April's Rayne

Introduction

When April was being raped, she couldn’t think of anything except that moment. Not about the bills at her apartment piled up on the coffee table, the neighbor’s barking Chihuahua that kept her up all night, the boyfriend of two years who dumped her with a phone call, or even the dysfunctional childhood she endured. However, the moment right before April’s violator placed his hands between her legs she thought, " Oh God! Help Me!"

Amid her fear, she wished the heavens would open and produce her savior. Produce a miracle that would make her believe good conquers evil. Believe everything her Christian background had taught her, and in that moment, she needed God to solidify his existence.

Chapter 1

Years later, in her nightmares, the clunking sound of his boots pounded the cool earth and resonated in her ears. It contrasted with the delicate tapping of her feet. April’s senses were in panic mode, and she lost her black sandal pumps as she ran.

Fear, heavy and thick like the trees ahead threatened to keep her rooted. Branches and scattering rocks cut at her legs. Ripped holes in her skin. Holes big enough to leave scars. Scars that will always remind her of a memory she can’t erase.

The man, her predator, laughed. His joy sent fear to the pit of her stomach. The hair on her skin stood up, and she vomited. His laughter bellowed and echoed in her mind. It sounded familiar.

April’s sweat dampened her clothes, and made every gash burn. She rubbed her arm in her sleep. The burning sensation almost felt real.

He’s going to kill me! she thought.

Sweat dripped into her wide-open eyes blinding her vision. However, the darkness made April stretch her eyes wide. Mindlessly she looked up, the sky was unusually black. There were no hints of white, shades of gray, or tinges of purple. The moon was barely there and not one star twinkled.

Why me? she thought.

Seeing only a few inches in front of her, April looked wild-eyed at her surroundings. The trees, more black than green, were so damned thick. Every color faded into the other. The surrealism of it all let her know she was dreaming. But, the realism of this nightmare made her believe it was the truth.

The wind slammed against her face. April flung her arms trying to prevent the branches from causing more harm, more pain- from cutting her.

She was scared.

No one will even know I’m out here… she thought.

Her heart pounded hard, as if it were trying to beat out of her chest. Still, she kept running, even though her mind seemed to pause and wait, waited as if preparing to see the face of her death.

Tears streamed down her face.

Suddenly, April felt light. She was floating. Floating above the fear and the pain in her legs. A reminder again that she was dreaming. Having visual images of a nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

Just as her violator grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back, April rolled wildly in bed as if she had begun to fight. However, he had more strength than she could ever possess.

Scream! Why the fuck won’t you scream? her mind demanded.

She couldn’t find her voice. It wouldn’t be there to save her.

This man with overbearing hands snatched at the back of her black satin dress. Tugging hard until the soft material hung from her waist.

April used all the power within herself to fight. Nothing else mattered in the moment outside of getting away. She wanted to scream out for help, but her lips betrayed her.

Someone please help me! her inner self screamed. How can he do this to me? She questioned. "Why me?"

His calloused hand on her soft skin, creeping across her breast, made her voice come alive.

Help Me! Help… she bellowed out.

Again, he touched her.

Please… I’ll do whatever you want. April tried to bargain with him. Don’t hurt me, she cried.

But in her bed, she only whispered, Please.

She begged, until he slapped her hard. Everything in her head shook.

You’ll do what the hell I want! he said. His voice deep, angry, and muffled.

Still she fought.

Unconsciously. April made the sheets pull from the edges of her bed. The one hundred and eighty thread count cotton, encircled her torso like a cocoon, as if she would awake from this nightmare morphed into a new woman.

April would not let this man take what did not belong to him. She screamed hard. Fought harder. Even sank her teeth into his dank neck. They collided heads, and dug the other’s skin. He just laughed and smacked her until she fell silent.

When April was calm, he bent his head toward her ear and whispered, Don’t worry. I’m just giving you a present.

