Unforgiveable

Short story expanded from my poem of the same name (http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Cyali/323963)

The moon had risen hours ago on this warm summer night, tinting the raven-colored sky with a hint of fire. My mind was racing, but the tears had long since dried. I kept scrubbing at my hands under the warm tap; though the blood had washed off long ago, I could still see it coating my hands in my mind’s eye. I turned off the tap and leaned against the wall, a golden moonbeam hitting the single crystalline tear that rolled down my cheek.

 

I was still shaking as I lowered my body to the ground. Every time my eyes closed, all I could see was his face. That last expression begging for mercy; begging for his life. I was so exhausted I could no longer open my eyes; the insides of my eyelids became a movie screen as my mind replayed the nightmare I lived through.

 

At first, the only sounds were my screams and my hands hitting his chest as I tried to push him off me. My nails dug into his chest, his arms, his back; any flesh I could reach to try to make him let me go. He grabbed my wrists and held them so tightly I thought they would break. He forced them together and clamped his hand down in a vise-grip. I heard the tape being pulled off the roll, and felt it wrap tightly around my wrists. He grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pulled me up so my face was even with his. I stared into those crystal blue eyes as he smiled at the tears streaming down my face. His thumb came up and wiped my cheek in mock sympathy, then leaned in till I could feel his breath on my ear.

 

      “I’m gonna leave that pretty mouth of yours un-taped; I wanna hear you scream for me, baby.”

 

I fell back onto the bed as he released my shirt, and struggled with all I had in me as he kneeled on my chest and pushed my hands above my head. A rope was looped through my taped hands and attached to a large ring in the headboard. The excess length of rope was laid next to my head as he moved off my chest and straddled my hips, undoing my jeans. I bucked and screamed at him as he struggled to pull them down. My foot connected with his face as he freed the jeans from my legs, and he fell off the bed laughing.

 

He climbed back on the bed and settled next to me, forcing one knee up to my chest as I struggled and screamed, trying to kick out at him with my free leg. He kneeled on my free leg to pin it down and I screamed in frustration as he picked up the coil of rope near my head and looped it around the crook of my knee, keeping it pressed against my chest. He released my other leg and forced it up to my chest, looping the rope around that knee and securing it to the other leg. The last of the rope was wound around my calves, ending in a loop around my ankles.

 

I screamed again as he flipped me over. The rope forced me into a kneeling position, with my a*s in the air and my cheek pressed against the bed, my arms straight out in front of me. I tried as hard as I could to kick at him as I felt his calloused hand rub against my a*s and down between my legs, pulling teasingly at my panties. My voice cracked as I tried to scream again for help. I sobbed into the bed as I felt my panties pulled down to my knees, and cried out as I felt him thrust himself into me.

 

I have no idea how long he used me. I had no tears left as I sobbed quietly, my body and my mind both numb. He moaned in release as he finished and slapped my a*s. He untied the rope from the ring on the headboard as I curled up on my side, then he threw my discarded jeans on top of me before he got dressed and left the room whistling.

 

I laid there for what felt like ages, trying to pull myself together. My hands were so numb from how tightly he’d wound the tape that they were practically useless. Gripping the end of the rope in my teeth, I was able to untie it from the tape between my wrists. The next eternity was spent biting at the silver tape until finally my hands were free. I whimpered as the feeling returned in the form of pins and needles, and cradled my hands against my chest as I curled up again.

 

With my hands responsive again, I slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position so I could free my legs. I cleaned myself up as best as I could with the bedsheet before pulling up my panties and easing into my jeans. My legs felt like rubber, and every ounce of my body was screaming at me to just curl up into a ball in the corner. I forced myself to focus. I checked the bedroom door and my panic rose as I found it locked.

 

He wasn’t done with me.

 

My breathing was getting faster and shallow and I started to see stars. I threw myself into a corner, pulled my knees to my chest, and cupped my hands around my mouth. I blocked everything else out as I focused on my breathing, trying hard to catch my breath.

 

The panic attack soon subsided, but my body still didn’t want to move. My eyes darted around the room and locked onto the blacked-out window on the wall opposite the door. Forcing myself out of the corner, I checked the window to find it jammed shut with two nails. I frantically searched the room for anything that could help me, and in a drawer in the bedside table came across a set of nail clippers. I pushed the clippers together and removed the small hook that attached the lever, then pulled the clippers apart so I had a small piece of steel with a small blade at a 45° angle.

