When Bad Things Happen to Good Girls

A Story by jenniferleanne

Father said, “Never talk to strangers.” Mother always told her to obey. But no one expected this cruelty in Suburbia--not her, not them.

Rummaging through her glove compartment, she needed to find that lip-gloss. Yes, the bubblegum and the baby-pink lip-gloss sat in her make-up bag, but neither looked as ravishing on her lips as the hot-pink lip-gloss she left in her glove compartment just the other day. She had a date, a first date, with Ryan tomorrow--Ryan!--and she had to plan even the minutest detail of her outfit for this event, including the lip-gloss.

Bent over with the car door open and the interior light on, her thoughts never wandered to the dark lurking around her, pressing on the metal of her car, on her denim-covered legs. Therefore, she did not notice the car with its headlights off rolling down her quiet, neighborhood street. She did not notice the bright eyes searching, searching. She did not notice the car park on the edge of Mr. Ken’s driveway next door. She did not notice the tall figure leave his car door open as he appeared on the sidewalk. She did not notice.

She felt a sharp point in her back and he heard a sharp intake of breath. “Now, I know you have a sweet family inside that pretty, white-washed house. You follow me, quietly, and that sweet little family can stay sweet and safe. That what you want now, sugar?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She could not speak.

Father said, “Never talk to strangers.”

He pressed the point harder into her back. She felt something thick and wet begin to trickle a slimy trail down to the waistline of her jeans.

“That what you want now, sugar?”

Mother always told her to obey.

Like a good little girl, she nodded. She followed. She cried. She looked at him, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.

In her mind, she pleaded. “Why would you do this to me? Please, don’t hurt me. I’m only sixteen. Sixteen! I just got a car. I’m going on a date tomorrow. With Ryan. Ryan! I have a life to live!”

“You selfish brat!” He slapped her. “Your life means nothing to me.”

She tried another tactic. “What would Jesus do? He still loves you. He will forgive you. Just let me go. Please. I go to church every Sunday. I volunteer to feed the homeless Saturday mornings. People can do good on this earth. You can do good. Just start by letting me go. He loves you. He loves you…”

His laugh consumed the interior, crawling down her neck, caressing her eardrum. “You think I need your Jesus?” he spat. “I have my religion. I make sacrifices often. Oh, and thank you for contributing, my little lamb.” He winked.

Her head hung limp on her chest. She felt her heartbeat soak in the warmth of her tears.

Her father, her mother, her family. “Don’t you have a family?” she screamed. “A mother? A daughter? A sister? A wife? Anybody? What if they sat here instead of me?”

Then, he cried, too.

He realized, like she knew, that family exists to tie people together, to teach humanity, patience, and selflessness. Families fight. Families give. Families love. For her family, she entered the car. For his family, he let her go.

All these thoughts remained trapped in her mind, never breaking free. That night, he only heard the repetition, “Please, sir, no.” What a polite, good little girl.

The mind that thought these beautiful thoughts no longer thinks. They found her brain a week later, grey and lifeless, trapped in her dead body. In reality, her mind escaped that night. In reality, he had no life, no religion, and no family. In reality, they are both dead.

Mother always told her to obey. Father said, “Never talk to strangers.” But, what happens when a stranger talks to you?