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Oct. 11th, 2002 02:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kuangningThe stars were clear and bright, and she tried to focus on them, ignoring the cold seeping through the worn jacket that was pulled tightly around her. The stones she was lying on compounded the problem, leeching the heat from her body almost faster than she could generate it, but the stars, serene and oblivious, had always helped calm her. Flat on her back, her arms cushioning her head, she half-listened to the faint drone of the occasional car, and the rippling of the water. It was too cold to let herself cry, but her eyes blurred and stung anyway.
It seemed that hours had passed when the sound of something scuttling over the rocks and gravel nearby caught her attention and alarmed her enough to make her sit up, but the thin sliver of moon had barely moved in the sky. Glancing around nervously, she saw a large rat disappearing into the black shadows of the the bridge, where daytime passers-by had thrown chunks of bread to feed the birds. Her shoulders slumped a little, and, turning her back on the creature, she wrapped her arms around her knees. The windblown water sparkled in the light cast by the streetlamps as the river curved its way around downtown and under another distant bridge. She smiled, a brittle smile that left her eyes still bleak. It was a beautiful night. She should go without the jacket or wade out into the water, it would make it faster, but already the wind was almost unbearable. Closing her eyes, resting her forehead on her knees, she waited.
[Her.]
The immediate response was surprise. But the decision was firm, and after all, one girl was much the same as any other. With a collective mental shrug that rippled through the assembly, consensus was reached. The undertone of satisfaction in the mental tones of the One responsible for the assembly was, if noticed, politely disregarded. Presently the assembled dispersed, each to his or her own domain, and only She remained.
The crunch of footsteps behind her caused her to stir only slightly, loosening arms that had gone stiff and turning her head a little toward the sound. Her fingers and toes were numb, her cheeks, ears, and nose burned and tingled, and she was shaking uncontrollably. The clouds that had gathered overhead within the hour or so she had dozed had begun to release flakes of snow. the air had actually warmed noticeably, but the added moisture made the cold seem more bitter than before. Still, she wanted only to sleep. As the footsteps grew closer, however, it became clear that she was not to be allowed that. Stifling a moan, she curled into herself again, not bothering to look up at whomever was intruding. She went rigid as she was lifted bodily, then almost immediately gave that up, lying limp and unresisting as she was carried. She whimpered once, and received a slap. After that, she was silent as she was placed into the back seat of a car. Eventually, she slept.
Sleep gave way to something more akin to catatonia as an uncounted period of time slipped by, a nightmare from which she could not and would not wake. Voices she ignored resolutely came and went, her body was positioned and repositioned and occasionally flung carelessly over floor or couch or bed, like the clothes which had at some early point been stripped from her. Her face and body were slapped and burned, her nipples sometimes pinched until involuntary tears flowed to mingle with the grime and ashes on her face. They rubbed her with various substances, forced themselves into her, forced her to swallow soup and, more frequently, semen, one holding her head while another filled her mouth. They drenched her in water, semen, sweat, and urine. She responded to none of it, except that she invariably curled into herself when left alone for longer than a few minutes. Eventually, tiring of her or fearing that they would be caught, they went away completely, without giving her the one thing she would ever have asked of them.
A rare passer-by, some days after the last of them had gone, heard her moan. When the police forced the door of the wretched cabin, her condition caused several of them to turn quickly aside and vomit. Double-gloved and grim-faced paramedics lifted her gingerly to the stretcher, and she was borne away.
She opened her eyes to too-bright lights, and grimaced, closing them again. Her arms ached. She tried to lift them, and found that she could not. Fighting back quick panic, she opened her eyes again and looked around. Blue curtains hung from metal rods, surrounding her on both sides. A window took up most of the upper half of the opposite wall, though that was not the source of most of the light. Fluorescent bulbs above her shone pitilessly. Her arms, she saw, were strapped to metal rails beside the bed, tubes leading from them to -- she twisted her head from one side to the other -- machines beside her. Giving into a sudden wave of dizziness, she lowered her head. There were butterflies in her stomach, and her mouth was too dry to allow her to do more than croak hoarsely. Her voice, when she tried, startled her. It felt and sounded rusty with disuse. Closing her mouth, she turned her head aside and wept.
She was dry-eyed and silent later, however, listening to the stern-looking doctor as he asked question after question she could not or would not answer. Finally, impatiently, he snapped the clip on his metal clipboard open and shut over a sheaf of papers, and put a pen into her hand. "Sign here, here, and here," he directed, and she did as she was told. When she had finished, he had one further question, one that widened her eyes in shock and elicited a forceful "no!" that made him scowl and then shrug. Six days later, laden with vitamins and literature, she walked out of the hospital and out into sunlight. She was still silent, but, thanks to those nameless, faceless men, she was no longer alone.