April felt herself fall further into unconsciousness, as if death had called her name. Only, April was nothing more than a witness to that death. The images of her predator groping her body were hazy. April knew she was dreaming. However, she couldn’t wake from this nightmare until she saw his face. Because somewhere deep inside she needed to know who would do this to her. Rape her, here on the ground, like she was scum.

April couldn’t take her eyes off his black mask. There was no hope of getting it off him. He held her down and tied her arms together. Then pulled them above her head and tied them to a tree. The only tree with color, full, and beautiful.

She was free to his will.

April turned and shuffled in bed. Again, she could feel the burning, this time from the rope as she tried to pull herself free.

Then there was red. A lot of it. In this place where she seemed to be a passerby, a fictitious soul like element reaching out to help the women on the ground. To save herself. From her worst nightmare.

April screamed out in pain as he sadistically penetrated her. The rapist balled his hand into a fist and hit her in the face. He broke the skin above her lip.

No! she cried out to the empty walls in her room.

Picture-less white walls. But, in her sleep there was color, red against a blossoming tree. Blood filled April’s mouth and became the glue that pasted her lips shut. Then, there was darkness. He’d placed tape over her eyes. Her senses were high, and she could feel him all over her.

Finally, April realized she could do nothing except wake up. Fade away from this tragedy, this nightmare. Because, the only means of fight she had left in her, was to close her eyes and pray.

Our father who art in heaven…

The rain fell and dripped down the sides of her face.

April’s tears soaked her pillow. She sat upwards in bed, shaking. It took her a moment to realize where she was. April could still feel the imprint of a hand resting on her thigh.

She had the same damned nightmare again. It was the third time this week she woke up sweaty, crying and remembering six years ago. It was late, dark and she was walking home from a party. April was passing by a wooded area, several blocks from her apartment, when she into them for safety. It was the only place to go, there was no other way.

That night was one of the lowest points in her life that contradicted itself, because she did receive a great gift from it. Just like he’d said she would. Her predator had provided half the genes to her daughter’s DNA. A daughter she was encouraged to abort.

Now, April stores that painful memory in the farthest region of her mind as she pushes her bangs off her forehead and lay back down.

Instantly, she bounced up. Her pillow was cold and wet. She got up, and searched for her slippers.

Grateful the bathroom was only across the hall, April thought, "This here floor is about to have a puddle to match my pillow."

She flipped on the switch. The light scattered throughout the bathroom and illuminated the blue walls. The shower and window curtains matched perfectly. The floor tile was deep blue with florescent gold flowers imprinted in the middle.

April rolled her pink cotton panties down her plump behind, and sat heavily on the toilet. She felt lighter releasing the strawberry mango coolers from the evening prior.

Who knew peeing could feel so damn good? she thought.

April sat there drifting within her thoughts, and replaying the nightmare. She knew there would be no going back to sleep. Instead, she brushed her teeth and splashed water on her over heated face. April caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She hadn’t slept in days. The bags under her eyes sagged, the circles were dark, and the creases were deep. April reached up and touched her new face. Suddenly, she felt worse. April dried her face and threw the towel in the hamper.

Before leaving she eyed the wooden shelf next to it. This had been her grandmother’s house before she passed away. Her grandmother who died right before April gave birth to Lovette, loved cherry wood. April missed her. Her grandmother is one of the few happy memories from her childhood.

April made her way down the hall stopping at her daughter’s room. Smiling she gently pushed open the door. Lovette’s head peeked from under the blankets. April eased across the room, and kissed her cheek. Then, she ran her hand down Lovette’s thick plaits.

Thank you, God. her mind praised.

Despite the way Lovette was conceived, nothing could out shine her daughter. Lovette is the best thing that has ever happened in her life. April kissed her again, and crept out of the room.

Daylight wouldn’t break for another three hours.

