Prompt 59--Desolate
Sep. 8th, 2007 10:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseTitle: Desolation
Fandom: None--OC
Rating: NC-17 for sexual themes (although nothing explicit)
Warnings: Elements of kidnapping, child molestation/rape, abuse and murder-Please do not read if these things will squick you.
Summary: There are so many things that I'll never get to do...
DARK FIC WARNING AHEAD
Again, the muse took this to hand and wrote something entirely different than what I actually wanted to write. Blame her, the twisted evil bitch that she is. (I want a nice muse like Astra--if you run across one, send her my way)
It was a desolate, deserted place that he brought me to the first time that he touched me. The feelings that were coursing through me cannot be described in words; they are a pitiable method of communication anyway, never touching on the nuances of thought and feeling. Words are stark and harsh when it comes to what motivated him to do what he did.
There was sand for miles, as far as the eye could see. I knew that he needed silence and secrecy, if for no other reason than to keep my screams from being heard by anyone. The landscape was dotted with small bushes that would become tumbleweeds if the wind blew hard enough and cacti that held little moisture after the long drought that had paralyzed the country. I knew that even if I managed to get away from him, there was nowhere for me to run; I would be seen and caught long before I got far enough away to hide.
The ropes are too tight around my wrists and I know that there will be marks when they come off—if they come off. As it is, I know that since I’ve seen his face, he may not be so forgiving to let me go. I can’t feel my feet anymore—they went to sleep just minutes after he tied them together and I know that if I was able to look at them, they would be a beautiful shade of purplish blue—the same color of my prom dress that he complimented me on when I was leaving with my date.
I always knew that there was something creepy about him. The way that he watched me in the back yard always made goosebumps flutter over my skin, and not in a good way. Not the way that Jason made me feel. He made me feel cherished and lovely, like a woman; not like a piece of meat, a thing like he’s making me feel. I can feel him staring at me over the back seat and I shiver, even in the heat.
It’s so hot with the blanket over me that I’m not sure that I can keep breathing. The air is so heavy under here that it hurts to pull it in and push it out but I keep doing it, over and over. I hope that he’ll take it off of me soon before I pass out just from the heat, even though he left my head uncovered. I guess that he forgot that we were in the desert, though it was his plan to begin with. Some guys just think with their dicks, not their heads—I didn’t know that he was one of them.
He cuts the engine and sits there at the wheel talking to himself and I wonder what he’s saying, exactly. I can’t hear his voice over the blood rushing through my ears and I can feel my heart pounding faster and faster until it hurts.
Suddenly the door at my feet opens and he yanks me out of the car. My head bumps the hump on the floorboard and I can’t even begin to rub away the hurt because I’m hitting the sand with all my weight on my ass and my head. God, I’m going to be bruised tomorrow—if there is a tomorrow.
A glint of silver catches my eye and I feel the rope around my feet fall away. “You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you?” Even his question sends chills up my spine and I nod, hoping that if I play along, I won’t be hurt. Optimistic to the end. He cuts the rope on my hands and I flex my fingers and stare up at the man that has been my best friend’s father and my neighbor since I was born. Seventeen years I have known him—I’ve ate at his table, slept under his roof, giggled with his daughter, but right now he is a stranger.
There’s a look in his eye that scares me more than the stuff I’ve imagined could happen all the way out here. It’s a look of lust tempered with guilt, need poisoned by awareness. It’s at that moment that I know for certain that I won’t be leaving this desert. I’m going to die.
He uses the knife on my clothes while I think of all the things that I’ll never get to do. I’ll never go to college. I’ll never get to marry, have a baby, raise a family. I’ll never grow old or get wrinkles. I’ll lose my virginity, although not to the man I hoped it would be—instead it will be to someone that I trusted for years.
Instead of watching what he’s doing, I close my eyes and imagine other things. My mother and father, going about their lives and never knowing that such evil exists in the world. My little brother and sister, living next door to a killer and rapist and never realizing that he did horrible things to me before I died. My dog. Maybe my dog will be able to tell—he never did like Mr. Jenkins that much. Always growled when he came in the house until we had to lock him in the laundry room.
It hurts, but not as bad as I thought it would. I’m just sick at my stomach and hoping that it’s over soon.
Something sticky splashes me and I turn my head and vomit. The sour smell lingers in my mouth but at least I can’t smell the stench of his sweat anymore.
I know it’s time now. I can hear him talking to himself again, this time louder. He’s saying that nobody can know, nobody can ever know, but I do. I know and that’s one too many people.
I stop listening and think of my family and friends and Jason who will never know that I love him. I always have. I just never said the words. I concentrate on the sun and it burns my eyes, a ball of white light that grows larger in my vision and before I know it, it’s done.
Even as my heartbeat slows and my breathing becomes shallower by the second, I hear the car start up and drive away. Dark shadows block the sun, circling overhead. I hope that they at least wait until I’m…
Fandom: None--OC
Rating: NC-17 for sexual themes (although nothing explicit)
Warnings: Elements of kidnapping, child molestation/rape, abuse and murder-Please do not read if these things will squick you.
Summary: There are so many things that I'll never get to do...