It seemed that hours had passed when the sound of something scuttling over the rocks and gravel nearby caught her attention and alarmed her enough to make her sit up, but the thin sliver of moon had barely moved in the sky. Glancing around nervously, she saw a large rat disappearing into the black shadows of the the bridge, where daytime passers-by had thrown chunks of bread to feed the birds. Her shoulders slumped a little, and, turning her back on the creature, she wrapped her arms around her knees. The windblown water sparkled in the light cast by the streetlamps as the river curved its way around downtown and under another distant bridge. She smiled, a brittle smile that left her eyes still bleak. It was a beautiful night. She should go without the jacket or wade out into the water, it would make it faster, but already the wind was almost unbearable. Closing her eyes, resting her forehead on her knees, she waited.
[Her.]
The immediate response was surprise. But the decision was firm, and after all, one girl was much the same as any other. With a collective mental shrug that rippled through the assembly, consensus was reached. The undertone of satisfaction in the mental tones of the One responsible for the assembly was, if noticed, politely disregarded. Presently the assembled dispersed, each to his or her own domain, and only She remained.
The crunch of footsteps behind her caused her to stir only slightly, loosening arms that had gone stiff and turning her head a little toward the sound. Her fingers and toes were numb, her cheeks, ears, and nose burned and tingled, and she was shaking uncontrollably. The clouds that had gathered overhead within the hour or so she had dozed had begun to release flakes of snow. the air had actually warmed noticeably, but the added moisture made the cold seem more bitter than before. Still, she wanted only to sleep. As the footsteps grew closer, however, it became clear that she was not to be allowed that. Stifling a moan, she curled into herself again, not bothering to look up at whomever was intruding. She went rigid as she was lifted bodily, then almost immediately gave that up, lying limp and unresisting as she was carried. She whimpered once, and received a slap. After that, she was silent as she was placed into the back seat of a car. Eventually, she slept.
Sleep gave way to something more akin to catatonia as an uncounted period of time slipped by, a nightmare from which she could not and would not wake. Voices she ignored resolutely came and went, her body was positioned and repositioned and occasionally flung carelessly over floor or couch or bed, like the clothes which had at some early point been stripped from her. Her face and body were slapped and burned, her nipples sometimes pinched until involuntary tears flowed to mingle with the grime and ashes on her face. They rubbed her with various substances, forced themselves into her, forced her to swallow soup and, more frequently, semen, one holding her head while another filled her mouth. They drenched her in water, semen, sweat, and urine. She responded to none of it, except that she invariably curled into herself when left alone for longer than a few minutes. Eventually, tiring of her or fearing that they would be caught, they went away completely, without giving her the one thing she would ever have asked of them.
A rare passer-by, some days after the last of them had gone, heard her moan. When the police forced the door of the wretched cabin, her condition caused several of them to turn quickly aside and vomit. Double-gloved and grim-faced paramedics lifted her gingerly to the stretcher, and she was borne away.
She opened her eyes to too-bright lights, and grimaced, closing them again. Her arms ached. She tried to lift them, and found that she could not. Fighting back quick panic, she opened her eyes again and looked around. Blue curtains hung from metal rods, surrounding her on both sides. A window took up most of the upper half of the opposite wall, though that was not the source of most of the light. Fluorescent bulbs above her shone pitilessly. Her arms, she saw, were strapped to metal rails beside the bed, tubes leading from them to -- she twisted her head from one side to the other -- machines beside her. Giving into a sudden wave of dizziness, she lowered her head. There were butterflies in her stomach, and her mouth was too dry to allow her to do more than croak hoarsely. Her voice, when she tried, startled her. It felt and sounded rusty with disuse. Closing her mouth, she turned her head aside and wept.
She was dry-eyed and silent later, however, listening to the stern-looking doctor as he asked question after question she could not or would not answer. Finally, impatiently, he snapped the clip on his metal clipboard open and shut over a sheaf of papers, and put a pen into her hand. "Sign here, here, and here," he directed, and she did as she was told. When she had finished, he had one further question, one that widened her eyes in shock and elicited a forceful "no!" that made him scowl and then shrug. Six days later, laden with vitamins and literature, she walked out of the hospital and out into sunlight. She was still silent, but, thanks to those nameless, faceless men, she was no longer alone.
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