The Rape of Proserpine
Sixteen
By a streak of fortune, it was over too soon. Too soon my world had changed yet again, and within my bones, I could feel that it was far from the end. Of what, though? More misfortune? Repeated humiliation? A series of act defiling what became of me? I had no idea but this terrible foreboding wrapped around me like a thin sheet of sweat glistening and glittering, reflecting the sole lamp casting a mellow glow around the room. It was indeed over…almost…but not quite.
“I’m sorry,” he said it again, barely a whisper. I shut my eyes tightly and tried to forget everything. But forgetting with force is much of an act of remembering. Of playing it all over again in the head, behind closed eyelids, in the deep darkness of the mind’s vision. “Darrel…”
I screamed. And just like that the memories fluttered like feathers in the passing breeze. Again.
It was like waking up from a nightmare only to find out that the nightmare was but a dream and what you woke up to was the real thing. The nightmare of all nightmares. The monster inside the closet. The dead, little girl under the bed at midnight. The ghosts of Appleton that smiled and greeted the unsuspecting citizens in the middle of the street. The very person I knew and talked to and smiled at…I should’ve known. But how could I? How could he be the one? Why?
I wanted to ask him, but didn’t. Instead, I let him use me like a toy. At the first few seconds of seeing his eyes, my brain turned to slime. I couldn’t formulate a simple thought. Those eyes which I found mesmerizing were staring down at me as I was being violated. The seconds became minutes and with it came the outpouring of rational thoughts. I remembered describing those very eyes. I searched for the words, trying to recall that day. Yes, those eyes. Bit by bit through a whole lot of rummaging, I found them scattered around the blackness of my consciousness like stars decorating the gloomiest of night. And then it came back. Those eyes the same color as a clear, blue sky. I could never mistake it for somebody else’s. It was his eyes. Despite myself, I had a difficult time believing what was happening. My wrists were tied to the bedposts, my body as naked as it could get, with him on top of me, touching me, whispering, raping me. My mouth opened, eyes widened in total recognition, and then quite suddenly and unexpectedly, my back arched and lifted my torso aloft the bed in the process. I tried to suppress the scream bellowing out of my throat and lips, but it came, anyway: a scream of intense pleasure that blinded my eyes with white light and burned my body with unholy fire.
I’ve never felt so disgusted at myself.
Rough hands worked me in a soundless rhythm. I fought the fire that seized and corrupted not only my being but also my soul. I bit my lip to dampen the blazing embers of the furnace with a bucket of searing pain. But the forbidden fruit was far too luscious and tempting that my flesh begged for me to let go and burst in electric sparks that could go on in infinity. The flesh knew the weaknesses of another’s flesh. Little by little, as his hands played the strings to produce a music I’ve never heard before, I felt my spirit slipping down the precipice roaring with wild fire. Tongues of hot particles licked at every inch of my skin, urging me to go on and enjoy the immense heat. Consuming heat of no return. The fire pit of hell came to earth to claim me as its victim. A bittersweet struggle of body and soul. Faster and harder the flaming comets fell from the sky like hail to ignite and feed the hunger and thirst of the earth. I felt helpless. Powerless. Bare. Flashes of lightning surged higher and higher causing my toes to curl, my body to tense and spasm, my fingers to grasp at the ropes, my heart to pump quickly, my sweat to cover me and boil me as I neared the ending of all things known. So near, very near. I could almost touch the summit with the tip of my finger. No, I shouldn’t. Almost there. The air surrounding me sizzled and frazzled. I bit my tongue painfully, preventing my advance in vain. Too late now. Faster. Higher. Stronger. Harder. The motions were beyond me now. My head turned sideways in equal speed. The echoing thuds of the drums inside my ears blasted and rang. One more stroke. One more touch. One more heave. And the world fell apart with a cry of pain, pleasure and agony that tore through me, breaking everything in its path. The more that flame was covered up, the hotter it burned. And it burned me good. Calvin Archibald engulfed me in an excruciating carousel of red flames. Flames…Calvin…fire…
“I’m sorry.”
Innocence was shattered…forever.
I thought I’d cry, but no tear dared spill down my cheeks. In a way, I felt…empty. A vessel with nothing inside, not even air. I asked myself what happened repeatedly, but no answer came at hand. What happened? Darrel, are you there? Are you…alive?
At that exact second, I, Darrel Connelly, laughed like a savage. As if on cue, the people I never realized were there, watching, joined me in a chorus of demonic laughing. All of us except Calvin were in a frenzy to out-laugh each and everybody. A cold and soulless congregation of mirthful people. I wasn’t entirely sure if what I did was natural. My lungs that panted and clawed for oxygen rose and fell madly. Maybe I was bleeding from the inside and all I could do was laugh it off because crying was reserved only for the innocent. I was no longer one. Innocent no more, Darrel. You’re broken irreparably. I’m so damn sorry. So simple. So easy. I wonder if I should say, ‘Oh, don’t worry about it, Calvin, it’s no big deal. You just jerked me off against my will.’ And then I’d smile sweetly. As if it was really nothing of importance. Nothing at all.
Snapping me back to the present were those two, weightless words again. My eyes captured Calvin’s and for an instant I thought I saw something flash inside those liquid, blue irises. I’ve forgotten the continuous flow of sniggers as I stared, showing and betraying nothing in mine. You stole Marel. You stole my freedom. You stole my trust. You stole myself from me. You stole my everything. You stole my fucking world. I smiled a little…in pity.
“Darrel –“
“Sshh…” Calvin shook his head wildly and a torrent of tears dropped down to my face, washing away all the dirt he hurled at my humanity but not quite reaching my soul. Wash me with your tears, Calvin. Cleanse me with your misery. “Stop crying,” I whispered harshly. Footsteps shuffled out of the room, and then we were alone with the heavy stench of blasphemy hanging in the musty atmosphere. “Sshh…”
Calvin’s tears came hard and fast as were his wracking sobs. He dropped his weight on top of me and clutched at my shoulders as if I’d disappear. Calvin, what have you done to us all? “I’m sorry, Darrel. I’m so sorry. I’m very, very sorry.” It was all he could say. Where did the courage to do what he did to me go? The irony of it. “I’m so –“
I screamed. Demon possessed. Again and again. Screams straight from hell. Still no tears came. I wouldn’t honor him with it.
“Darrel, please, no…don’t scream. Please, Darrel. Please…I won’t hurt you.”
I did not want to pretend, the burden I was carrying in my heart was too strong and words just couldn’t express them enough. So I did what I could. What my stomach could bear. With a final look, I dragged my face up to meet Calvin’s. “Make me forget,” I mumbled softly, pleadingly, our lips grazing against each other. I’ve been rendered insane, judging from Calvin’s expression. “Please.” And then I closed the tiny distance separating our lips. Sealing madness with madness. A respite from all there was.
Falling…falling…falling…