 

I ran back to the window and finessed the corner of the blade under the head of one of the nails. Once it found purchase, I pushed down on the blunt end of the clipper so it forced the blade end, and the nail head, upwards. I did the same to the other nail, feeling a tiny sliver of hope run through my body. I slid the side of the clipper under the head of the nail and used both hands to pull up. A few minutes of effort saw the nail falling onto the floor. The second one joined it shortly after. With a bit of trouble, I was able to coax the window open to find that, in a stroke of luck, I was on the ground floor.

 

I started to climb out of the window when the sight of a crumpled pair of panties under the bed made me freeze. I wasn’t the first he had done this to, and in that moment I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be the last if he had his way. The fear slowly slipped away as it was replaced by a growing rage. No, there would not be any more after me. I would be the last woman he abused.

 

My heel caught on the window frame as I climbed back inside, and I fell against the bed. I coiled up the rope, tied it off, and looped it over my shoulder. Nothing else in the room seemed useful for what I had in mind, so I carefully climbed out the window onto the cool grass outside. My face turned skywards as I stared at the full moon, taking a minute to steel my nerves. The crickets chirped, and the wind rustled softly through the trees; the world had continued out here as if nothing had happened while my world was being destroyed.

 

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath then made for the back of the house. The door was locked, and I saw nowhere that may be useful to hide a key. I made my way quietly to the front of the house to find the front door also locked. No key under the doormat, or on top of the door trim. No fake rocks at the foot of the stoop. I finally found the spare key hidden under a small flowerpot on the small table on one side of the porch. The key moved silently in the locks as I turned it as slowly as possible.

 

The key slipped into my pocket as I turned the doorknob and opened the front door an inch at a time. I moved excruciatingly slow, my body aching and still screaming at me to curl up in a ball. The door was finally open wide enough for me to quietly slip inside. I closed it silently behind me.

 

The single-story house wasn’t large. I was standing in an empty sitting room. To my right was a dining area, and through an arch in the back I could see the kitchen. Directly in front of me, and on the opposite side of the sitting room, was a small hallway with two doors on the left and one on the far wall. The second door on the left was closed; I knew from circling the house that it was the room I had been locked in. The door on the far wall was also closed.

 

My shoes had been dumped on the floor next to the door; I made a mental note of that as I silently tiptoed around the edge of the sitting room and into the dining room. I moved along the wall of the dining room and around the corner until I could look through the opening into the kitchen. It was also empty. I grabbed a knife from the knife block on the counter, and undid the latch on the back door, before moving back around the edge of the dining room to get back to the sitting room. I made my way down the hallway, keeping to the left wall.

 

An empty bathroom was through the open door on the left. Quietly trying to turn the knob on the second door on the left confirmed it was locked. Which meant he had to be behind door number three. I couldn’t see any light coming from underneath the door, and pressing my ear against the door yielded no sounds from within. I listened for a bit longer and eventually heard a muffled snore. The son of a b***h must have been so worn out after his fun. I pushed the rage back down as I turned the doorknob.

 

I let the door swing open an inch and heard full-blown snoring now. Inch by inch I pushed the door open. The window on the back wall dimly illuminated the room with moonlight; I could see him sprawled on his back on the bed. I also noticed a rope ring in the middle of his headboard, as well as two smaller ones off to the sides.

 

Perfect.

 

I slowly closed the door then moved to the end of the hall, knelt down, and went to work. I cut off two short sections of rope and tied a slipknot at one end of each. I tied a slipknot at one end of the remaining rope. The knife went into my pocket, carefully, with its blade pointed down.

 

My body fought with me as I stood back up. I tiptoed back to the door and opened it again, excruciatingly slow. After I moved inside, I knelt and slowly closed the door but didn’t latch it in case I needed to run. Moving to my hands and knees, I crawled to the foot of the bed. I spread the longer section of rope on the floor under the foot of the bed, along the inner side of the bed feet. I crawled to the left side of the bed and peeked my head up. His foot was sticking out of the blanket, so I looped the slipknot over it and carefully pulled it under so it ended up around his ankle. I tightened the knot until it was lightly resting against the side of his ankle.