She peeked into her studio. Most of her nights were spent in this room letting go of her feelings. Despite not being a classroom artist, April loved Art. Her ignorance to the culture wouldn’t stop her from creating life on canvas. Her feelings and life alone were the only certificate of approval she needed to deem her capable of artistry.

April sought pleasure in the feel of paint between her fingers, and its earthy aromas. She felt alive when paint met brush, and glided across a canvas. She found liberation turning steady lines into anything she wanted. It didn’t matter the paints- watercolors, oils, or acrylics, she loved them all. Painting was like ecstasy in her veins, taking her to a place she’d only experience for a few hours.

The Studio had a single floor to ceiling window. That back drop of nature gave the room a peaceful atmosphere. April, a dreamer, would gaze out of it towards the sky as if she could see past the moon and clouds.

Despite the peaceful atmosphere of the room, a heavy thought entered April’s mind. She shook it off thinking, "Stop it! Just, stop it! It’s not even worth my time."

April refused to be uptight and bent out of shape over issues that’s happened in the past.

I am not a victim! she told herself.

April didn’t want sadness and pain to control her. Life experiences has taught her, things that has happened, didn’t happen, or should have happened are irrelevant. Only the present matters, and right now she is a blessed woman. All grown up and fulfilled.

April headed to the kitchen for a cup of chamomile tea. The dimmed hall lighting prevented her from bumping into anything, and stubbing one of her long toes. April was clumsy. She spilled half the cup by the time she made it back. Still, the tea was prepared just the way she liked it, and tongue burning hot.

Back in the room, she put on smooth jazz and began slicking red paint, the color of her nightmares, horizontally across the 18x24 inch canvas. Immediately, April became consumed in the moment, time was lost to her.

In this hour, April dreamt of all the places she’d like to visit, and things she’d like to do before leaving the earth. Then, there was a moment of silence in between, when all thought was lost and she became fully engaged. That’s when she noticed she’d painted over the entire canvas. A canvas that held only fragments of her dreams. Dreams that made her forget about her nightmares. Dreams of love.

Chapter 2

Mallory kneeled in her garden pruning roses. The white and red flowers bordered the front of her home. It took her two years to learn how to care for them properly. And now, they were blooming beautifully in Jersey’s June weather. Mallory dug her hands into the cool earth and removed the weeds. She wiped away sweat, leaving a streak of dirt across her forehead.

As Mallory stood and grabbed the water hose, she felt cool lips kiss the place between her cheek and ear. Her head tilted back and rested against Jeremy’s muscular chest.

The pair have been married for almost five years. Their anniversary was in three months and she couldn’t wait to celebrate. More so, she couldn’t wait to prove to everyone they were happy, and the flames still burned.

She was proud of her little family.

"This is what I’ve always wanted," she thought.

Mallory turned on her flat-bottomed feet and passionately returned the kiss.

I love me some him. she thought.

For Mallory, Jeremy is the source of her oxygen. She cannot breathe, nor live without him. In fact, she will not live without him.

My man. My husband. My lover. My everything. she thought.

Mallory’s love bordered on a touch of insanity and virtue. It’s been this way since she met Jeremy at the mall, on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. Hours after meeting they found themselves talking, and sharing a single cone of ice cream. Mallory did something that day that she would have never done before. She disregarded the morals and values, her middle-class parents reared into her. Instead, she ventured to possibilities of a future, not catered by her parents. She fell in love with a stranger.

Mallory lay on the beach that day, under the setting sun, in a man’s arms whose parents she didn’t even know. That evening, Mallory chose to accept all that Jeremy told her about his life. Whether it was truth or deception, she accepted it. Because Mallory needed, for a second, to see what it felt like to indulge in a moment of lust. The kind of lust, that has been portrayed as the sin of man, un-marital sex. She chose to partake in this sin, even if it led to disaster. Mallory needed to let her guard down, and become liberated.

