Let's Say NO to Rape and Disrespect

I know I usually write short stories here and some experience or two, but the whole RAPE situation still shocks me as something common, hell, something I've even had nightmares about. It's so common and it's so irrational for it to be so. I just can't sit and not say anything about the matter 'cause it does matter.

Teaching about respect is ESSENTIAL. Rape is a reality, it is something that's happening every day to both men and women, young or old, but mainly to women.

Luckily, I am not a victim of rape, but instead, one of verbal harassment. I've been catcalled, been whispered nasty things into my ear by, mainly, men around their 40s-50s, and it does NOT feel good. It's disgusting and ruins my day. When I dress nice, when I dress up it's for myself, not to impress, and if I do impress, hey, smile if you like, but that does NOT give anyone the right to treat me like an object, like something on display. On my way to the opera the other day, looking fancy, a man that walked past me, made a nasty sound and whispered in a matter of seconds into my ear how "tasty" I looked. Immediately, I responded with verbal disapproval but he just walked away like nothing. The young man next to me just looked over and walked away, too. Didn't say a thing.

As women, we need to be able to stand up for ourselves, defend ourselves, but as men it is also important to know that you do NOT have a right to sex because you bought someone dinner or took them out on a nice date, you do NOT have a right to cat call or to talk in an inappropriate manner to a woman just cause she dressed up for a party or other special occasion, it's not about YOU. And men, our brothers, fathers, cousins, uncles, teachers, STAND UP for a woman who's being attacked or talked to inappropriately. Just as I said before, on my way to the opera, just looking nice, not even 'showing skin' (as some men find it 'justifiable' to treat someone showing 'some skin' with little respect) I was whispered disgustingly into my hear and I stood up for myself, but the young man that walked next to me said NOTHING and just walked away.

Let's support each other, let's respect each other and defend each other. IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT WOMEN STANDING UP FOR THEMSELVES, IT'S ABOUT US BOTH RESPECTING EACH OTHER AND PROTECTING EACH OTHER.

#Nomorerape #Letsstandtogetheragainstrape #Freedom #Respect

The Battle of the Erathiel: Across the Enchated Sea: Chapter 1: The Storm

1 THE STORM

T

he storm was the fiercest they had ever beheld. It was wave against wave and wave against ship. Rain poured brutally from dark clouds over the decks of the three ships, blinding all aboard who tried their best to stand their ground. Some helped evacuate the water so it would not sink their ship and others looked after the wounded as the harsh wind tattered the once white sails, which now hung eerily from above.

    “Hold on!” cried out Isilen, who with great strength and dexterity, managed to keep her ship from crashing into the occasional rocks that hid between the mighty waves. Her long, dark hair moved wildly behind her delicately pointed ears and her olive cloak danced recklessly about her body as the mighty wind snapped the brooch that held it together and snatched it away until it was lost in the dark, cloudy skies. She looked at the ship next to hers and saw the crew struggle against the wind and the rain.

    “Turion!” she called out over the booming thunder towards her ship’s colossal sails.

    “Princess!” shouted back a golden haired elf who treaded daringly on the main yard of the ship’s mighty mast. He jumped down and quickly made his way across the deck to where Isilen stood, his movements effortless though the ship rocked violently. “What is your command?”

    “I need you to board my father’s ship,” she said gesturing with the side of her head.

    He stopped to look at her. “Board your father’s ship?”

    “Yes,” she said.

    “But what about you, Princess?” he asked.

    “Nevermind that,” she replied, avoiding his eyes. “They need you more than I do. I will be fine.”

    “Isilen—” he began, taking a step closer to her.

    “—That is an order,” she interrupted, stopping him with her green eyes.

    He did not reply. Instead, he looked into them as if speaking to her with his mind.

    She knew she could send anyone to her father’s ship, and surely Turion did as well, but she could not shake the feeling that he had to go now. For a moment, it seemed as if he were about to speak, but before she could give him the chance, she diverted her gaze towards the front of the ship and spoke coolly, “Go now, Turion, before it is too late for them.”

