A peaceful calm pre-empts all great storms.
It's strange how saying goodbye can make you feel a sense of completeness. Like when you write the final few words to end a story and suddenly everything you felt as you wrote it just becomes distant. It's as if it's suddenly no longer a part of you. All you're left with is a feeling that can only be described as peace.
That was what I was feeling now.
Peace.
I had spent so long chasing my regrets with empty hope that now it felt strange to realise that I had nothing left to pine for. I didn't feel like unfinished business followed me around. Instead I had tied up my loose ends and I knew that all that was left was a fresh start.
Streetlight pierced the darkness around me and a slight chill chased the light breeze that ran through the streets. I could vaguely make out the regal buildings that line the street I had jumped into, and a sign post reading Rochester Bakery jutted out from a darkened shop window.
The tall stone buildings around me were a mix of shops, tea rooms and homes, each giving off an air of high society and high prices.
I knew I would have to find a place to stay for the night, because it wouldn't be wise to simply try and sleep on the streets. Plus I didn't want to risk ruining my new favourite violet dress by coating it with street grime, although I doubted there would be much dirt to be found on the intricately cobbled paths.
I took a deep breath as the last of the tingle wore off, the electric feeling leaked out through my fingertips back into the atmosphere and returning to whatever place it had come from.
I had never really though how I jumped or what is was in me that caused my body to become a walking, talking time machine, but I knew that it was something in me or something attached to my being. It wasn't just a freak of nature. Everything had an explanation and perhaps one day, when I was more settled, I would be able to search out the reason why I had become what I was.
However, now was not the time to contemplate my existence, now was a time to live it.
My leather flats padded along the cobbles as I skipped across the dips and small puddles that had formed. It had obviously rained yesterday and it had left a damp layer on the cobbles causing them to shimmer in the moonlight that would peep out when the clouds moved.
My body felt light and happy as I passed through the streets, heading towards the denser population in a hope of finding some place to stay.
I didn't get far before raucous voices filled the air and tickled my ears with their echoes.
Part of me thought to follow them, but there was something about the masculine tone and loud laughter that made me feel uneasy. I didn't feel comfortable getting any closer to them, but from the increasing strength of their noise I felt I would have no choice but to encounter them and hope that they didn't bother me.
Flashes of Ashton and that horrific night crept from the recesses of my mind, and I found my steps stuttering as I unconsciously tried to avoid the apparently drunken voices. However no matter where I turned they seemed to chase me through the streets. I knew logically that they weren't following me but logic didn't rule my mind now. Instead all that filled it were memories of kicking, screaming, blood, and pain. I could feel my heart racing at the memory of Ashton's hard eyes glinting at me, enjoying my weak attempts of fighting back.
Wherever I walked the voices still crept up on me, becoming clearer by the second. I had no idea where I was going in this town but I soon found myself within the more residential area. The streets were deathly quiet and the glowing windows showed the stark contrast between the warmth and safety within their homely stone walls, and the darkness I stood in with whispers running on the wind and promising me nothing good.
I hurried down a darkened street, heading back towards where I thought I had started.
There I could see them. The end of the street framed their show of drunken stumbling like a picture frame. The tall dark walls of the buildings on either side caused the pool of golden light, which came from the broken streetlamp they stood under, to seem even brighter than it actually was. This meant that my eyes were forced to see them.
They were dressed in the fine uniforms of aristocrats and rich boys. Their bodies clad in suits of the finest fabrics and their hands holding polished expensive canes, though the expensive sticks did nothing to steady their stumbling. They created a perfectly ugly picture of men lost to the dizzying effects of alcohol.
I turned to walk away but before my eyes left their rowdy group I saw an innocent girl walking into their lecherous trap, like a butterfly fluttering unknowingly into a spider's web.
I could see she was beautiful, even though I stood several metres away. Her golden hair was intricately woven onto the top of her head, and she held herself with the good posture that came from mixing in a high society. Her pastel dress and form fitting jacket were simple, but the garment fitted her nicely and the dress flowed prettily around her ankles as she strode carefully towards the group of men.
I crept forward reluctantly. I didn't want to get any closer to the men. In fact I wanted to run as far away from them as possible, but there was something in me that felt I had to be near the girl. I couldn't just leave her to walk into their arms. Drunken men couldn't be trusted; I had enough experience to know that.
"Rose!" A statuesque man called out to the girl and she edged closer to them, her lovely face showing a mix of confusion, anger and worry. She didn't want to be near them, just as I didn't, but she didn't have the ability to just walk away like me. They seemed to know her and that meant she was pulled towards them against her will. The butterfly had its wings trapped in the web.
"Here's my Rose!" The man shouted and his voice was thick and lazy with the alcohol running through his system.
The men around him laughed at his statement though i couldn't find one thing in his sentence that would be considered funny.
My body crept a little further towards them, whilst my mind screamed at me to run, backing up its logic with the haunting memories of Ashton's rough hands on my body. However, the memories didn't give me the urge to turn and run. They made me want to stay and make sure that this girl, Rose, didn't have to endure what I had.