In that short time, Mallory felt something for Jeremy she never felt for any man before. She had sex with him that day. As the sand clung to her thighs, Mallory enjoyed every second of being in his arms. They kissed as if it were their last, and groped like they’d just discovered the difference between man and woman. That day, has turned into the here and now. And, Mallory has never regretted any of it.

She considered her husband’s hazel, sometimes deep green or light brown eyes. She couldn’t believe how long it’s been since they first met. Jeremy’s face has matured, but his eyes remained the same.

Mallory intertwined her soiled hand with Jeremy’s. They walked to the front of the house, in the way that lovers do, close and touching. The heat of lust rose between them. As they climbed the steps, Mallory used her free hand to role her thumb over Jeremy’s nipple. His chest was sweaty.

Jeremy’s daily exercise routine has grown and suited him well. The thin flab that used to be his midsection was now a firm pack of six. His arms and thighs were rock hard. She could attest to his strength and stamina. Mallory loved whenever Jeremy lifted her into the air. She’d wrap her legs around his waist and giggle. Then they’d go at it all night.

Mallory lowered Jeremy’s head and kissed his thick lips. Her tongue toured, tasted what she already knew well.

Jeremy pushed the front door open. Immediately, they began tearing at their clothes. They touched, kissed, and moaned. They breathed hard. Filling their senses with the pleasure of each other. They raced up the stairs oblivious to the ringing phone, and the blaring television.

Suddenly, Mallory jumped at the sound of a loud thump. She turned in time to see her husband rolling on the floor. Jeremy’s foot stuck in his pants, and he tumbled like a captured animal. Mallory bent over, grabbing her stomach and laughed. She laughed until her stomach hurt, and eyes filled with tears.

Your ass is hanging out! she laughed.

She could see amusement in Jeremy’s eyes too, even though he pretended to be an angry mad man struggling to get free himself.

Oh, you think this is funny huh? Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m going to get you, and when I catch you- I’m going to torture you until you… cream… all over this place.

But, he thought, Thank God for carpet.

Mallory played along. She ran for her life. Hurried to get away before Jeremy freed himself of his home-made shackles.

Mallory cultivated that thought. She couldn’t imagine hard, cold steel placed around the ankles of anyone she loved. Especially, not her husband. She wouldn’t have the strength to watch his dignity, respect and pride disintegrate into nothing. His reality would be in knowing that the justice system is not equal for all mankind, especially a black man.

Mallory allowed those thoughts to come and go, like a child she still wanted to play. Feet rushing into the bedroom, she hid inside their walk-in closet. Buried herself behind two-year-old suits, and silk ties. The woodsy scent of her husband’s cologne surrounded her. She inhaled his presence.

Mallory realized, she could not live without the scent of him near her, nor wake to the light of the morning without him beside her. How could she not be the woman to bare him children, to harvest his seed in her womb?

He is perfect and I’ll do anything for him. Anything... she thought.

Jeremy crawled around the room looking under the bed, in the closet, and finally the bathroom.

Where’d she go so fast? he wondered.

Jeremy turned to go in the opposite direction when he heard rumbling. Jeremy twisted his head, parallel to his shoulder, and his eyes focused in on the closet.

I looked in there… he thought again.

Jeremy smiled knowing his wife was about to become his prey. He planned on taking what was rightfully his, her body. Jeremy was hard, and he needed to relax the tension building in his groin.

Mallory sensed her husband knew where she was. The rustling of his feet and heavy breathing had stopped. The quiet became eerie, as if she was waiting on a deep secret she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. Mallory peered through the crack in the door, and saw Jeremy looking her way. As he approached the door she jumped out into his arms.

Got you!

Jeremy’s eyes widened as he laughed at her childish antics. God, he loved this woman, the mother of his child. His other half.

Yeah you got me alright. Now I’m going to get you.

Only if you catch me. Mallory replied with a smirk. She tried to dive across the room, but her body wouldn’t oblige.

