The Rape of Proserpine
Thirteen
I did not fear death, for when Marel disappeared, I went with him. No, death wasn’t my greatest fear. All the memories I kept inside my head of Marel, one by one, like dominos, being taken away from me: that, and the gnawing probability that it would happen, was slow, painful death in itself. I could not bear to think that one day, I would wake up and look at myself in the mirror and realize that once upon a time, I had a brother who looked just like me… and then nothing.
“What do you want to become when you grow up?” I had asked Marel on the bus, we were kids then, so young and reckless, with no cares about the world.
“A doctor,” he had said simply. “What about you Darrel?”
I pretended to think hard. I even put my thumb and index finger together to rub at my chin. Giving him a serious expression, I answered. “I want to become a porn star.”
It was the first time in years since when we were toddlers that he pinched both my cheeks so hard that I nearly screamed and cried. Later, at home, I kicked his butt.
“Marel,” I whispered to myself, my voice drowned out by the hammering rain. “I’m so sorry.” I ran, splashing puddles of water and mud all over my body. I felt cold, frozen from the inside out. The trail was slippery, my wet feet already getting squishy inside my shoes. I’ve stumbled a few times, but went on without as much as a groan. The clearing was right in the middle of the forest, the pine tree towering like a church spire. I ran, feeling invincible.
“I don’t like River.”
“Well, I don’t like Kenon.”
Marel and I were lying on our backs on the roof, watching the sky turn from a deep blue to purple. He sighed miserably beside me, thinking of a way to make me change my mind about River and Kenon.
“I don’t think River’s a bad guy… but he could be.” I stood up immediately, nearly falling over, and left him alone without a word.
The harsh rain blurred my vision. Small, sharp twigs sticking out here and there scraped at my naked arms and face, but I didn’t mind. They meant nothing to me, while my brother… he meant the world.
"Happy Birthday!" Both of us greeted at the same time, making our parents and us laugh so hard.
“I got you a present.” Marel threw a medium sized box wrapped in fancy blue paper at me. I caught it with both hands and grinned widely.
“Is this what I think it is?”
He shrugged; the twinkle in his eyes and the stupid smile plastered on his face betraying him. “Open it.”
Five seconds later, we were drinking orange juice using identical coffee mugs. The bastard knew I was giving him a mug with a picture of himself, so he got me the same exact one, only the face on the picture had a different eye color. My eye color. Best birthday present I ever had.
A sob escaped my lips while tears I had saved up for more than a year spilled out of my eyes, mingling with the rain running on my cheeks. In the end, Marel had successfully made me cry, only with his memories flashing before my eyes. Our memories together. Memories of us I desperately cling to and replay every night before I close my eyes to sleep.
My knees suddenly buckled, making me drop down to the dirt. I screamed, tearing my lungs apart.
“Break up with Colleen, Marel. She’s a whore, and you know it.”
His jaw clenched, the way I did whenever I restrain myself. “I love her.”
I imitated him, as if either of us was looking at a mirror. We played this game a lot when we were kids, outgrowing it after a couple of years. And here we were, teens, doing it again.
“That’s the dumbest, most idiotic, moronic-”
“I love Colleen, Darrel.” I was struck speechless. His declaration of his love for her was a declaration that Marel loved her more than he loved me.
That simple statement pushed me to taste my first weed. It made me high, lifted my feet off of the ground literally. My brother…why did it hurt so much inside to hear him say that? Why?
I forced myself to get up, to move, to go on. I groaned, feeling my muscles ache in alarming pain. Marel was too young to die. He didn’t deserve to leave this plane yet. Tears and rain pricked at my eyes as I stumbled onwards, my fingertips getting numb. I followed the footpath, and in a few minutes I reached the edge of the clearing, the pine tree at its axis.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, Darrel. Did I wake you?”
I smiled and crept out of bed, glancing at the clock on my nightstand as I did; 11:30 pm. “No, I was awake. Why are you calling? How’s New York?”
