Rated PG
© 1999 Tracy Boardman @ daz@scuby.freeserve.co.uk
based on some characters
and situations originated by James Cameron
Rose was very afraid. She sat in silence in the parlour listening to the idle chatter. Did these women have nothing other in their
lives than clothes and social events? Did no one notice how Cal had grabbed her? No, because no-body cared, not even her
mother. Rose felt sick with fear. She clung to the hope that maybe Cal would get so drunk he would pass out in the drawing
room.
One by one the guests left except a couple of the men who wanted to finish the brandy off first. With the women gone and her
Mother retired for the evening, Rose fled upstairs.
She changed into her nightdress and sat at the dresser. When she had removed her gloves she saw the dark bruises on her arm.
Her heart was thumping and she still felt sick with fear, partly because she didn't know what would happen when Cal emerged,
partly because she did.
Then came the bang of feet on the stairs. Panic began to rise and she fought for breath.
Cal flung open the door. It hit the wall with a bang that seemed to resound within Rose's chest.
"Well?" he demanded.
"Well what Cal?" Rose tried so hard to keep calm but she was shaking and her voice came out so weak.
"I forbid you to go out of the house. You disobeyed me." Cal moved towards her. Rose got up quickly from her stool and began to
back away. Her heart was thudding so hard against her ribs it was almost painful, her breath came in snatches. Her mind wouldn't
work; it was swirling like a fast flowing river, nothing tangible for her to grasp. And still Cal came towards her, a menacing drunken
figure with rage in his dark eyes. Rose thought she was going to be sick where she stood. Still he came towards her; it was like
slow motion yet she knew it was happening all so very quickly. Then she was against the wall, trapped, unable to get away. And
Cal was there, grabbing her jaw in his hand, pushing her head back against the wall.
"Well I thought you'd learned a few things about being a good wife this week. I was wrong"
Rose was squeaking with fear and pain. She felt, with relief, Cal's hand relax on her jaw. She snatched another breath and was
taken by surprise by the blow he dealt her across the left cheek. She stumbled to the right with the force of the blow but Cal
caught her arm and pulled her back.
"I will teach you do as you are told" he slurred and half dragged, half threw her over towards the bed, then on it. She lay there in a
heap, whimpering like a frightened child. Cal began to undo his trousers. Rose desperately tried to make her mind work. She tried
to scramble off the bed and ended up on the floor on the other side. Cal hadn't expected her to move and it took a few seconds to
register in his drink numbed brain that she had got off the bed. Rose was on her feet when Cal grabbed her again. He moved to
throw her back on the bed, but he caught himself off balance and instead of landing on the bed, Rose ended up on the floor hitting
the side of her head on a chair as she fell.
Rose lay there dazed and unable to move. Her chest hurt, her arm hurt, her face hurt. In fact she wasn't sure what didn't hurt. She
couldn't fight anymore. She lay and hoped Cal would just finish her off and put her out of her misery. The river was still flowing
through her mind, with nothing to grasp. She became vaguely aware of Cal's feet near her, then they seemed to go away. She still
lay there. Cal didn't touch her. She dragged herself up a little and felt something trickle down the side of her face. She gingerly put
a hand up to it. It was blood. She carefully sat up and hugged her knees, rocking back and forth, her body racked with sobs. Oh
Daddy, was all she thought. I can't go through with this. I'm only eighteen, I cannot put up with this for another fifty, sixty years.
Rose was totally wretched. If I killed Cal, I would go to prison. If I killed myself, he could never touch me or hurt me again.
Her mind was swirling and racing again. Cal kept a gun in his bureau in the study. Suddenly, out of all the madness, it became
the only thing that made sense. To end it all and never face Cal again.
Rose staggered to her feet. She touched the blood again on her face and looked at her fingers. Almost in a trance she walked out
of the bedroom, across the landing to the stairs. Her heart was thumping again, so loud she thought it would wake up the house.
She padded softly down the stairs and across the hall, not noticing how cold the marble floor was. Cal's study was not locked and
Rose went in and over to the bureau. Her mind was totally fixed on one thing.
She opened the bureau drawer, but the gun wasn't there. With a desperate cry she tried the next drawer and the next. Then she
saw it in the bottom drawer. She picked it up. It was cold and hard and heavy in her hands. But Rose didn't notice this. She had
only thing on her mind. To end her misery.
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