Pearl Buttons No More (Tale 1 Of Seven)

He slammed her against the tree trunk. Shocked by his violence and stunned by the pain in her back she slid down to the grassy roots and sat amidst the daffodils and red ants. Oblivious that there were people staring at them, she stared glassily up at him while he hissed at her. She saw his lips moving but did not hear a word he said. He repeated himself.

She closed her eyes, willing away the pain.
He was her first love.
He was her everything.

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her up. He forced her to follow him up the hill. Stumbling a few times, she followed him as he dragged/pushed/half-carried her up. They reached a clearing where there were a few gnarled firs and several very very tall trees. A few rays of sunlight shone through the trees and shadows danced everywhere.

Her heart started pounding. What were they doing up here? Why did he bring her to this eery lonely place? His back was to her. He peered around the clearing and gave a mysterious smile. Then he turned abruptly and went back down the hill.

She rubbed her arms. They were cold from the evening breeze and achy from his rough rough hands. She looked around the clearing and saw happy little yellow butterflies dancing in the rays of sunlight.

A sound of shuffling feet and of someone nearing caught her attention. She turned around and it was him. He had carried up all their picnic things. He set everything down and rearranged the picnic mat and blanket.He nodded at her to come nearer.

She refused. She wanted to go home. She had enough of this picnic. It had stopped being fun. Especially when he did not know that no= NO. She said as much. His face became as cold as stone.

He got up and walked towards her. Stood in front of her and looked down at her.

Lifted up her chin and kissed her roughly on the mouth. She resisted. He kissed her harder and forced his tongue into her mouth. He placed his hands on her back and pinched her buttocks, hard. He pressed his body to hers revelling in the feel of her softness, of her breasts and stomach and thighs. He groaned at the pleasure and she felt him get hard. He ground his body to hers and felt her flinch from his roughness. She struggled and resisted. She pushed him away and turned. She said she wasn't ready and asked to be taken home.

Her heart pounding, she gathered up her handbag and her things. She could sense the darkness in him. The unwillingness.

The danger.

Just as she stood up, he barrelled into her and they both fell to the ground, twisting, grappling, struggling, fighting. He squeezed her left breast hard and pinned her down to the ground with his right arm. He moved his left hand under her blouse and down her silk trousers, undoing the tie and ripping the pearl buttons away. Breaking them. Shattering them.

She begged him to stop.

She tried to squirm away and get up and almost succeeded. He tackled her to the ground. He punched her. And she was still.

Shocked.
Silent.

He dragged her to the picnic mat and slammed her against the picnic blanket. The sharp stones underneath poked her skin. He lay on top of her, pressing her down against the blanket and he kissed her cheek, the side of her mouth, her nose. He tugged at her left ear with his teeth and then sucked violently on her neck.

He tried to put his hand between her legs but she held her legs tightly together. He boxed her jaw. Still, she resisted. He pinched her hips really hard and used his knee to force her thighs open. He rustled her springy curls and put his hand on her. He dragged his fingers through her body and hooked his fingers in her.

He tore something. Her back arched in pain.
He started to undo his jeans zipper.
She knew what was coming.

Her mind went blank with terror and she knew she had to fight back, or die trying.
She jabbed him in the eye.
He screamed in pain.

She got up and started running. She left it all behind.

Her first love, her fear, her sorrow, her pearl buttons, her innocence.

And she ran...

...

But not fast enough....

...



He crumpled to the grassy floor with her, his legs folding under him as he held her in his arms. She looked so soft, so beautiful and she was all his. God, how she must hate him now! Would she forgive him, just one last time??? He promised himself that he would never again hurt her! He would never again force himself on her when she was not ready.

She was not breathing!!

He laid her out on the floor and listened to her heart, thank god thank god THANK GOD... it was beating still.

But she was not breathing!!!!

He opened her mouth and breathed a few puffs of air in.
Again and again and again. Again and again he tried to resuscitate her.

After what felt like an eternity of time, she gave a sigh and started breathing. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She smiled, then the realisation of what had happened hit her hard. The pain in her arms, in her back and in her privates awoke her to the full extent of his assault. Her face went rigid. He had hurt her, again.

After all the tears, all the promises, all the words of love, regret and reparation. After she had given him the second chance he had begged for. He had assaulted her again.

She tried to get up but the pain in her back hit her and she sank back down to the floor and lay amidst the grass, the red ants and the happy daffodils. Happy daffodils who did not know what they had just witnessed. Industrious red ants busily going about their work, not knowing of the world that just shattered again above them.

She just looked at him. And then turned her head away. He lowered his head in grief and regret.

Why did she always refuse him? Why was her religion so important to her? What difference did virginity and celibacy make if they loved each other? Why o why did he keep hurting her?

He raped his own girlfriend.

Today made twice.

What was he to do? Would she give him another chance? It was either that, or he would have to kill her. There could be no skeletons walking free from this cupboard. He could not afford the exposure if she decided to make a police report about him. He was a big-shot's son! The news would destroy his family, get him disowned. He'd never finish university! He had big plans for his future, his family had big plans for him. His life would be ruined before it had even begun.

How had he sunk so low???
He could not believe his thoughts.
How could he be thinking of killing her???
Was he insane?
What was wrong with him??
He felt like killing himself.

He hoped that she would forgive him, just this one last time, and then he'd try to stay away from her. However he had a feeling that there would not be another chance for him. She had already forgiven him once, and he'd blown it.

...

But the stupid girl gave him many second chances.
Why did she always forgive him?

You see, when he was nice, he was an angel, a sweetheart, a lovable honeybunny, a joy to be with... the bestest, handsomest, darlingest boyfriend ever. All the happy superlatives you could think of.

And worst of all, he was her First Love.
She loved him unconditionally.

She kept forgiving him all his flaws, all his violence, all the shattered pearl buttons.
He was only nasty now and then. And he was so sweet afterwards. So very sorry. So broken. So loving. So sorrowful. That she always took him back. She always forgave him.

And her friends grew tired of picking up the pieces.
Of telling her to leave him.
Of seeing the bruises, the cracked ribs, the split lip, the black eye.
Of making police reports and having her deny everything when the police came.

Stupid stupid girl.
Suffer, then.

And tell no one of your stupidity.