    He hesitated once again and looked at her with frustration clear across his face, but there was nothing he could do or say to change her mind, so he lowered his head without protest and walked away. As he stepped onto the railing of the ship, his hands tightening on a lonely rope, he looked at her once more, and replied under his breath, “As you wish.”

    Isilen met his eyes just seconds before he leaped, but she did not say a word. She saw him land on the sister ship and make haste to help those aboard. The raindrops on her face trickled down as she turned her eyes away. He was safe.

    Turion landed firmly and quickly made his way to help secure the sails. The wind was fierce and the rain sharp on his hands, but he did not falter; only his eyes would wander from time to time to the ship nearby. The storm seemed lesser and the waves did not rock the ship as violently as before, but it was a silence that did not last long, for without warning, a massive wave rose as high as a mountain, blocking out the little light that peeked through the dark clouds above them. Turion felt the darkness surround him. He became paralyzed with the sight as the dark mass suspended itself high in the sky. In a matter of seconds, it came down with the intensity of a thousand blows but the wave did not fall on the three ships. It fell only on one, the third ship that floated nearby. The cracking of the mast, the groaning of the ship, and the cries of the people filled the air. Those aboard the other two ships looked upon the shattered one in horror.

    “Captain Nimel!” called out a strong voice from below deck. A very tall, silver-haired elf emerged from the flooded stairs. His clothes drenched in seawater but the weight did not slow his stride as he crossed the deck, his manners were strong yet elegant, and his bearing was that of a warrior. “Turn the ship around!” he commanded decidedly, “We must reach the others now!”

    “Aye, my king!” Captain Nimel shouted back as she turned the steering wheel with haste, ordering her crew to man the sails.

    The Elven King joined in and helped his people, but suddenly stopped as he found himself face to face with Turion.

    “Turion,” said the King, his eyes filled with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

    “King Thinidiel,” Turion replied as he continued to help the crew. “Isilen sent me.”

    “Isilen?” Thinidiel said under his breath, almost as if he were trying to remember something he had forgotten. Then a grave look crossed the King’s face as his bright silver eyes fell on the young elven warrior who looked up at him with concern. “You were supposed to stay with her, Turion.”

    He was about to reply but a strange, inhuman cry suddenly pierced the skies. They both turned instinctively to look at Isilen’s ship. She was standing before the mast, giving orders to her sturdy crew, but she too suddenly looked up and around to find where the cry had come from. Her eyes fell on them and she stopped to look at her father and Turion momentarily. But almost as if by an invisible hand, something violently pushed her ship away, across the sea, and into the darkness, making it look as fragile and as light as a leaf. It all happened so quickly and silently that it seemed too surreal to be true. Turion’s eyes widened from the sight and the king called out his daughter’s name into the dark, but it was too late. The ship was gone and so was she.

    Dark shadows began to crawl out of the water and make their way towards the remaining ship, hovering over the surface like dirty silk. They climbed up, blackening everything with their touch, and began taunting and attacking those aboard, taking the shape of their lost loved ones and terrible beasts. But the crew would not be so easily subdued. On deck or below, they drew their weapons—swords, daggers, axes, bows, and arrows—and began to fight the shadows off. Their steel would disintegrate the darkness but it would regain shape once again.

    Suddenly, a petite, raven-haired elf stepped onto the deck, cloaked in silver robes, a dark wooden staff in her hand with a silver fire glowing at its tip. She looked calm in her movements, but her emerald eyes were ablaze and held in them a fury that her people knew far too well. As she crossed the deck, unmoved by the rocking of the ship, the staff’s silver light grew brighter and the shadows gathered around her almost instantly like moths to a flame, but before she could strike them, two elves came running from the lower deck and began attacking the dark spirits that surrounded her. They were a contrast of darkness and light, one of golden hair and the other dark. They slashed at the shadows with their swords, causing them to disintegrate and then rejoin the rest of the dark shapeless mass that floated in the sky.