No one should ever have to endure the crippling feeling of being helpless and unable to defend your own body. No one should be made to feel inferior and worthless just because they aren't strong enough to exact the punishment on those who had wronged them. When I thought back on the night Ashton had attacked me I felt nothing but rage that I hadn't been able to punch him like Jasper had.
I may have been able to injure him, but it was Jasper who had the strength to end it. I watched the men start to circle the girl while her 'friend' showed her off like a prize cow. I felt that although I hadn't had the ability or strength to stop my own attack I had the chance stop this one.
With my decision made my feet slowly began to walk towards them , building into a run as the man who held her ripped off her jacket, sending the brass buttons to scatter across the street.
The girls face was full of shock and distaste.
" Show him what you look like, Rose!" The man bellowed and a dark laugh left his mouth as he ripped the girls hat from her hair, causing her to cry out in pain.
The spider had the butterfly in its reach.
I felt my anger boil when the men laugh at her pain. Just as Aston had revelled in my fear, they enjoyed her pain. They relished the way her voice screamed at their power and control. They liked the way she made them feel strong and masculine, all because she wasn't strong enough to fight back and inflict the same amount of agony they did on her.
My blood was racing as I came within metres of the group.
The men surrounded Rose so that all that told of her presence were the sobs, screams, and scraps of material that were left ruined on the dirty floor.
The butterfly could put up no struggle against the spider's wrath.
The once pretty outfit was now tainted and made ugly by the vile behaviour of these monsters disguised as respectable men.
As I hurried towards them I spotted a pile of discarded bricks.
I didn't waste any time in picking up two of the heavy stone blocks and running the last few metres towards the group, my sack bouncing against my back.
"Stop! Get off her,!" I called out as I fired one of the bricks at one of the men. I watched in satisfaction as he fell to the ground instantly, a small gash appearing where the brick had struck him.
(x) I had never been a violent person. I had never had the desire to harm someone, but right now I felt no shame in deliberately injuring this man. To me he wasn't a real person, none of them were. They didn't deserve the guilt my conscience would usually have felt at hurting someone.
I watched as the men turned slowly, gaping in their ridiculous drunken fashion before they're faces turned twisted with anger.
I knew what came next, the pain, the rage, the rough touches and predatory glares. I watched calmly as each one came to fruition. I knew how this went. I knew the devils dance that they would each perform as they revelled in their sins.
I saw one of the three men reach out for my arm and I turned to send him an icy glare.
"You dare to touch me and it will be the last thing you will ever do." He smiled in disbelief. This only hiked my anger further. His arrogant stance was just like Ashton's. He didn't think a young girl could hurt him, but I would prove him wrong and I would look down on his unconscious body with a smile on my face.
"How sweet that you believe you would even stand a chance. You've only got one brick left, sweetheart, and there's three of us," He sneered and his face rippled with shadows as he passed through the light towards me.
I could hear the laughter and sounds of the other two behind him. Bile rose in my throat as I heard the begging voice of the girl, and the sounds of clothes being torn and removed with force.
"Has no one ever told you not to judge a book by its cover?" I sneered and hurled the brick directly at his head. It clipped his temple and he stumbled under the force, but unlike his friend he didn't fall down. He didn't crumble like I had expected him to, instead he lunged and I found myself trapped in his grasp as he bent my arms back to lock behind my back.
The pain of his grip was excruciating and I felt like his hands were distorting my bones with the strength of their hold. I cried out but clenched my teeth shut against the scream that wanted to escape. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing my pain. That was what they wanted, and I would never submit to their will just because they threaten me with the same fate as the barely conscious girl on the floor.
"That almost hurt and for that I think you should be punished," His breath was hot on my neck and I felt a repulsed shiver rolled down my back. His hands crept up my clothed body until they gripped my face, forcing it to turn in the direction of the girl's broken body.
For a brief second her panicked eyes locked with mine and I saw the pain, fear and desperation that pooled under their ocean blue surface.
She had been so beautiful, but now it was all hidden beneath her battered appearance. Her eyes were puffy with tears and her hair was wild around her dirtied face. She looked like an angel that had been pulled from heaven and forced to endure the dirt ridden hell of humanity.
I felt my eyes start to fill with tears and the salt within them stung at the small cuts that had formed where the man's fingernails dug into my skin.
"I'm sorry. I'll save you. I promise," I whispered and the girl's eyes flashed with hope. However, it soon vanished when the men who held her pulled on her hair, arching her body in a way that seemed almost unnatural.
"Royce, please. Don't do this. I won't tell anyone. Please just don't." She begged and pleaded but none of it penetrated the thick wall that surrounded that man she was addressing.
He didn't care what she said, or how she felt. All that matter to him was the feeling her near lifeless body gave him.
"Shut your mouth, Rose. You always did talk too much." He barked and struck a hard hand across her face, causing her head to ricochet off the pavement and leave her an unconscious limp figure on the floor. There was no struggle left in her limbs and her face showed nothing of her torture.
The men snickered and I struggled against the one that held me.
My foot stamped into the instep of his foot and my elbow fired back into his stomach while my other foot flicked up to hit him where it hurt. It was a trick I had learnt from Casey and I was glad she had taught me something of worth.