“Fun, I guess.” There was silence, save for our breathing. Marel was in a tour for aspiring medicine students sponsored by Appleton Gen, separating us for about three days. It was the first night. “I can’t sleep.”
“Yeah? Me too,” I chuckled, opening my window to let the cold, humid breeze from the woods to come in my room.
“I’ve gotten so used to your snoring I couldn’t sleep without it now.” We both laughed at our own inside joke. God, I sorely missed him already.
“Marel.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re full of shit.”
“You too.”
We both fell asleep at the same time, our phones pressed tightly on our ears, listening to each other’s soft breathing.
He didn’t deserve to just vanish like a litter in the streets. I didn’t deserve to lose him. He didn’t deserve to get torn away from us. Marel and I…I didn’t even get the chance to say I loved him.
XXXX
In the beginning, Appleton was not Appleton. The whole place; half scrap land, half marshes full of mangroves, frogs, and towering trees as ancient as the earth itself, was called ‘The Grove.’
No one liked to inhabit it, and those who dared were considered lunatics. The summers were scorching hot, enough to kill anyone of heat stroke. The winters were as cold and wicked; the fine, powdery snow capable of blanketing the whole town, including its residents. But the seasons in between the two extremes were glorious and blissful. A perfect lure to our ancestors. Moths attracted to the brightness and promise of the flame.
As time passed by, civilization blossomed; families grew and ruled the soil of The Grove. But what the early settlers of Appleton, its founders, didn’t realize was the fact that success breeds evil; that the penalty of raising The Grove into something of value could be severe.
As I walked up to where the mighty pine tree stood, I couldn’t help but remember the stories our grandparents told us by the porch while watching the setting of the sun on the horizon. Stories I thought were phony and crap. Stories that brought chills to run up and down my spine whenever I glimpsed at the massive tree.
I approached it stoically; raised my palm to touch its trunk, feeling its power and strength. In this part of the woods, the rustling of the leaves was magnified. As if the trees were whispering to each other. Gossiping. Laughing. Mocking. I shivered when an audible laugh pierced through the murmur of the woods, the voice unrecognizable from the continuous pounding in my ears. I snatched my hand back and spun around, seeing nothing but shadows and swaying branches and slanting rain.
I waited.
“Stay away from ‘the tree,’ both of you.” The wrinkled face of my grandmother coming alive in my memory. “Snakes lurk in that place.”
I swallowed, balled my fists and circled the enormous tree with determined strides.
“She stayed too far from her companions,” I heard my grandma’s voice, silky and thick as honey.
I couldn’t make out if there really was anyone here with me. After I circled the tree, I waited more.
“She was attacked by snakes hiding in the roots of the huge tree. It was said that the snakes had been waiting for her.”
I didn’t dare close my eyes. I turned in place, the freezing cold forgotten. Nothing.
“They found her two days after, her body rotting. They said her eyes were open, looking up at the clouds in the sky vacantly.”
“Come out!” I finally yelled. “I’m not scared of you!”
“Her husband was devastated. Even tried to kill himself.”
“It’s me you wanted! Get me now!” I ran around, searching.
“And then he started going to the spot where they found his wife’s dead body. Each day, no matter what the weather was, he would go there and bring an apple as an offering. A sacrifice. A commemoration.”
I tripped on a rock, my left shoe slipping out of my foot. I didn’t notice. I just kept on yelling, fresh tears falling down, hot and salty with unsuppressed emotions.
“Poor man. He got himself driven out of town by the mob, thinking he was crazy. Probably was, but still… poor man.”
I broke down, the laughter coming again, seemingly from behind the trees everywhere. “Why don’t you get me, coward! Face me!”
“It’s a town secret. And town secrets hold something more than just history, sons.”
“Who are you?! Show yourself!”