    “Go back!” cried out the she-elf, raising her staff towards the dark hive of spirits. “I command you, dark spirits. Leave now and return whence you came!” The hive reacted to the light she projected, flinching and twisting, but instead of retreating it threw itself back and then violently launched itself towards her.

    “Nimtar!” the King cried out as he saw the darkness approach her. He took mighty strides, crossing the deck to where she stood, his longsword ready to defend her, but he was unable to do so.

    As the darkness approached Nimtar, the silver light in her staff exploded and illuminated the sky. The shadowy figures screamed and withered away under its iridescent light, and the shadows below deck emerged, escaping into the darkness of the storm. The waves began to calm and the dark skies began to clear.

    “Mother,” said the two elves that defended her in unison.

    “Are you alright?” asked the one with the same raven hair as hers.

    “I am fine, Valruin. Thank you,” she replied with a smile. “And you? Camlhach?”

    The golden haired elf next to her nodded.

    Thinidiel and Turion approached her, but she did not let them speak.

    “Isilen? Where is Isilen?” Her voice was trembling and as she looked around she saw not her daughter’s ship.

    “My queen,” said Thinidiel softly, “her ship is gone. It was taken across the sea, but it was not destroyed.” Camlhach and Valruin looked up at their father in shock and then to the sea. There was no trace of their sister’s ship.

    “Then she may yet live,” she whispered almost to herself, a mixture of worry and hope across her brow. “Yes, of course she lives.”

    “We will find her, Mother,” spoke Camlhach reassuringly, his golden eyes looking into hers. Queen Nimtar nodded, but her eyes were now fixed upon the third ship. The storm had brutally destroyed both it and those aboard. She was about to whisper a prayer when she noticed that the storm had not yet finished its dirty work.

    Darkness grew below the remains of the ship and like a swirling underwater tornado, it began to spin. At first, the ship turned on its axis, but soon enough it began to descend. It was then that they heard the voices of those still alive. They cried out for help, in pain, and with a fear in their eyes that made all who watched shiver. In a matter of seconds, the sea sucked in what was left of the ship and crew into its mighty depths.

    They looked at one another with tears and broken hearts. What could they do now amidst the sea? One ship lost and the other destroyed.

- - -

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"The Battle of the Erathiel: Across the Enchanted Sea"

Hello all,

I hope everyone is doing well and that you've been enjoying my recent short stories. As you've probably read before, I started a fantasy series called "The Battle of the Erathiel" and have released the first book "Across the Enchanted Sea". In order to get a bigger audience and for more people to get to know the story of the Erathiel, I have decided to post the entire first book here. I'll start out with Chapter 1 and go on from there. I hope to get some response, perhaps a comment or two, to see if I actually should post it up entirely or not. If you like what you read, please buy a copy of my complete work here:

The Battle of the Erathiel

Best,

Constanza

Short Story: "Po' Kids" (Real Nightmare Ending)

This is the one with the real ending, which after a bit of thinking, I decided to share even though it's not as 'nice'. Though, I don't think any bit of this story can be labeled as 'nice'. The story changes only in the part where lil Jemma is found.

*    *    *

It wasn' rainin' but I knew that rain would soon fall from the skies. I'd gotten up early that day to help 'round the house, as usual. Mamma wouldn't be home till late and Pa', well, he was out huntin' and with all that work, with the peeling off the deer's skin and preparing the meat, well, he wouldn't have no time to help 'round the house or with my brothers. We weren't many, just Jemma and Curtis, but Curtis was as wild as ever and would always tease lil Jemma by takin' her doll away. 

"Don't be nasty, Curtis," I would say taking the doll from him and handing it over to my lil sis. She thank me with those sweet big blue eyes of hers. Sweetest lil girl in the whole town. No arguing about that, no how.

"You is nasty!" Curtis would say sticking out his tongue and running off to kick something in the yard or play around with Poe, our dog. 

"Po' dog! You is lost," is what Curtis said when we found him wandering near the road one day, back from buying some potatoes and drink for supper. "Poe, that's your name! You comin' home with me."

I remember Mamma wasn't too happy when we brought Poe home, she just sighed and shook her head but when she saw Jemma and Curtis' lil shiny eyes, she just couldn't say no. 