Jeremy reached out and wrapped his arms tight around her waist. Smothering Mallory’s face with his, Jeremy kissed her hard. Kissed her until he knew there was weakness in her knees, and she couldn’t run. Tasting the goodness of her mouth, he too became weak. Her mouth made him want to taste other parts of her. Jeremy undressed her slow.

Without thinking, Mallory allowed him to do as he pleased.

They let their fingers rest in places no other man or woman should ever be privy to again. They explored like scientist. Kissed like honey had fallen from heaven, sealing their lips together.

Then they laughed realizing how salty they both tasted.

Let’s shower, she whispered.

Under warm water their heads were drenched as they continued to whisper words only the other could hear. They washed away each other’s dirt and sweat, letting it fall to their toes, circle the drain, and settle below the pipes.

Mallory could only think, "I want to drain his pipe."

They loved in a way that was both hot and cold. In a place between aggression and a slow burn. The moment became Mallory’s greatest joy, and Jeremy’s greatest nut.

It was a moment where Mallory could almost have forgotten their relationship had ever been tampered with. Before their vows to God, Jeremy had slept with another woman. She never found out who it was. However, her love for Jeremy helped her anger subside a long time ago.

I promise it was a onetime deal. I’ll never do it again, he’d said.

Although, she has forgiven him, Mallory never forgot.

From then on, Mallory vowed she would do whatever was necessary to keep her man happy. The only way she saw that being possible was to have more children. She always wanted to have a big family, at least four children. Jeremy thought one was more than enough and is completely against it. But, Mallory’s mind was made up.

He’ll never leave his children, she thought.

Mallory remembered Jeremy’s reaction when he found out about her pregnancy with Nadia. But, when she was born, Jeremy seemed to die and come back a new man. He began to live the moment Nadia breathed her first breath. With the new life in his arms, he became hopeful, and optimistic. His attitude changed completely. Nadia became his first love, and she his second.

As a proud father, he would share the news with anyone who would listen. Mallory knew he would feel that same way again.

That’s why, in this passing moment, in which they licked, sucked and partook in each other’s essence, Mallory did nothing to retrieve the diaphragm or opened box of condoms from the cabinet. She had long since taken her pill, and was fully aware this was the perfect time to get pregnant. At least the app on her phone told her so.

Whether he agrees to it or not, I will have the family I always wanted, her mind confirmed.

Mallory gave in to the orgasm that bolted through her body. She trembled in his arms, and he in hers. Mallory felt the sticky substance of his semen flow down her thighs. She was happy and content.

Meanwhile, Jeremy was happy just to be spending time with his wife. This woman he had vowed to love years ago was nothing short of an angel, and he loved riding her wings.

Jeremy is stronger with her. Stronger than what he believes he could ever be without her. Before they married, Jeremy had many complexes, they were hidden behind his masculine exterior. He didn’t like much of who he was and the person he was becoming. His social life and future was slim to none. Jeremy was a recluse. He was suicidal, and Mallory saved his life the day they met.

Mallory showed Jeremy that even in the most unfertile of soil, life can sprout. She was the one to plant a seed of hope in his heart, and over the years something else began to sprout there too. It was powerful, and overshadowed that hope. Some days Jeremy was unsure if he could continue being a good husband, and wondered if he was even worthy of her love.

I love her more than myself, he thought.

Still, Jeremy must constantly draw on the strength of their love, to intimidate him into forgetting his lustful desires for another woman. There was a burning desire trying to come between their love. He honestly felt their love may not even last until death, as he had promised.

In fact, Jeremy had already broken that promise to Mallory. Even though he had made that vow in front of God, and every other important person in their lives. Because in his mind, day in and day out, he was committing adultery. Jeremy wants nothing more than to be Mallory’s one and only, forever. But, this other woman tugs at his heart and loins.

I’m confused. he thought.

