, their bellows of gladness sounding menacing and worrisome.

She walks on to the store, mentally making her list.

But she can't shake the sound of that girl screaming. She checks "garbage bags" off her list, and hears in her head what sounds like gasping. She reaches for "peanut butter-natural" and thinks about what might be happening.

Perhaps she should check across the road on her way back. Just in case. Just to feel better. If it's just kids, it's just kids. It's like just kids anyway.

She spends the rest of her trip up and down the aisles thinking about justifying crossing the road to herself.

She pays for her groceries, stuffs them in her backpack, and trudges back up the road. She feels her heart accelerate with 'what if's". She finds herself walking slower.

She hears a scream again, but it's lower, and not as pained. She begins to rethink her plan when another scream echoes through the street, and is cut short. She hurries her steps.

She walks towards where the sound come from, past the daycare, past the park, into the woods down the path worn down my ATV's and city trucks. It's an accessroad to sewer access, doesn't go anywhere really, but it's dark and quiet and away from the road.

She walks for a bit, thinks she hears a struggle, then notices birds in the tree ahead. She decides to go 20 more feet, and then go home is she sees nothing. She's just blowing it out of proportion maybe. How many kids scream "you aren't my mommy!" and things like that when mad?

Just ahead, almost out of site she sees a shoe, and a small coat. She drops her own backpack and hurries ahead.

Off the path to the right, just slightly, there was a clearing. And quite clearly, the woman saw a man grappling and raping a small girl. From what she could see, the girl was about 8, but fighting him every moment. She watched him beat the small girl around the face until she relented a bit so he could continue. But her strength came back again and again.

The woman stood transfixed, trying to find her courage within the hate that suddenly burned up her throat. Her eyes met the girls, and she mouthed "Don't move" like the girl had the option anyway.

In one swift move, the woman rushed forward, and dragged the man off by his hair. He was startled, and didn't fight. She threw him down, and aimed her foot for his face. She saw blood before she saw black.

When she came to, the place where his face had been was a bloody mess, his fingers pulpy stumps. But she had not destroyed between his legs. She wiped the blood spatter from her face and turned to face the girl.

She sat mute, terrified, horrified, unable to do much but quiver. Blood was pooling underneath her, and dripped from her nose. The woman bent to her, and wrapped her sweater around her.

"It's ok now. You're safe with me."

The girl tried to speak, found she couldn't. The woman dropped to her knees and looked her in the yes.

"I want you to know that I only found you because you fought. I heard your screams, I heard you fighting, and that brought me to you. People will try and tell you that it was dangerous to fight back, but they're wrong. You rescued yourself. Don't forget that."

The girl nodded, and wiped her own face. "Is....is he alive?" she trembled.

The woman looked down, "Sadly. But I won't call 911 until you have your own revenge."

The girl looked up at her as the Woman reached down to pick her up. Once on her feet, she said "I'm going to give you some time to hurt back now. " She pointed the Girl in the direction of the Man.

The Girl looked down at the Man, and raised her foot over his face. She shook, and couldn't do it. She put her foot down.

The Woman grabbed her then, and shook her. "He just stole your childhood, your innocence, your safety, everything. Take it BACK."

The Girl licked her lips, and turned back to him. He was groaning slightly, and trying to move. He gaze moved down to his still exposed penis, his pants around his ankles, almost off.

She raised her leg, and came down with all the strength she could muster on it. The scream he let loose was almost the same as the ones that had brought the woman to her. She came down again and again and again, until the tears ran free on her face, and the screams she set free were battlecries instead of cries for help. The man stopped moving.

The Girl stopped, and looked at the Woman, who only looked back. The Girl turned, and spit full into the face of the Man, and then crumpled to the ground. The Woman started forward, and realized the Girl had fainted. She sat down and cradled the Girl's head in her lap as she opened up her phone.
posted by thordora @ 9:10 AM   1 comments

Awhile back, a friend and I decided that Radishes, while pretty cool, are never the first pick on the plate, and you certainly can never eat a lot of them. Certain people also fit this criteria. The writings as a byproduct of my manic periods are my radishes.

Moi

Name: thordora
Home: Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada
About Me: Riding a Roller Coaster ridiculously trying to ream repeated rounded consonants out.
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