"Alright," she said, "but you kids gonna have to look after him. I have no time fo' dogs."

We promised we'd be real nice and real good to Poe and we were. Poe was as happy as any dog can be. We played with him real nice, washed him down by the river when he got real stinky. He looked so shiny after all the washin' and we got ourselves cleaned up, too. We had a tub at home but the water ain't always so warm, so if it gonna be cool, better be the river, we said.

Well, that day, that day when it rained real hard in the night, we decided to play around in the yard after the chores. We was havin' a great time with Poe and Jemma and Curtis. We ran and ran, and chased after each other, and Poe after us. The sun was hot and we got to sweatin' but we decided to go for a swim later down by the river. So we got even dirtier and rolled around and let Poe's paws get our arms and hands dirty. I could always scrub them clothes real squeaky clean before Mamma got home, so she wouldn' notice and Pa' would be busy as always, sleepin' on the couch, that shiny bottle in his hands.

"Let's go to the river," Jemma said with a smile. "Tara needs a bath!" She said laughing as she held up her doll all covered in mud. We laughed and made our way towards that old dirt road that always took us straight to the river.

The wind picked up, lifted up my skirt and Jemma's dress clear up but we just laughed and ran and Curtis and Poe led the way. We were about to reach the river when I heard Poe barking and Curtis shouting. I hard gunfire and Poe yelp, I ran as fast as I could and told Jemma to stay behind me but to keep outta sight till I told her to.

There was three boys. I'd seen 'em in school but we never really talked befo' 'cause they was older and they always was gettin' in trouble. Why did we have to go to the river that day? We couldn' have we stayed home like the other days. It was gonna rain, anyhow. But we went. We went.

One of 'em was holdin' back Curtis, tears streaming down his face like mud from all the dirt, trying to keep his eyes open, his eyes were on Poe. Poe wasn' cryin' anymore. He just lay there, still, at the feet of the boy with the gun. He had a big ol' grin across his face and a huntin' rifle in his hands.

"This your big sister here?" he asked Curtis and his shiny devil eyes looked into mine. I could feel my eyes burnin', Poe was dead and that boy had done it for no reason.

"Why you shoot our dog?" I asked bravely, not caring 'bout the gun in his hands. "You had no right! No right at all! And let go my brother!"

The two boys holdin' back Curtis just laughed and the one with the gun spit and took a step toward me. "That there dog attacked me! Try to bite me he did. I hadda shoot 'im!"

"Poe wouldn' hurta fly!" cried Curtis, half choking on the tears and his runny nose. "He wouldn' hurta fly!"

"Please," I asked, noticing the boys' looking all annoyed by Curtis's cryin'. "Let my lil' brother go. We won't tell a soul. If Poe attacked ya, I believe ya. Just let us go."

The boy with the rifle took a long pause and looked at me from the tip o' my head down to my shoes. He smiled, but it was a nasty smile, not like one a boy should 'ave. I shivered and I prayed to God Jemma would stay behind, wouldn' show her face. I prayed and prayed. 

"Please," I begged quietly and suddenly I didn' feel so big anymore.

The boy raised his rifle at me and I barely screamed, I gasped, I didn' wanna anger him mo', couldn' let 'im hurt Curtis or Jemma. But he didn' shoot me, instead he touched me with the tip of his gun, along my hair, along my face, down my belly and then down there. 

"Stop it," I begged but he smiled even more and he didn't remove the rifle from down there.

"I'll let ya'll go home, but you gotta do somethin' for me first," he whispered with malice in my ear. "You don' wan' yo' brother to get shot, too. Right?"

My heart was apoundin' and all I could think of was Curtis and Jemma had to be safe. I had to protect 'em. Always.

I nodded my head. "I'll do what you ask, just let my brother go home."

