This story is definately very different to my others. Now don't worry when you read it, i'm not depressed!
This story is about love, life and death. (although mainly love!) It is based on a play i once did called Fen and is about 5 girls (the main characters) and their lives in a small village.
The first few drops splattered across her already cold face. She closed her eyes and curled up tighter into her thin, torn sleeping bag. The tree was the best shelter she could find at such short notice, but the storm was getting to heavy for the tree to protect her from all of the rain. Slowly but surely, she was going to get wet. As the drops grew heavier Emma slipped into her dreamlike state. It was the only way she could get away from the never-ending nights. She could see in her head the warm rooms, a massive open fire place with a roaring fire keeping the cold out. The comfy sofas and the lovers lying cuddled up to each other on the soft material, the woman staring into the fire, the light flickering across her gentle face and the man, gazing lovingly at her long, wavy hair. She pictured herself being that woman, living that luxurious life. The man leaning down to kiss her on her forehead in the morning, the massive meals they would share.
A rumbling in the distance drew her out of her perfect world. She slowly opened her eyes. She could barely see through the blanket of rain which was falling much more heavily now. As her eyes began to focus she picked out a dark shape making its way towards her. She sat up. The carriage burst its way out of the blanket and into the shelter of the trees. As it swerved in front of her, a spray of mud splattered up her sodden clothes and across her face. The driver must have spotted her as the carriage stopped a short distance from where she was lying. She heard laughing from inside the black box and as the door opened she heard a gruff voice yell out,
“You all right, darling?” It was slurred, the man was drunk. It was shortly followed by another quick succession of laughter. The man who had asked her the question stumbled down the carriage steps and was joined by two other men. Emma stood up and began to edge away. Drunken men on a dark night weren’t a good sign. But no sooner had she taken a few steps back, two of the men had grabbed her and dragged her back.
“Trying to run? You know I quite fancy a pretty face like yours.” The other men chuckled. The man, who was quite clearly their leader, stepped forewords and pressed his rough lips against hers. She tried to pull away but the other men held her firm. Instead she bit down on the man’s lips. He drew away quickly and grabbed hold of her face.
“You little bitch.” It seemed quite well rehearsed. He gave a nod to the two men who immediately began to tear of her clothes. She screamed and tried to pull away but the men’s grip was too tight. When she was finally naked the men dragged her onto the floor and pinned her down. The man pulled down his trousers and lay down on top of her.
It was over quite quickly. Tears were streaming out of Emma’s eyes and every now and again she let out a little sob, but they were finished. As they walked off she curled up into a tight ball. It’s over, it’s over, she kept repeating over and over again in her head. But it wasn’t.
“I’m quite disappointed in you.” She gasped as she looked up.
“No struggle, no screaming. Where’s the fun in that?” The man was stood above her and as she looked around she saw the other men behind her. The man crouched down, placing his hand around her neck. She raised her own hands and grabbed hold of his wrists, feebly attempting to prise his hand free.
“Please. Leave me alone.” She managed to gasp.
He laughed. A waft of alcohol made it too her nose. “You deserve it. Your just scum. A street rat.” He let go and brought his foot into her stomach. She fell back to the floor as she screamed and tried to draw breath, but she was winded. Instead she began to choke. The men laughed and began taking it in turns to kick. A foot to her face brought a broken nose and blood began to run across her face, into the mud below. Blood mixed with mud and mud rubbed across her bare body, mixed into her knotted hair. When the men were done they left a broken body, barely recognisable as the girl who had lain there earlier.