Exquisitely Ruined
A lone woman on a rainy night . An attack that leaves her ruined.
Exquisitely Ruined
I didn't really recall when they'd actually begun following me and I didn't look back at them. I purposely paid them no heed whatsoever, praying they disembark from their chase if I ignored their advances. I quickened my steps, my size sevens barely pattering on the still rain-dampened concrete on that dispassionate October night. I thrust my thin, long-fingered hands into my enlarged Coachman jacket pockets with the false pretense of warming them, in reality, desperately hoping to cease the foolish, incessant trembling of far too dainty hands.
I could only decipher the blaring bray of my own heartbeat flaring like thunder in my eardrums. My static thoughts were jumbled, merging and mingling together until I could no longer think consciously. I could smell the impending precipitation on the frigid air as I tried to escape my guileless admirers. I stepped to a halt, not comprehending what had possessed me to stop so abruptly. I pressed a chilled palm to my overheated forehead. Then I listened to nothing. Silence overwhelmed the horridly lit streets. I heard no footfalls of a stalker on the disgustingly uneven asphalt. 'Where had they gone?' I asked myself, panic and adrenalin pushing me to run further swifter. I could feel the searing glare of their lustful gazes as they watched me from the shadows; I could not see. I swallowed rapidly, freezing sweat clinging to my panic-stricken body, their eyes were everywhere. I could feel them caressing the dips and curves of my body as sure as if they were fingertips. They stalked me as though as I was to be their last meal, starving to taste my flesh.
My breath rasped raggedly from within my fatigued lungs. I clenched a clammy fist to my heaving chest as I forcibly inhaled fresh, mist-moistened oxygen into the distressed organs. I practically catapulted myself around the jagged outcrop of an alley corner, not effectuating that they now stood directly before me until their destructive hands were upon me, grabbing, groping, and violating. I attempted, albeit ineffectively to exonerate myself from their potent grasp. I felt tears of anger and helplessness staining my delicate cheeks and the rain began to fall, tears of the sky seemingly sympathizing with my endeavor.
The unrelenting limbs mercilessly, ruthlessly pinned my body beneath them painfully. They aggressively hauled and shoved at me, tearing relentlessly at my designer clothes with no regard, now worthless and tossing my most recently purchased hand bag aside, scattering its contents across the abyss around us, this endless, dank alleyway which they'd dragged me into, successfully shunting all outside light and possibility of intrusion. I detached myself from my senses wholly and thoroughly as I heard that fateful clank of an unbuckled belt and zip of constricting fly. I didn't struggle, I didn't scream, I didn't give them the disturbed satisfaction of witnessing my despair.
They brutally invaded my body, ripping through my skin as if it were tissue paper, frail and ill-manufactured. I continued to weep inaudibly, but I did not cry out as they defiled me so entirely, so humiliatingly. They moved recklessly within in me for what was millions of desecrated pinpricks minutes, seconds, moments of dreadful agony wracking through my form. Finally finding what they'd been searching, desiring for, reaching their pinnacle, on the edge of an abrupt cliff, before plunging over the that long-since blurred line of morality, releasing their putrid essence inside of my innards. I screwed my eyes shut, vehemently willing the bile rising in my throat to stop its slow trek to the cement beside my scraped cheek. And all the while, the rain fell, and my sinful assailants, my unwanted sadists ran now, in fear of me.
I laid motionless, stagnant, retching on my violently desecrated, terrifically violet, bruised side. Wrapping unconsciously indifferent, aching limbs around my torn and ravaged self, I despairingly fought to revive some remnant, fragment of comfort, safeness I'd once held in my confidence. I felt the drizzle of the rain cleansing and dominating the salt of my unnoticed, inconsequential tears.
And I was splayed, used revoltingly, and abandoned, my tattered skirt shucked up about my waist, stockings long forgotten, my blouse shredded and hanging haphazardly from my palely rounded shoulders, insignificant freckles feathered upon the shivering skin, all of my personal effects sopping and scattered effortlessly around me. I knew in every molecule, every cell of myself, that I would never again be the same. I lingered, exposed in the wetness, hemorrhaging into the puddles swiftly consuming the filth beneath my exhausted body. I was faultlessly broken, bleeding out my indignation, my torment, and at long last I screamed out my utter anguish, the sound recoiling and shattering against the decaying brick, until it disappeared so utterly, forsaking only the stifling softness of the sky's weeping in its wake.
Copy-written to Xander Bradeshaw