I wish I could tell you that the story ended there, that some adult was walkin' near the river and stopped the boys an' we got home safe an' sound, but I can't. I can't lie about this. It all happened so fast that I could hardly tell what was goin' on. He touched me first in places no one ever should, places Mamma said are not to be touched or seen by other people unless you was washin' yourself at home. Curtis started to yell for help and one of the boys hit him across the face. I saw blood. I struggled to help him but the boy put his gun against my belly an' said that I tried to move, he'd shoot 'im, he'd shoot 'im dead.

"Curtis, close your eyes," I said with tears coming down my face but they felt like fire, they burned and burned my eyes. "Close your eyes, darlin'. Look away, we'll go home soon, alright?"

"No, Ella," cried Curtis, blood running from his nose. "No, we go home now! Right now!"

"You gonna tell yo' bitch of a brother to shut the hell up or do I gotta shoot 'im to shut 'im up!" yelled the boy with the gun.

"No!" I cried holdind my hands together in prayer. "Please, I promise he'll be quiet now. He'll be quiet and I'll do whateve' you want. Please."

I looked at Curtis and he looked at me. "Honey, please. Don' scream, don' look, just close your eyes."

Big ol' tears filled his eyes and rolled down his muddy cheeks as he closed them and looked away. The boys smiled wickedly and the one with the gun used one hand to pull down the top of my dress, he ripped right through it, it wasn' an expensive dress. Mamma had made it fo' me. I cried but stood quiet and still. His face was gettin' red and his smile turned twisted and strange as he touched me with his hand. I wanted to cry and scream and die all at once but he didn' stop there. I wish he had. He pushed me to the ground and I heard the boys cheer 'im on. One of 'em had let go of my brother an' had his hand down his pants, touchin' his private parts. I wanted to die.

He got down on his knees and pulled down his pants, I didn' wanna look down but he told me to or else and I saw it and I wanted to run away, I didn' wanna be there but for Curtis, I had to. He told me to touch it and I did. I didn' mean to but I felt sick to my stomach, turned my head to the side and threw up. He yelled at me.

"Filthy bitch!" he yelled as he pressed the gun against my side and his body against me. I could smell his stench, I could smell everything, the smell that came from down there an' I felt I was gonna be sick again but I couldn't do it. "Do that again and your brother's dead!"

I nodded, real quiet, and that's when everything turned to a blur. First, I felt it, I felt him pushin' himself between my legs. It hurt, it felt bad, an' wrong, and it was all the worse hearin' him enjoyin' my pain. I bit my lip and looked away but he looked for my face. He pushed in and out again and again and I cried and cried but he wouldn' stop. I closed my eyes but I opened them 'cause I heard Curtis cry out. They lied. They lied.

"No!" I cried out an' I struggled to break free but he was too heavy an' too strong and pushed himself more and more against me. It hurt bad but what I saw hurt even more. "No! Curtis, no! Let him go! Let him go!"

I saw my brother and I heard his screams. I saw the two boys forcin' 'im down to his knees, then down to the ground. They pulled his breeches down, he fought an' fought but they was bigger than him. I cried "Lord have mercy! Lord let my brother go home!" but no one came to help us, no one came to rescue him. I couldn' move, I didn' care for the blood between my legs, I cared about Curtis, I cared about him. It all turned black.

When I woke up, I couldn' stand on my two feet. I crawl' to my brother. He wasn' screamin' no more, he wasn' talkin'. "Curtis!" I said, "Curtis, wake up!" but he wouldn' wake. He just lay still, his eyes open but he just wouldn' speak. I held him close, I heard his heart beat. I never felt so happy an' sad in my life. The boys had gone, Poe lied still near the willow tree that stood over us. I felt weak, I felt empty an' cold, but we hadda get home somehow. 

"Jemma?" I cried out suddenly remembering she had been there all along, hiding between the bushes. There was no reply. I put Curtis down gently and crawled towards the spot where she should be.

"Please, Lord," I remembering thinking, "Please let 'er be alright."

But when I got there, though she was there, I saw that she was not alright.

She was sitting on the ground, her pretty little white dress all torn up and stained with dirt and dark brownish-red blotches. I swallowed but I had no spit, no air, no nothing, just cold, cold fear in my belly. She sat there, Tara by her side, her head bashed in, she wasn' the pretty doll she was befo'.

