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Mary crept into the woods, following closely behind Matthew.
“Matthew, it’s really dark and I’m wearing high heels here.”
Matthew looked back. He glanced down at her shoes, then back to her face. Grabbing her hand, he started to pull her along impatiently.
“You’ll be fine. It’s only a bit of mud, just walk on your toes.”
“You’re hurting me!”
“You’re annoying me!”
Mary pulled back and began to cry.
“Matthew, let me go!”
“Just hurry up and stop crying!”
Matthew continued to pull Mary along, ignoring her snivels. She tried to break free again, but he was too strong for her. He’d told her they were going to a party in the clearing by the lake.
“There’s no party, Matthew, is there?”
“We can make our own party. Here…we’ll do it here.”
Mary looked down at the dirty mud-smeared ground.
“Do what? You don’t really expect me to…”
Matthew threw Mary to the ground and immediately forced his weight upon her. She screamed loudly. Within minutes he’d pushed her skirt up and pulled down her pants. She hadn’t known him long. She’d hoped his manners would match his stunning looks. They didn’t. He was cruel to the core. Yes, she knew he was desperate to have sex with her, but she had no idea he was as aggressive as he most evidently was. He took her there and then, without remorse and amid heart-breaking screams of distress and pain. She was weak under him and could only pray he would be quick.
All of a sudden it became so dark, neither could see a thing. Matthew, having finished, got up quickly and Mary could hear him zipping up his trousers. He was still breathing heavily. She struggled to her feet, trying desperately to rearrange her clothing, while also thinking of the best way to get away from Matthew before it became light enough for him to follow her. She listened. Nothing. No footsteps, no sound from him at all.
“Matthew?”
Instinctively, Mary tried to feel around for him or at least find somewhere safe to stand or sit until the darkness passed. The moon had been smothered in black clouds and she was sure a storm was on its way.
“Oh this is all I need. Matthew…you’re such a bastard. You do that and then just leave me here!”
Light slowly sneaked back through the tree branches above and Mary could once more see her surroundings. Matthew was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a small boy dressed in what seemed to be some sort of fancy dress costume. Surprised to see him there, Mary took in a sharp audible breath. The boy smiled at her.
Mary laughed with relief and, although all she wanted to do was run home as fast as she could, she knew she had to make sure this sweet little boy was reunited with his mother or father first. She wiped away some of the tears that were still slowly trickling down her cheeks and tried to smarten herself up as best she could.
“Come on, we should go and find your mother. Is she at the party? The one at the lake?”
The boy looked up above Mary’s head and as she followed his gaze she saw a pair of shoes. They were Matthew’s and he was still wearing them. Above them was Matthew, hung high in a tree by his neck. Mary stared up with her mouth open, unable even to speak. She looked at the boy and, as she did so, heavy droplets of blood interrupted her focus on him. He smiled at her again. Both looked back up at Matthew, whose lifeless body was now swinging about randomly in the high winds. He now had a deep gash in his belly from one side to the other. As Mary continued to take in the gory sight, a further gash appeared down the length of his torso. His insides began to fall away from his body and dangled far below.
Mary caught herself half smiling, then stopped herself and glared at the little boy, studying him a bit more. He was very small and wore a white gown with cute teddy bear buttons on it. He held out his hand to take hers. She was reluctant to touch him at all and, judging by his indifference to the scene above their heads, it was obvious he was somehow connected to it. The boy looked a little sad that Mary hadn’t taken his hand. His eyes filled with tears.
“Forgive me. I was trying to protect you.”
Mary looked up at Matthew again. She felt it should all be a dream. Mostly because she was completely at ease with his death. Why wasn’t she running for help? He’d been a bastard to her, but he was dead now. Hanged. Murdered. She went to look back at the boy, but he’d gone. She knew she’d have to tell someone what had happened and looked round on the ground for one of her shoes, which had fallen off while Matthew was raping her. She looked up at him again. Her half smile turned into one of great satisfaction.
“You deserved this.”
As she walked towards the edge of the wood a pale, almost translucent figure followed a few paces behind. It was the little boy. Mary turned round, sensing he was there. She nodded and smiled at him.
“I know who you are now.”
As he began to fade to nothing before her very eyes, she placed the palm of her hand very gently on her abdomen.
“…and now it’s my turn to look after you.”
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Am I too late to save your soul then?