 

Sweat was streaming down my brow as I silently crawled to the other side of the bed. His other foot was under the blanket. I could see the lump under the blanket where his foot was and pulled the unknotted end of the rope up to it to measure. His snoring continued as I made another slipknot at the appropriate spot. I sat up on my knees and held my breath as I pulled the blanket away from his foot and slowly slipped the loop of rope around it. Once it was secure, I sat down and leaned against the foot of the bed to slow my heartrate.

 

After a minute’s rest, I opened up the loops on both of the shorter ropes and crawled along the right side of the bed to the head. His left hand was laying on his pillow, making it very easy to slip the loop around his wrist and secure it to the ring on the headboard. The other hand would be trickier; I’d need to move it from its position on his chest. I crawled around to the other side of the bed then slowly stood up. I put one knee on the bed to stabilize myself and put weight on it as slowly as I could to control how quickly the mattress dipped.

 

Once my knee could support me, I leaned forward and slid the loop of rope around his wrist. I grabbed the rope around his wrist to avoid having my hot, sweaty hands touch his and possibly wake him up. I slowly, slowly picked up his hand and rotated it back, then rested it on the corner of the bed. Letting out a quiet sigh, I secured the last piece of rope to the ring on the headboard.

 

I pulled the knife from my pocket and stared at the moonlight glinting off the steel. No; the dark would not do. I wanted him to see everything crystal clear so he would remember it. I walked back towards the door, no longer trying to keep quiet, located the light switch and flipped it on. I moved back to the bed as he tried to move to block the light from his eyes. Finding that he couldn’t move his limbs, his eyes flew open. His eyes scanned the room wildly before settling on me, then on the knife in my hands.

 

He strained against the ropes but they held tight. I smiled as I saw the roll of duct tape on his nightstand. I picked it up and contemplated it before returning my gaze to his face. My smile grew as I saw the fear on his face when I spoke.

 

      “On second thought, I’m gonna leave that pretty mouth of yours un-taped; I wanna hear you scream for me, baby.”

 

I slipped the roll of tape around my wrist, as I wanted to leave as few items with my fingerprints as possible, then climbed onto the bed and sat on my knees beside him. As I looked at the knife and pondered what my next move was, he struggled against the ropes so hard that the bed shook. I was suddenly grateful to my Navy friend for teaching me how to knot a rope, because if the b*****d in front of me were to get free there was no way I was leaving this house alive.

 

Having decided on a course of action, I ripped the blanket off him and pulled down his boxers. He started to beg as I ran the tip of the knife up the inside of one of this thighs, up his stomach, up his chest, and let the blade rest across his neck. He went still as the dead, barely even moving to breathe. I slowly trailed the knife back down his body, this time pressing just hard enough to draw blood.

 

The blade of the knife stopped at the base of his c**k. His eyes were wild as he started to beg. He started to struggle again, but seemed to think better of it as the knife pressed in harder against him.

 

With my left hand, I grabbed his c**k and pulled slightly to extend it, then stared directly into those clear, sky-blue eyes as the knife cut through.

 

He screamed. Tears streamed from his eyes as he screamed. He struggled violently against the ropes as he screamed. Blood leaked onto his mattress as he screamed.

 

Now he understood the pain he inflicted on me, and however many other women he raped. I stared into those cold, blue eyes as his screams died to whimpers. I stared into those eyes for what would be the last time as I straddled him and sat on his chest.

 

My hands shook as I brought the tip of the knife right over one of those captivating eyes. With my left hand, I held open his eyelids. He screamed again as I brought the knife down slowly into that crystal blue eye, just deep enough to puncture it. He kept screaming as I twisted the knife. His voice was going hoarse from the screaming and he only managed a hoarse whisper of a scream as I did the same to his other eye.

 

Those beautiful eyes would never entrap another woman.

 

Slowly, I got up off the bed. I returned his courtesy and untied one of his hands so he could eventually free himself from the rope.

 

I picked up his shirt from the floor and wiped off the knife handle, then let the blade drop to the floor. I wiped the light switch and moved through the house to wipe any doorknobs I had touched. I pulled the pieces of broken nail clipper from my pocked and wiped them down as well before they too were dropped to the floor. I moved to the sitting room and put on my shoes to the sound of his whimpering coming from the bedroom, then walked out the door, head held high.

 

He would never hurt anyone again.