"Jemma," I cried as I got closer, but she didn' look up, she looked straight ahead with a blank look in her eyes. "Jemma, darlin'."

She only whispered, "Poe. Po' Poe, po' Poe."

As I got closer I saw it, I saw somethin' I ain't never thought I would see in my life. Her little hands, her tiny little hands with her lil fingers all red an' covered in dirt were diggin' into the dirt, diggin' and gatherin' dirt in fron' of her spread little legs, her ripped bloodstained dress, and she was pushin' the dirt in between them. Pushin' hard and pushin' all the dirt inside her lil self.

"Jemma, no!" I screamed as I stopped her little hands from pushin' any more dirt in. I cried so hard as I held her close. Was she also feelin' pain inside? Was she also feelin' numb? "Oh, sweet Jesus!" I said holdin' her tight. She cried an' in her sweet lil voice she cried, "Poe, po' Poe."

"Poe," I said as I stroked her hair, not minding the blood stains on my dress, not minding the pain inside.

Po' Poe, po' kids. Why ain't nobody lookin' after us po' kids?

Short Story: "Po' Kids"

This story is based on a dream I had the other night. It was intense but I thought it'd make a good story. I repeat, intense, so if you're not into that, best not read.

*    *    *

It wasn' rainin' but I knew that rain would soon fall from the skies. I'd gotten up early that day to help 'round the house, as usual. Mamma wouldn't be home till late and Pa', well, he was out huntin' and with all that work, with the peeling off the deer's skin and preparing the meat, well, he wouldn't have no time to help 'round the house or with my brothers. We weren't many, just Jemma and Curtis, but Curtis was as wild as ever and would always tease lil Jemma by takin' her doll away. 

"Don't be nasty, Curtis," I would say taking the doll from him and handing it over to my lil sis. She thank me with those sweet big blue eyes of hers. Sweetest lil girl in the whole town. No arguing about that, no how.

"You is nasty!" Curtis would say sticking out his tongue and running off to kick something in the yard or play around with Poe, our dog. 

"Po' dog! You is lost," is what Curtis said when we found him wandering near the road one day, back from buying some potatoes and drink for supper. "Poe, that's your name! You comin' home with me."

I remember Mamma wasn't too happy when we brought Poe home, she just sighed and shook her head but when she saw Jemma and Curtis' lil shiny eyes, she just couldn't say no. 

"Alright," she said, "but you kids gonna have to look after him. I have no time fo' dogs."

We promised we'd be real nice and real good to Poe and we were. Poe was as happy as any dog can be. We played with him real nice, washed him down by the river when he got real stinky. He looked so shiny after all the washin' and we got ourselves cleaned up, too. We had a tub at home but the water ain't always so warm, so if it gonna be cool, better be the river, we said.

Well, that day, that day when it rained real hard in the night, we decided to play around in the yard after the chores. We was havin' a great time with Poe and Jemma and Curtis. We ran and ran, and chased after each other, and Poe after us. The sun was hot and we got to sweatin' but we decided to go for a swim later down by the river. So we got even dirtier and rolled around and let Poe's paws get our arms and hands dirty. I could always scrub them clothes real squeaky clean before Mamma got home, so she wouldn' notice and Pa' would be busy as always, sleepin' on the couch, that shiny bottle in his hands.

"Let's go to the river," Jemma said with a smile. "Tara needs a bath!" She said laughing as she held up her doll all covered in mud. We laughed and made our way towards that old dirt road that always took us straight to the river.

The wind picked up, lifted up my skirt and Jemma's dress clear up but we just laughed and ran and Curtis and Poe led the way. We were about to reach the river when I heard Poe barking and Curtis shouting. I hard gunfire and Poe yelp, I ran as fast as I could and told Jemma to stay behind me but to keep outta sight till I told her to.

There was three boys. I'd seen 'em in school but we never really talked befo' 'cause they was older and they always was gettin' in trouble. Why did we have to go to the river that day? We couldn' have we stayed home like the other days. It was gonna rain, anyhow. But we went. We went.