Footsteps resounded to my right, faint but enough to be noticed. I sprinted, my bare foot getting cuts and deep wounds. I entered the cluster of trees, my breathing coming out in short gasps. Nothing. I looked from left to right repeatedly, my eyes narrowed, my head beginning to throb. I was getting dizzy. I plunged deeper into the darkness, the rain hitting me everywhere. Confusing sounds filled the chilly air. A thick layer of mist was floating from off the ground. Still nothing.
Leaning on a tree to catch my breath, I closed my eyes for a brief moment to listen hard. All I could hear now was the damn rain and my echoing heartbeat. I cursed and turned back, only to fall back down sluggishly as a man in a ski mask pushed me like I was a bowling pin. I screamed in pain as my back hit at something sharp and painful. My eyes were partially open to see a full set of teeth, smiling down at me.
I scrambled to get up but my elbows, only managing an inch to lift my torso off the ground, fell back down again as a blast of pain pummeled me in the stomach. The man’s foot stomped on me once, hard enough to knock my consciousness out, but I hang on. I grabbed at his foot and pulled with all my might, making the masked man to stumble backwards and lose his balance. Seizing the opportunity, I shoved the guy down on the muddy ground, something which he had not expected me to do and started connecting my fists to his face. He tried to scamper to his feet but to no avail. I lost all sense of control and humanity within me. I surrendered my total being to the unfathomable rage boiling in my core. Death. I wanted death laced with painful suffering and misery for this person who took my brother away from us; from me.
“Fuck you!” I spat, my vision turning black. “Fuck you!”
Arms grabbed my hands from behind and dragged me from the one on the ground, my knuckles dripping with red, pulsating blood. I struggled and kicked at anything. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t feel. I just moved and thrashed. It was like I was being possessed by demons.
“Get off me! Fuck you! Let me go! I’ll kill-”
The man I attacked started to get up and charge for me, his hands covering my mouth to silence my cries. I bit his palm, ripping the flesh with my teeth, the metallic taste of the blood lingering on my tongue.
“Shit!” The man voiced in agony for the first time. “Bind him,” he ordered the second guy, the one holding my arms in my back in a twisted form.
Sounds and words of protests echoed as they tied my wrists and ankles with thick ropes. I struggled to free myself, but it was no use. I lay crumpled on the dirt, the ropes cutting through my skin. I screamed for help, for anything, but they were deaf to it. I even called for Marel, eliciting a laugh from the two masked persons staring at me.
“Poor thing,” one of them mumbled in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“Who are you?! Untie me!”
The first man nodded at his accomplice. The second man reached behind his back and produced a thin cloth. My eyes went wide when I realized what they were about to do. “No! Stop! Uugghhnngg!” The man knelt near my head and wrapped the cloth around, making sure to pass it tightly in between my lips, muffling the sounds I was making. My body trembled and I unconsciously bit at the wet material, summoning all my energy to try and break free.
In my mind, I saw myself. Helpless. Pitiful. Feeble. I was at their mercy and they knew it. The first man raked his fingers through my soaking hair, then suddenly grabbed a fistful to jerk my head upwards to have a full view of my stained face. I stared back contemptuously before he pushed my face hard against the ground, my lips and cheeks grazing at the sharp pebbles. I bit harder at the cloth, refusing to show them how weak and vulnerable I was now.
They laughed in frenzy, their eyes black orbs of malice. It was clear that they could smell my fear, like how sharks could smell the stench of blood in the ocean. One of them grabbed another handful of my hair and yanked my head back. I closed my eyes involuntarily from the enormous amount of pain going through my head to toe. And then that someone whispered in my ear. “No, Darrel, fuck you.”
In the middle of the night, in the middle of the forest, my cries went unheard as they dragged me by my feet. No one, to my greatest disdain, was around to notice my captivity as the residents of Appleton dazzled and reveled at the appearance of Narcissa Sinclair at their doorstep.
Another Connelly vanished.
I was gone, the rain washing away any trace of the crime to oblivion.