DARK FIC WARNING AHEAD
Again, the muse took this to hand and wrote something entirely different than what I actually wanted to write. Blame her, the twisted evil bitch that she is. (I want a nice muse like Astra--if you run across one, send her my way)
It was a desolate, deserted place that he brought me to the first time that he touched me. The feelings that were coursing through me cannot be described in words; they are a pitiable method of communication anyway, never touching on the nuances of thought and feeling. Words are stark and harsh when it comes to what motivated him to do what he did.
There was sand for miles, as far as the eye could see. I knew that he needed silence and secrecy, if for no other reason than to keep my screams from being heard by anyone. The landscape was dotted with small bushes that would become tumbleweeds if the wind blew hard enough and cacti that held little moisture after the long drought that had paralyzed the country. I knew that even if I managed to get away from him, there was nowhere for me to run; I would be seen and caught long before I got far enough away to hide.
The ropes are too tight around my wrists and I know that there will be marks when they come off—if they come off. As it is, I know that since I’ve seen his face, he may not be so forgiving to let me go. I can’t feel my feet anymore—they went to sleep just minutes after he tied them together and I know that if I was able to look at them, they would be a beautiful shade of purplish blue—the same color of my prom dress that he complimented me on when I was leaving with my date.
I always knew that there was something creepy about him. The way that he watched me in the back yard always made goosebumps flutter over my skin, and not in a good way. Not the way that Jason made me feel. He made me feel cherished and lovely, like a woman; not like a piece of meat, a thing like he’s making me feel. I can feel him staring at me over the back seat and I shiver, even in the heat.
It’s so hot with the blanket over me that I’m not sure that I can keep breathing. The air is so heavy under here that it hurts to pull it in and push it out but I keep doing it, over and over. I hope that he’ll take it off of me soon before I pass out just from the heat, even though he left my head uncovered. I guess that he forgot that we were in the desert, though it was his plan to begin with. Some guys just think with their dicks, not their heads—I didn’t know that he was one of them.
He cuts the engine and sits there at the wheel talking to himself and I wonder what he’s saying, exactly. I can’t hear his voice over the blood rushing through my ears and I can feel my heart pounding faster and faster until it hurts.
Suddenly the door at my feet opens and he yanks me out of the car. My head bumps the hump on the floorboard and I can’t even begin to rub away the hurt because I’m hitting the sand with all my weight on my ass and my head. God, I’m going to be bruised tomorrow—if there is a tomorrow.
A glint of silver catches my eye and I feel the rope around my feet fall away. “You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you?” Even his question sends chills up my spine and I nod, hoping that if I play along, I won’t be hurt. Optimistic to the end. He cuts the rope on my hands and I flex my fingers and stare up at the man that has been my best friend’s father and my neighbor since I was born. Seventeen years I have known him—I’ve ate at his table, slept under his roof, giggled with his daughter, but right now he is a stranger.
There’s a look in his eye that scares me more than the stuff I’ve imagined could happen all the way out here. It’s a look of lust tempered with guilt, need poisoned by awareness. It’s at that moment that I know for certain that I won’t be leaving this desert. I’m going to die.
He uses the knife on my clothes while I think of all the things that I’ll never get to do. I’ll never go to college. I’ll never get to marry, have a baby, raise a family. I’ll never grow old or get wrinkles. I’ll lose my virginity, although not to the man I hoped it would be—instead it will be to someone that I trusted for years.
Instead of watching what he’s doing, I close my eyes and imagine other things. My mother and father, going about their lives and never knowing that such evil exists in the world. My little brother and sister, living next door to a killer and rapist and never realizing that he did horrible things to me before I died. My dog. Maybe my dog will be able to tell—he never did like Mr. Jenkins that much. Always growled when he came in the house until we had to lock him in the laundry room.
It hurts, but not as bad as I thought it would. I’m just sick at my stomach and hoping that it’s over soon.
Something sticky splashes me and I turn my head and vomit. The sour smell lingers in my mouth but at least I can’t smell the stench of his sweat anymore.
I know it’s time now. I can hear him talking to himself again, this time louder. He’s saying that nobody can know, nobody can ever know, but I do. I know and that’s one too many people.
I stop listening and think of my family and friends and Jason who will never know that I love him. I always have. I just never said the words. I concentrate on the sun and it burns my eyes, a ball of white light that grows larger in my vision and before I know it, it’s done.
Even as my heartbeat slows and my breathing becomes shallower by the second, I hear the car start up and drive away. Dark shadows block the sun, circling overhead. I hope that they at least wait until I’m…
no subject
Date: 2007-09-09 09:59 pm (UTC)I knew that he needed silence and secrecy He did.
I know and that’s one too many people. She was.
This is horrifically beautiful and well written, horribly final and tragically vivid in your portrayal. I don't know how you do it. This will stay with me forever.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 05:55 am (UTC)The strangest thing...this was not the story that I set out to write. I started with something else and this showed up about a third of the way into it. I cut off the first part and posted it just like it was.
Must be all those true crime stories and television shows that I watch. Thank you so much for your comment--glad that it was a piece that will stick with you.