One of 'em was holdin' back Curtis, tears streaming down his face like mud from all the dirt, trying to keep his eyes open, his eyes were on Poe. Poe wasn' cryin' anymore. He just lay there, still, at the feet of the boy with the gun. He had a big ol' grin across his face and a huntin' rifle in his hands.

"This your big sister here?" he asked Curtis and his shiny devil eyes looked into mine. I could feel my eyes burnin', Poe was dead and that boy had done it for no reason.

"Why you shoot our dog?" I asked bravely, not caring 'bout the gun in his hands. "You had no right! No right at all! And let go my brother!"

The two boys holdin' back Curtis just laughed and the one with the gun spit and took a step toward me. "That there dog attacked me! Try to bite me he did. I hadda shoot 'im!"

"Poe wouldn' hurta fly!" cried Curtis, half choking on the tears and his runny nose. "He wouldn' hurta fly!"

"Please," I asked, noticing the boys' looking all annoyed by Curtis's cryin'. "Let my lil' brother go. We won't tell a soul. If Poe attacked ya, I believe ya. Just let us go."

The boy with the rifle took a long pause and looked at me from the tip o' my head down to my shoes. He smiled, but it was a nasty smile, not like one a boy should 'ave. I shivered and I prayed to God Jemma would stay behind, wouldn' show her face. I prayed and prayed. 

"Please," I begged quietly and suddenly I didn' feel so big anymore.

The boy raised his rifle at me and I barely screamed, I gasped, I didn' wanna anger him mo', couldn' let 'im hurt Curtis or Jemma. But he didn' shoot me, instead he touched me with the tip of his gun, along my hair, along my face, down my belly and then down there. 

"Stop it," I begged but he smiled even more and he didn't remove the rifle from down there.

"I'll let ya'll go home, but you gotta do somethin' for me first," he whispered with malice in my ear. "You don' wan' yo' brother to get shot, too. Right?"

My heart was apoundin' and all I could think of was Curtis and Jemma had to be safe. I had to protect 'em. Always.

I nodded my head. "I'll do what you ask, just let my brother go home."

I wish I could tell you that the story ended there, that some adult was walkin' near the river and stopped the boys an' we got home safe an' sound, but I can't. I can't lie about this. It all happened so fast that I could hardly tell what was goin' on. He touched me first in places no one ever should, places Mamma said are not to be touched or seen by other people unless you was washin' yourself at home. Curtis started to yell for help and one of the boys hit him across the face. I saw blood. I struggled to help him but the boy put his gun against my belly an' said that I tried to move, he'd shoot 'im, he'd shoot 'im dead.

"Curtis, close your eyes," I said with tears coming down my face but they felt like fire, they burned and burned my eyes. "Close your eyes, darlin'. Look away, we'll go home soon, alright?"

"No, Ella," cried Curtis, blood running from his nose. "No, we go home now! Right now!"

"You gonna tell yo' bitch of a brother to shut the hell up or do I gotta shoot 'im to shut 'im up!" yelled the boy with the gun.

"No!" I cried holdind my hands together in prayer. "Please, I promise he'll be quiet now. He'll be quiet and I'll do whateve' you want. Please."

I looked at Curtis and he looked at me. "Honey, please. Don' scream, don' look, just close your eyes."

Big ol' tears filled his eyes and rolled down his muddy cheeks as he closed them and looked away. The boys smiled wickedly and the one with the gun used one hand to pull down the top of my dress, he ripped right through it, it wasn' an expensive dress. Mamma had made it fo' me. I cried but stood quiet and still. His face was gettin' red and his smile turned twisted and strange as he touched me with his hand. I wanted to cry and scream and die all at once but he didn' stop there. I wish he had. He pushed me to the ground and I heard the boys cheer 'im on. One of 'em had let go of my brother an' had his hand down his pants, touchin' his private parts. I wanted to die.