Jeremy’s visions of this other woman made him feel like she lived inside of him. Dwelling in the deepest regions of his heart. And, her face doesn’t belong to the woman he just released himself into a minute ago.

Jeremy felt sad and guilty. Nowadays when he made love to his wife, he thought of her.

A tear fell from his eye.

Mallory gazed at her husband’s face. She watched that tear descend his cheek. She lifted herself onto her wrinkled toes, and kissed the tear that sat in his dimple.

Mallory felt strength from the tear escaping his eye every time they made love. It was this signature that led her to believe no one could love Jeremy as much as she. Especially, if this simple act of making love made him emotional. Mallory was certain, no matter what, Jeremy would be hers forever.

Chapter 3

M ommy, mommy. Wake up! Lovette shouted in April’s ear.

April squinted wiping sleep from her eyes. Mouth water ran up April’s arm, and her head felt heavy. The clock on her nightstand read 7:30 a.m. She had done it again, falling asleep right before dawn, and was now running late.

God, I have to hurry up! she shouted jumping to her feet.

April needed to have Lovette dressed, fed, and ready for school in forty minutes.

"If only I can get some sleep at night." she thought.

I’m hungry mommy, can we eat now? Lovette whined.

Lovette’s eyes were dreamy and her smile wide.

Sure, Sweetheart let’s get you dressed first.

Hurriedly they dressed, brushed teeth, and combed hair.

Moments later, April was giving Lovette a bowl of cold cereal. However, Lovette could care less for the colorful O’s in milk. She began to whine.

April gave her an intense look that said, "I wish you would!"

Lovette ate in silence. She dared not to defy her mother.

But, the look on Lovette’s face, and the tears she was clearly fighting back made April soften. She suddenly wanted to cook anything Lovette wanted.

It’s my fault we’re late again, she thought, guilt claiming her.

Kissing Lovette’s forehead she said, I’m sorry baby. Mommy will cook you a good dinner tonight okay.

Lovette smiled, happy again, and her childhood woes already forgotten.

Alright! Fry chick’n and mac and cheese, pleaseee... Lovette beamed at April.

No problem baby, but only under one condition. Hurry up!

Lovette shoveled cereal into her mouth, eager for tonight’s promise.

April knew the amount of time it would take to prepare dinner. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t disappoint her daughter twice in one day. Especially, since the day just began.

Nobody likes being messed with early in the morning, not even a child, she thought.

April busied herself and drank a cup of coffee. In record time, they were prepared for the new day with attaché case, pocketbook, book bag, and keys.

April headed to Mallory’s house in a hurry trying to keep to the speed limit. Peering through the rearview mirror she could tell Lovette was eager to get there. Mallory is the only other person in Lovette’s life that can do no wrong.

This girl loves her Aunty Mal, she mused.

Mallory has been there since April pushed Lovette out of her womb.

"I guess that’s her other mother," she thought again.

If it ever came to a point where April couldn’t do, or needed help, Mallory would be right there waiting to step in. April smiled at the thought of seeing Mallory too.

During the twenty minutes’ drive, down Route 42 she thought back to when they first met. They hated each other. In the beginning April tried to impress Mallory, and, Mallory just made fun of April. After a while, April gave back the same attitude and behavior Mallory would dish out to her.

We were just kids, she thought with glee.

They were pre-teens in the 8th grade, and destined to tear the other’s eyeballs out, and feed them to Mrs. Baker’s dogs. Mallory was popular, and thought everything was her territory. April, on the other hand, fought hard to steal that away.

April didn’t have many friends. And, she didn’t come from a fancy home like Mallory. April’s upbringing was the complete opposite. April grew up moving from foster home to foster home in Jersey’s most relic, and brutal inner city. She was a Jersey girl with big dreams of moving away from the city, and into a small town.

Some people thought she was a little backwards, but April knew she had the right idea. She wanted to be in a place where there were trees, flowers, and real parks. A place where the people smiled back at you from time to time, and not curse at you