The White Stag

Drunken Lust

Author's note: Hello Lovelies! I'd like to thank you for all your support and excellent feedback through the story. As most of you probably know, The White Stag is my debut novel. Please note that I have added more to the story. The new parts that I've added tell more about Sterling and who she is presently along with more details of her past. After I asked a critic to review the story for me, I got so many fresh ideas and I absolutely love the improvements that I made. I give my thanks to Miss LilyNait for all of her excellent tips. Enjoy and please tell me what you think of the changes! Be sure to follow LilyNait and vote. If you have any stories that need reviewing, I strongly recommend asking for her help. 

D.O.V

Chapter 1: Drunken Lust

          My name is Sterling. I learned long ago that my life was a mistake. When Momma was twenty two, she had left just a few minutes too late from a friend's apartment. Five minutes earlier, The Man would have still been in the bar and she would have had time to get away. Five minutes earlier and he would still be drinking from his whiskey flask by the pool table.

          Few realize how precious a single minute is. Sometimes I wish that The Man had not seen my lovely young mother shuffling down the block. I wish that he had stayed on his bar stool instead of following her. I'd give anything to change what happened.  The Man had pulled out a knife and had darted at my mother, pulling her screaming into an alley. No one but the insects on the asphalt were there to hear her cry. No one was there to help her as the blade was held to her throat and she was forced down and The Man clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries for help. 

        My mother told the police that she remembered him smelling like alcohol and cigarette smoke. She remembered tasting the dirt on the ground. She remembered feeling the purest terror that she had ever experienced as The Man's bulk held her down. She remembered hearing him take off his belt and drop his pants. She remembered each second of the many painful hours that she lay there, slipping in and out of consciousness. She remembered that everything hurt. She remembered moving her hands away from her throbbing rib cage, seeing the crimson liquid on her hands, and vaguely remembering The Man stabbing her. She told the doctors that no amount of showers could take away the filthy feeling on her body. 

         He probably intended to kill her. He probably intended to leave her there to die so that finding her rapist wouldn't matter to the police. My mother had used every ounce of her failing strength to crawl back to her friend's house. Her blood would lead the police right to the scene of the crime. My mother cried desperately for help and everyone heard Anna scream as she frantically dialed 911 in an attempt to save her dying friend that she had found lying in the fetal position on the stoop. Anna's scream was not muffled by a sweaty palm the way that my mother's was in the alley.

      It wasn't long before the entire apartment building lit up with the lights of terrified tenants. Everyone saw the flashing lights. They all heard the sirens. They all saw the story slapped on the front page of the news paper the following morning. Afterwards, some people were terried to even  go anywhere near the street once everyone knew that there was a rapist on the loose. The ambulance had reached my mother just in time. Five more minutes and she would have lost too much blood. Few realize how precious a single minute is. From my story, you will learn. 

           Because I was born blind, my other senses are enhanced. My hearing, taste, smell and touch are more sensitive than those who can see. The people here call me 'disadvantaged'. Why am I disadvantaged? Why do they call me that? I was born this way and I've never known anything else. If no one had told me differently, I'd never have known what sight was. I would have never known that people could or were supposed to see. Many people here think that just because I can't see, they should pity me and treat me as if I am less intelligent than others my age.