He got down on his knees and pulled down his pants, I didn' wanna look down but he told me to or else and I saw it and I wanted to run away, I didn' wanna be there but for Curtis, I had to. He told me to touch it and I did. I didn' mean to but I felt sick to my stomach, turned my head to the side and threw up. He yelled at me.

"Filthy bitch!" he yelled as he pressed the gun against my side and his body against me. I could smell his stench, I could smell everything, the smell that came from down there an' I felt I was gonna be sick again but I couldn't do it. "Do that again and your brother's dead!"

I nodded, real quiet, and that's when everything turned to a blur. First, I felt it, I felt him pushin' himself between my legs. It hurt, it felt bad, an' wrong, and it was all the worse hearin' him enjoyin' my pain. I bit my lip and looked away but he looked for my face. He pushed in and out again and again and I cried and cried but he wouldn' stop. I closed my eyes but I opened them 'cause I heard Curtis cry out. They lied. They lied.

"No!" I cried out an' I struggled to break free but he was too heavy an' too strong and pushed himself more and more against me. It hurt bad but what I saw hurt even more. "No! Curtis, no! Let him go! Let him go!"

I saw my brother and I heard his screams. I saw the two boys forcin' 'im down to his knees, then down to the ground. They pulled his breeches down, he fought an' fought but they was bigger than him. I cried "Lord have mercy! Lord let my brother go home!" but no one came to help us, no one came to rescue him. I couldn' move, I didn' care for the blood between my legs, I cared about Curtis, I cared about him. It all turned black.

When I woke up, I couldn' stand on my two feet. I crawl' to my brother. He wasn' screamin' no more, he wasn' talkin'. "Curtis!" I said, "Curtis, wake up!" but he wouldn' wake. He just lay still, his eyes open but he just wouldn' speak. I held him close, I heard his heart beat. I never felt so happy an' sad in my life. The boys had gone, Poe lied still near the willow tree that stood over us. I felt weak, I felt empty an' cold, but we hadda get home somehow. 

"Jemma?" I cried out suddenly an' there between the bushes she was, walking quietly towards me. "Oh, thank God!" I cried with tears as she came to hug me. She hadn' been hurt, she hadn' been touched. "Oh, sweet Jesus!" I said holdin' her tight. She cried an' I could only hope she hadn' seen, she hadn' understood what happened, but in her sweet lil voice she cried, "Poe."

"Poe," I replied as I stroked her hair, not minding the blood stains on my dress, not minding the pain inside of me.

Po' Poe, po' kids. Why ain't nobody lookin' after us po' kids?

The Battle of the Erathiel: Book 2: Chapter 1 (Preview)

Chapter 1

The Captain

Isilen stood at the very end of the docks staring out into the sea, surrounded by its magnificent waters, listening to the waves as they came and went. It was still dark, sunrise was but a few minutes away and soon they would have to leave, but perhaps never return. The harbor was no longer as before, it was silent and the many posts where the fishermen used to shout their daily bargains were now empty, their weaved baskets barren and no customers in sight. Instead, the other side of the docks was where everyone was gathering. One by one, the lights from their houses went out and little lights from their lanterns followed the groups of people that made their way towards the sea. They looked like stars that had come down to play and danced among the heavy woods that made the land of Eidelvar.

She could see them from where she stood, but she had only looked back briefly to see the first groups arrive where the ships awaited. It was almost strange how fast the years had passed and now they found themselves running before Bragolthar’s return. Running had never been an option, fighting had always been the answer until they had witnessed true horror and loss. There was no other way now.

#TheBattleoftheErathiel #ConstanzaMayer #Fantasywriting #Fantasybooks #Newauthor #Magicaljourney

I'm back! (Again)

Hi guys!

Sorry I've been absent so long but that's because I'm working on the sequel to "The Battle of the Erathiel: Across the Enchanted Sea". Thanks to some great insight from some dear friends, I've come up with some ideas to start off book 2. I'll soon be posting more from each chapter as I go. I'm actually considering the idea of posting the official first three chapters from the first book just so you can get an idea of it. More than anything, I want the story of the Erathiel to spread across the world and it's just starting. Hope you enjoy this peek!