The man doubled over and I swung my sack to pound him on the side of his face, hitting him the same place as the brick had struck. My actions only angered him further and he sent a powerful slap across my face, leaving a burning sting in its wake. My head snapped to the side at the force of his hit. I a gasp ripped from me when I saw the remaining two men looking down on the girls limp body in a way that made my stomach churn.
I tried to run towards her, to do something, to put myself between them and her helpless form, but my captors arms grabbed at me again and this time I couldn't fight back.
The memories of Ashton flooded my brain making my limbs become flimsy and start to shake. The man's vice like grip held me to him and force my gaze to focus on the hideous act in front of me.
How could they do this?
How could they find any pleasure in performing such a wretched crime as taking a girl without her consent?
Did they not feel the sickness in the pit of their stomachs when they looked down and saw the monsters they had become?
I was caught in a limbo of two forms of hell, the present and the past. Even shutting my eyes didn't help. It only blocked out one scene of horror and allowed another to play vividly in my head.
I felt like I was reliving Ashton's attack second by second but if I opened my eyes they were tortured by sight in front of me.
I couldn't escape.
I could feel the tight grip on my arm from the present nightmare but it morphed into the lusting clutches of Ashton's rough hands.
I could hear what was happening, and being said by the men but that was all I could hear. Their voices echoed in my mind and resonated through my being, making me gag and convulse against my captors body.
It was all too much.
I couldn't breathe, and no matter how much I struggled I couldn't gain any relief from the terror that filled me.
I wanted so badly to escape but I didn't know how.
I had wanted to prove I was worthy and strong enough to win this time but I had never thought that I would be fighting against my past as well as my present. If I had only had one battle to win I could have managed but there was no way I could find the strength to win against this deadly combination of memory and reality.
I tried to shout and scream for help but they were just as weak as my spirit.
I wanted someone to drag me out of this horrendous nightmare but how could they truly save me when I was trapped deep in the grip of my tortured mind unable to move, paralysed with fear. It would be like trying to save someone from sinking sand. Each movement to help would disturb my already blurred mind, tipping me further into the nightmare and further away from sanity.
My eyes darted wildly around me every time they opened. Anything to avoid the bloodied mess the men were making of the girl. When I could take the sight no longer I clenched my eyes shut, only to smell Ashton, feel him, and hear him as he threatened to violate me, abuse me, debase me with his actions, and his words.
There was no rest bite between the terrors.
These men were no longer in the real world. They were lost in a fantasy that was as ugly as their black souls. They believed that their status gave them power above everyone else, and I could see they revelled in it as they exerted their dominance.
They were crazed and even though I shouted and screamed it was all met by their deaf ears. They were incapable of hearing, totally unaware of their surroundings.
How could this be happening again?
How could I have failed this poor girl?
All I had wanted to do was save her and now her body looked beyond repair.
I could feel the man behind me enjoying the scene before him. His body used mine for friction and I felt my skin crawl with the heavy feel of him against me.
Claustrophobia built in me and with it came something I clung to desperately. The tingle.
I had been so distracted with the relief the tingle had given me that I didn't realise that the men before me were done destroying the beautiful girl, Rose.
Their eyes showed they weren't done, far from it. They hungered for more. They wanted to take more and spread their darkness further.
"What a pretty little thing you are," one of them saidm and the man behind me shoved me down towards the ground. My body ached from the contact but not for long. The tingle soon covered the pain with a wonderful buzz across my skin.
My locket clattered against the stone floor, scratching the pristine surface slightly. I hated the idea that this event would now forever be etched into the silver surface of the locket I loved so much.
I glanced to the side and saw the Rose's limp body beside me.
The men had line me up next to her, the next lamb for the slaughter.
My tear blurred eyes solemnly looked over her ruined innocent figure until they settled upon her hand.
It almost looked like it reaching out, waiting for someone to hold it, like she was searching for a person kind enough to offer her some comfort. I had failed her too much already so I grasped her cold hand in my own.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I sobbed as I felt the first of the men creep over me.
(x) The tingle pulsed around me and I breathed in the electrified air.
"That's right, don't fight it...Such a good little girl." He cooed and I felt the pressure that came before his touch.
As soon as his finger tips grazed my clothes torso his hand snapped back as the electric tingle around me pulsed its current though his skin.
"What devil's work is this?" He hissed and I sneered at him. He dared to accuse me of dealing with the devil after he had committed the worst sin possible, in my opinion.
I could feel my feet fading away, so I grabbed my bag before my hands followed the same fate.
"I'll remember this act, and believe me when I say that your days are numbered." It was an empty threat, because I had no way of promising revenge, but the satisfaction I got from seeing their sobering faces look on in horror was enough.
I didn't even feel the tingle race through me so I had no time to realise that I was jumping. The only clue I was given was the all consuming darkness followed by a foreign dim light.
In the instant I became wholly a part of this place I felt my being fall apart.
In the second I fell apart there were strong arms around me, keeping me together.
There had been no other point in my life so far that I had welcomed these arms around me so much.
No other moment when I felt that they were everything I needed to survive.
But then again there had been no other time when I truly needed a saviour.
Not until now.