The Decimation of Mae (The Blue Butterfly) (3 page)

“No!” I shook my head furiously, my instincts still
fighting the bastard all the way. Fuck him and his
punishment
. Fuck him
and his
demands
! I was built to fight, my mind moulded to deny any
submission. If he wanted me then I wasn’t about to make it easy for him. I was
created to conflict anything hostile, therefore making this not just harder on
myself but, almost gleefully, a lot more challenging for him.

The light disappeared as my body crashed into the water,
the slap against the surface stung my back even through the material of my top.
It was warm and almost pleasurable, its comfort embracing me and soothing my
body slightly. I surfaced and coughed, spluttering on the little water that had
managed to trickle into my lungs. My eyes tingled with the chemicals in the
water as I pushed my hair from my face.

“I warned you, Mae. Now you’ve just made this a whole lot
more stimulating. I repeat, take – off – your – clothes.”

“No!”

I pushed back and started to swim across the water, my
arms aching as the fear coursing through me swallowed up my adrenaline.
Although I was usually a good swimmer, I wasn’t world class but I wasn’t an
amateur, the panic riding me made the task torturous and gruelling, my muscles
appealing with me to give up and grant them respite.

I palmed the edge of the pool and pushed myself up.
Fingers curled around my ankle and pulled me back. I hadn’t heard or felt him
slip into the water behind me. As he tugged my leg, his other hand pressed down
on the top of my head until I was completely underwater; his sheer strength held
me exactly where he wanted me, a few inches below the surface.

I grappled with him as the oxygen rapidly depleted from
my lungs. I hadn’t managed to take much of a breath before he’d plunged me
under and my lungs struggled at the withdrawal of their stimulant. I kicked at
him as a haze surrounded my vision and an almighty burn blistered my nostrils
and throat.

He didn’t relent, his firm grip rendering me powerless
under him as he showed me exactly who was boss.

My lungs heaved in vast amounts of air when he removed
his hand and dragged me to the surface. The noises my throat emitted were
somewhat embarrassing, well they would have been if I had given a damn about
what Daniel thought of me.

“Next time, I promise I will not grant you another
lifeline. The next time you disobey, you will die.” He was so blunt and
carefree with his statement that I knew he would keep his word.

I nodded in defeat, hating myself for submitting but
acknowledging that if I wanted to live there was nothing more to be done.

“Now, once more. Remove your slutty clothes.”

I lowered my face, not wanting to see the victory in his
eyes as I tugged off my top. The weight of the water made my efforts slow and
difficult but I managed to pull it off and kept my gaze on the red material as
it sunk slowly to the bottom of the pool whilst I dragged at the wet denim
covering my legs.

I wouldn’t describe what I felt as humiliation when my
nudity was exposed to him; it was more of a deep sorrow. All that raced around
my thoughts was that the first man to ever see me naked since my father was a
man who I could have fallen in love with. Daniel’s gentility and attentiveness had
appealed to me, had made me realise exactly what I was looking for. He had been
my ideal, a man I could have spent long nights making love to, a man I could
have given my soul to, but he took both those ideals and turned them into
something evil and sordid, twisting my hopes and dreams into something cruel
and mocking.

“Look at me, little lamb.”

I lifted my head but fixed my gaze on the wall behind his
shoulder, still refusing him all of my surrender. He pinched my chin between
his fingers and slowly directed my face until I was looking straight into his
eyes. “I am the sort of man who will relish in your defiance, Mae. Believe me,
I would love nothing more than to fight you, to take you hard and punishingly, to
bruise you and make you bleed. But I’ll admit there’s something about you that
I like so I’m willing to make this easy for you.”

The way he spoke brought on a warm glow, a relief that he
liked me. His acceptance made my belly flutter.

It was this realisation that made me spin my head and
vomit on the surface of the water. How could a monster bring out these feelings
of need and want? How could someone who was about to hurt me make me crave his acceptance
and then bask in the small amount of praise he gave me?

Nausea and anger brought my tears as I finally submitted
and let him take what he wanted. I wasn’t worthy of any more anyway; the way I
had delighted in his approval made me as sick as him.

