|
|
|
 Screaming was the only thing heard in the halls and grounds of the Mulsen estate every other night. Should someone look through a window whilst the screaming was happening, he or she would see objects flying everywhere from the hands of an intoxicated man, who would be screaming at a woman who sat curled up in a corner, crying her eyes out. The man would be calling her a whore, accusing her of sleeping with his friends, and using any insult he could. Then, he would rush toward her with a knife in hand to threaten her should he not get his way with her.
This made the woman cry even more, and she would bury her face in her hands, or try to escape the room. The man would grab her wrist then, cutting her clothes into strips until they all fell off of her. Him undressing came next, and then the final act of rape.
The only thing that would save this woman, Helena, would be if she could get away from this house, and that was not possible for her. Her family had disowned her for marrying this man, as most of her friends had stopped speaking with her after the wedding. It had been six months since the wedding, and Helena's husband revealed his habit of overaccessively drinking, as well as his abusive attitudes. He would beat her in fits of rage, for nothing whatsoever. She didn't know what she had done wrong. In all of the beatings, she seemed to have gone seclusive, hiding all of her emotions, and never speaking to anyone. Because she was unable to leave the grounds, help was not given to her. Slowly, she grew to the point of silent insanity, tortured in her head as past scenes played over and over in her head.
The only escape that Helena had was the field behind the house, which grew wild with flowers and tall grass. She would go out on days her husband left the house to do business, wandering aimlessly, lost in her listless thoughts, indulging in her private sanctuary.
He had said that he loved her. He had promised to protect her from harm.
It was all a lie.
Only one person stayed true to her throughout the whole thing, and had witnessed firsthand her husband's acts. That was completely incidental, though, and Helena was unaware that he knew, though her husband surely did. Threats to report the behaviour were made.
Helena was sick of it.
Her husband arrived at home late, already drunk, holding a half-empty Jack Daniel's whiskey bottle in his hand. As he advanced on her, she ran away from him, obviously faster than a man that has distorted vision and is unable to control his actions because of the amount of alcohol he had consumed. She reached the bedroom, locking the door behind her, grabbing her phone on her way to the bathroom in the room, and dialing her friend's number mindlessly. She had memorized it, having dialed his number so often to talk and then hanging up. This time, she planned on staying on the phone.
Helena needed help.
When she heard the other line pick up, she immediately cried into the phone in a panic, "Hello?! Hello?!"
[PM me to continue. Be male, literate, and please be the friend. No one-liners, though your reply doesn't have to be as long as this. A minimum of two well-constructed paragraphs, please. smile ]
 i b i r t h d a y s e x · Sat Jun 06, 2009 @ 05:09pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
