Dr. Love
07-09-2012, 04:23 AM
This work was done more out of spontaneity than a planned work. Please comment and rate as you see fit.
Jumping through the leaves I noticed that her window was open. I positioned myself so that I could see what was going on in her room; there was quite a bit of noise coming out of it. Leaning towards the window on that branch as I was, I was able to make out a clearer depiction of the sounds coming out of it. I heard her voice speaking in a calm but worried sort of way, almost in a quiet resistance. I heard another voice along with hers, the voice of a man well out of puberty, probably in his late teens to early 20s. It had an insistent, almost coercing tone to it, like he was trying push something onto someone without being too assertive. I couldn’t make out the scene with just sound alone, and since there were several small branches full of leaves blocking my view, I had to gently brush them out of the way so as not to be heard. Finally, my view unimpeded and my covers still secure, I had a full picture of the entire scene. She, whose name is Emily, was wearing a pink spaghetti-strapped t-shirt that showed a bit of the lower midriff. Any shorter, and it would’ve passed for a bra. Along with it, she wore matching pink panties. Sitting on the fluffy light-blue carpeted floor with her was he, whose name was Dante. He wore no shirt, only baggy, loose jeans and a pair of socks. They were still speaking softly at this point, so I could contrast their individual expressions. Her round, sad brown eyes trying to avoid gazing into his intense and narrow glare. She tries to turn her freckled face away from him ever so slightly, only for him to raise his hand and carefully turn it back towards him. It was really quite a sight to behold, until I slipped my hand and snapped a branch, that’s when I saw the truth of the matter. Emily jolted her attention in my direction, while I remained completely still for fear of being caught. She seemed to be the only one who heard me, because she said audibly:
“What was that?”
Dante didn’t seem to take notice, he just turned her head back towards him and said:
“Alright, now you’re just hearing things”
I thought that I could relax because Emily’s attention was averted from my direction, but that was not so. Dante would add:
“C’mon, I know ya love me, an’ we’ve been at this for a month. Time to get serious”
He had a more commanding and forceful tone of voice than before, and he sounded less caring and more threatening. He started rubbing her body in an unsightly manner. She tried to resist, but he was inescapable. She said a few things to him, but I couldn’t hear them. Apparently he didn’t like what she said, because soon as she said it, he became violent, and forced himself on her. I watched her fight, and cry, as her assaulter ripped her already flimsy garments off of her body. I watched the tears, and the gnashing of teeth, and the tearing and scratching of her assaulter’s flesh as she so desperately struggled to escape. And I heard the grunts, the squeals, the yelps, and the growling of the two combatants. I beheld this until my instinct overtook my senses, and caused me to take action in the only way that I knew how.
If only she could’ve understood why I did to him what I did.
I probably wouldn’t be a fugitive right now.
Jumping through the leaves I noticed that her window was open. I positioned myself so that I could see what was going on in her room; there was quite a bit of noise coming out of it. Leaning towards the window on that branch as I was, I was able to make out a clearer depiction of the sounds coming out of it. I heard her voice speaking in a calm but worried sort of way, almost in a quiet resistance. I heard another voice along with hers, the voice of a man well out of puberty, probably in his late teens to early 20s. It had an insistent, almost coercing tone to it, like he was trying push something onto someone without being too assertive. I couldn’t make out the scene with just sound alone, and since there were several small branches full of leaves blocking my view, I had to gently brush them out of the way so as not to be heard. Finally, my view unimpeded and my covers still secure, I had a full picture of the entire scene. She, whose name is Emily, was wearing a pink spaghetti-strapped t-shirt that showed a bit of the lower midriff. Any shorter, and it would’ve passed for a bra. Along with it, she wore matching pink panties. Sitting on the fluffy light-blue carpeted floor with her was he, whose name was Dante. He wore no shirt, only baggy, loose jeans and a pair of socks. They were still speaking softly at this point, so I could contrast their individual expressions. Her round, sad brown eyes trying to avoid gazing into his intense and narrow glare. She tries to turn her freckled face away from him ever so slightly, only for him to raise his hand and carefully turn it back towards him. It was really quite a sight to behold, until I slipped my hand and snapped a branch, that’s when I saw the truth of the matter. Emily jolted her attention in my direction, while I remained completely still for fear of being caught. She seemed to be the only one who heard me, because she said audibly:
“What was that?”
Dante didn’t seem to take notice, he just turned her head back towards him and said:
“Alright, now you’re just hearing things”
I thought that I could relax because Emily’s attention was averted from my direction, but that was not so. Dante would add:
“C’mon, I know ya love me, an’ we’ve been at this for a month. Time to get serious”
He had a more commanding and forceful tone of voice than before, and he sounded less caring and more threatening. He started rubbing her body in an unsightly manner. She tried to resist, but he was inescapable. She said a few things to him, but I couldn’t hear them. Apparently he didn’t like what she said, because soon as she said it, he became violent, and forced himself on her. I watched her fight, and cry, as her assaulter ripped her already flimsy garments off of her body. I watched the tears, and the gnashing of teeth, and the tearing and scratching of her assaulter’s flesh as she so desperately struggled to escape. And I heard the grunts, the squeals, the yelps, and the growling of the two combatants. I beheld this until my instinct overtook my senses, and caused me to take action in the only way that I knew how.
If only she could’ve understood why I did to him what I did.
I probably wouldn’t be a fugitive right now.