He sighed as though disappointed in me before he told me
to climb out and stand facing the wall.

I did as he asked without hesitation or argument. I had
given in, completely handed myself over to him. Whether it was instinct that
took away my fight or whether my brain realised it was this or die, I wasn’t
sure, but I abandoned any hope that this was all a mistake and I would be
leaving there with my soul unbroken.

“See how easy it is? How simple this whole thing will
pass if you obey?”

I nodded. I knew it was expected as I murmured a yes to
accompany the gesture. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, the heat
from him trickling across my wet skin as a shiver ravaged my body. “Now bend
forward and palm the wall.”

I closed my eyes and slid my hands along the cool tiles,
concentrating on the texture of the smooth surface.

A solitary tear slipped from the corner of my eye as
Daniel took my innocence in a single thrust. I never felt the pain of losing my
virginity, all I experienced was an overwhelming numbness that rolled over me
like a mist across the morning tide. A detachment surrounded me as his fingers
curled around my hips and he began to groan.

It’s funny how you think you’ll react when being raped.
I’m not sure how other people saw it but I always imagined I’d scream and cry
and fight, but in the moment, in the actual moment that a man took away my
soul, I felt nothing.

I closed my eyes as another tear leaked from me, just a
sole one, a lonely one that craved the comfort of its partner and chased it
down my face quickly as it tried to gain solace from its mate. I wanted to
catch it on my finger before it dripped off my chin and abandoned me. I needed
it to remain with me; the only sensation I could feel was its trickle down my
face and I had an overwhelming feeling that when it managed to leave me, it would
take the remaining parts of my spirit with it.

But it didn’t hear my pleas; it didn’t wait to see the
massacre unfold as it fell from my face and splashed on the floor by my little
toe.

My mother’s smile comforted me as Daniel thrust harder
and clawed at my back, his nails scraping the skin on either side of my spinal
column as he grew feverish and animalistic. I was flung around. My knees
crashed on the hard floor as a hand pushed my head down until I was completely
flat against the floor, my cheek squashed against the unforgiving coldness of
the floor tiles. Yet, still I remained unfeeling and disconnected.

Comfort came in the image of my mother’s beautiful smile
and happy eyes as she took my hand and led me across the field. The swallows
were out, their silhouettes gliding against the sunlight, providing shadows to
dance across the strip of sunlight marking our path through the trees. Their
song was a pretty one, as though they welcomed me and my mother to their home,
their happy calls of pride in their habitat brought my mother’s laughter.

Another tear fell as I felt him become more frenzied.
Yule, our three-year-old Scotty dog, bounced after a stick my mom threw, his
tail swishing happily as he chased and fetched. I laughed when he leapt after a
squirrel and dived straight into the stream. He had never been a good judge of
his surroundings, his constant knocks and grazes against all things in his path
had been the bane of my parents’ life with expensive vet bills, but their love
for Yule had seen them fork out hundreds after hundreds.

I started to sing with my
dead Mother as she grinned happily at me.
Somewhere over the Rainbow
filled my thoughts, taking my attention as my hand swung in hers and we giggled
and sang louder. The swallows scurried away, making us laugh harder as we
scared them with our singing.

I started to lose consciousness when something was
slipped into my mouth, an old rag or some sort of towel stuffed between my open
jaws. I groaned when I eventually felt something. There was a mass of wetness
between my legs that felt warm and almost obstructive. The sensation made me
shiver as revulsion coiled in my gut.

“Oh dear, and I said I wouldn’t make you bleed.” Daniel’s
voice fluttered around in my head but the haze unfocussed the meaning of his
words and I continued to stare at the small crack in one of the tiles on the
wall.

I didn’t feel him finish, or pull out. I didn’t even feel
the pull of sleep after he slid a needle into my vein. All I felt was the
overwhelming warmth of motherly comfort I had missed for over four years.

She had always been there through my childhood scrapes
and calamities, had always soothed me and mopped up my tears. She had always
shown me where to find my courage, how to dig deep inside me and pull up the nerve
to deal with life’s hell.

