: Nikita C. Hughes
: 35.96 MB
"How It All Began. She lay motionless across the bed; her legs still spread apart and hanging off, onto the floor. Her body was bruised, bleeding and racked with pain. She slowly managed to push herself backwards, off the bed and onto the floor. Down on her knees, she struggled to gather a few items scattered about, placing them in a small plastic bag. She struggles to get to her feet; her body trembling from the brutal attack. “How could you do this to me?!” she groaned in the direction of a woman standing near the corner of the room. As the injured young woman struggled to stand, she made her way towards the nervous woman. Anticipating what was about to happen, the woman shouted, “Don't you understand?!” “Don't you get it?!” “I did this for us!” “This is all for you!” As she nervously backed away, she raised the piece of paper she was clutching in her hand. The pain turned to rage as the battered woman took one mighty swing! Both women collapsed to the floor; one from the pain of a brutal rape, the other, from a right hook to the jaw. “Give me that!” she exclaimed, snatching the paper from the now semi-conscious woman's hand. After reading the contents, she ripped it up, and then tossed it in her face. “That is what this was all about?” sobbed the woman as she slid along the wall in an attempt to get back on her feet. “Don't you ever come near me again!” She cried as she wrapped a sweater around her waist, while making her way out of the front door. She welcomed the late afternoon shower from Mother Nature, as she staggered along the empty rural road. With no food, drink or money, she had no choice but to walk as best she could, while stopping to rest, from time to time. She wanted nothing more than to get as far away from that place as possible. Dizzy from the heat, loss of blood and pain of the attack, she hardly even noticed the truck as it slowed, approaching her from behind. “Excuse me miss, but could you use a ride?” inquired an elderly man in an even older, beat up and rusted pick-up truck, as he pulled up alongside of her. Frightened and a bit hesitant, she finally whispered, “thank you,” as she struggled to get in. The young woman had slowly walked for hours until her body had become numb. “This is no place for a lovely young lady, such as you, to be walking alone in the dark.” he concluded. “The dark?” she mumbled, as she paused to look about the sky. Disorientated, she had not realized the sun was setting. Huh, the sun was setting, but all she could remember was the comforting late afternoon rain; the shower that briefly, seemed to wash away the memory and the stink of her attackers, earlier on, in the day. After about a mile or so, the old man attempted to break the silence. “What's a pretty young thing like yourself doing out here all alone anyway?” However, there was no response. She just sat there with a blank look on her tired face. “Are you hungry?” “I have a couple sandwiches and some coffee in my lunch box there.” offered the old man. Again, he was met by the cold, blank stare of the injured woman. “Stop here,” she said abruptly, glaring out of the window. “Thank you for the ride, I'll just get out here.” “Ah, the old Brande Plantation; what a beautiful place it is now.” sighed the old man. “Yes, it is.” she thought, as she attempted to climb out of the truck. That is exactly why she wanted to stop. She needed a place like this to clear her mind. It seemed so peaceful. She was drawn to its serene energy; it gave her a warm feeling of safety. In her heart, she knew this was where she needed to be at that particular moment. She groaned in agonizing pain, clutching her abdominal area, as she hung onto the rusted out, door of the truck. “Miss, are you alright?” asked the old man concernedly. Again, not a word, but she did manage a half smile, as she closed the door. She fought back the pain, unaware that her sweater had"