And even though she left me four years ago with my father
in a fatal car accident, she had remained true and returned to help me through
the most horrific hell I could face.

It would be another three years before I saw her again,
but this time she would be taking me back, as should be, mother and daughter
together.

I smirked to myself as I circled the spoon in my coffee,
the pattern it made deeply mesmerising. The couple at the opposite table had
been arguing for over twenty minutes. Apparently she wanted to buy her mother a
Kindle for Christmas; he said they were way too expensive, around thirty pounds
more than he wanted to spend on her. So then she said the photo shoot he wanted
to arrange for his mother could take a swim in the canal because that was
around forty pounds more than a Kindle.

Thank God I would be buying just one gift this year - the
semi-expensive bottle of wine I always treated myself to when watching
A Wonderful
Life
.

I turned my gaze away from them and sighed as I saw the
first snow of the year collect on the bottom edge of the windowsill. I hated
snow with a passion. I’d fallen on the damn stuff when I was around nine and
broke my arm, a week before the gymnastics tournament I’d had a good chance of
winning.

Numerous couples strolled past, each carrying a vast array
of gift bags and treats for the holiday period, their bonuses from the yearly
toil at work providing them with the luxury of what Christmas was.

High powered businessmen rushed into jewellers to buy
last minute expensive offerings for their wives that would get them laid for
the first time since their birthday in the summer. Giggling children looked to
the sky, each opening their mouths eagerly to catch as many flakes as possible
as the many festive lights in the store windows danced across their faces,
lighting them up even more than their own excitement.

I smiled and wiggled my fingers at a little girl, no more
than four, who stared at me through the window, her hand holding tightly onto
her mother’s, who was currently discussing the latest gossip with a friend she
hadn’t seen for a week.

Her lips twitched nervously before the small smile grew
into a grin and she waved back hesitantly. Her mother looked down then turned
to see what had caught her daughter’s attention. She narrowed her eyes then
pulled the little girl round to the front of her and out of view.

I sighed sadly as the window reflected to me what the
mother had seen. I quickly turned back to the interior of the café, hiding
myself from both the public and myself.

John, one of the waiters who worked in the small café I
always frequented, smiled sadly at me then winked. I hated his pity, hated the
way he would give me the biggest pastry or how he would often slide me an extra
coffee when his boss was in the back. Yet I smiled back, as always, before I
stood and pulled on my coat, slipping my scarf around my neck and tugging on my
gloves.

“See ya tomorrow, Mae,” John called to me as I headed
towards the door.

I smiled and lifted my hand to him, ignoring the way his
eyes roved over my coat and then down to my backside. I needed a new coat, one
that preferably covered my backside.

The cold bit at my face when I stepped into the street,
the ice that already covered the pavement made my feet skid in my cheap shoes
and my hand shot out to grab onto the lamppost.

“Whoa, steady.”

I turned to the voice as hands shot around my waist to
halt my fall. “Thank you.” I smiled appreciatively at the man as he held on to
me tightly.

His smile dropped and he nodded quickly before he let me
go and walked off hurriedly, his own feet skidding in his haste to get away
from the monster. I stared after him, insensitive to his reaction. I was
hardened to their responses when they saw me, detachment and disinterest being
a blessed emotion.

The walk home took longer than the usual fifteen minutes
as my attention was sucked in by all the glorious pieces in each of the huge
department store windows. Pretty cocktail dresses in pinks, blues and creams
dressed pretty mannequins in one, delicate glistening jewelled necklaces on an
assortment of shelves decorated another window but it was always the final
window that stole my breath and formed many of my dreams. The beautiful wedding
dress that hung from the model in the window was the most exquisite thing I’d ever
seen. It hugged the sculpture perfectly, the soft cream lace draping dreamily
as the tiny diamante butterflies embedded into the fine silk of the skirt twinkled
with the shop lights. The pretty sweetheart neckline was complimented with the
most beautiful blue diamond that hung from a platinum chain and rested
precisely at the base of her throat.

The male mannequin was dressed in the finest suit,
expensive and stylish, as he rested on one knee before the lady, holding her
hand as he slipped a ring onto her finger.

Rose petals and white blossom littered the floor around
their feet as various lights sparkled in the floor, giving the scene a
fairy-tale aspect.

I ran my finger over the window, the wool of my gloves
scratching at the ice that had formed as I traced around the love heart that
had been painted onto the window. I sighed as I read the passage on the prop
board behind the happy couple,
‘Love is made from dreams, and dreams are
made of love’.

That’s all mine would ever be, dreams. My hopes were just
dreams, my future just a dream made up from the nightmares of my past.

I knew this scene before me would never belong to me;
that was why it seemed to embrace me as it simultaneously taunted me. It gave
me something to dream of when I had plenty of horrors to keep me awake at
night.

No man would ever look at me the way this artificial man
looked at his love, the way his eyes idolised his bride, the way his dreams all
featured his pretty wife.

I was too ugly to be idolised, inside and out. I had made
sure of both. I had made sure that no man would ever look at me and desire me.

I had created a monster that would repel the Devil
himself.

“Going to Bert’s?” Spud asked as I punched my card out
the next afternoon. I nodded without looking at him. “I’ll walk with ya. I need
to nip in Theo’s for a gift for Theresa.”

I quirked an eyebrow and finally looked at him. “Spud,
its Christmas Eve. Are you telling me you haven’t bought your wife’s present
yet?”

He shrugged. “Haven’t had the money ‘til today. I was hoping
on a bonus but…”

“That hope shot you in the leg.” I laughed.

Spud and I had worked together in the pizza factory for
around two years. He was fun but very childlike, which left me wondering many
times how his wife ever coped with him, yet we had hit it off from the start,
both of us with the same sense of humour and anger at life. “Mmm, you’d think
just one year Tony would push the boat out. I mean it’s Christmas and all.”

I leaned into him as we pushed out of the factory doors;
the late afternoon air was heavy with the promise of more snow. “I’ll let you
into a secret about Tony’s wealth.” I told him quietly. “Tony is rich. Humungously
rich. And the reason for that is because he doesn’t give his petty workers a
Christmas bonus. Instead he spends that horde of cash on prostitutes, slaves
and golf clubs.”

Spud nodded slowly. “Ahh, and here was me thinking he
just hated us.”

I chuckled and nudged him with my elbow as we reached the
door to Bert’s café. “How can he hate us? We’re the pepperoni and cheese on his
pizza.”

He smiled at me and slid his arm around my waist to give
me a brotherly hug, his lips quickly pecking the top of my head. “And it’s
about time you were the pepperoni and cheese to someone else’s pizza, Mae.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed at him. “Uh-uh, big guy. You
know the rules. You do not discuss my love life in public, nor do you even mention
it between the two of us.”

“Oh come on, Mae. You’re perfect. What isn’t to love?”

I twisted my lips and fought a smile as I pointed a
finger at my face. “Umm, I really hope Theresa bought you some glasses this
year. Seems you’re having trouble seeing properly.”

He scowled at me which was usual for our traditional
conversation over my life. “Fuck that, Mae. Your inner beauty is what makes you
the special person you are. You are stunning. Your huge eyes, bloody hell, even
Theresa is jealous of those. The way your lips pout naturally makes you a
stunner, and those bloody sculptured cheekbones… fuck… hot, Mae.”

I stared at him then let out the laughter. “Shit, Spud,
don’t let your wife hear you say those things. Sounds like you have a bit of a
thing for me.” I knew he was just trying to be nice and his heart was all there
but to be told you’re beautiful by someone who’s practically your brother
doesn’t have the same effect.

I reached up and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. “You
have a good Christmas, Spud. I’ll see you in the new year.”

He smiled then let out a deep sigh. The sadness in his
eyes descended quickly but he shifted it when he saw my reaction. “Well, if you
change your mind about Christmas dinner you know Theresa and I would love to
have you.”

“I know.” I smiled widely, thankful for his friendship
and care. “But I’ll be fine. Me and the TV have a hot date… oh and the bottle
of Chardonnay that has my name on it.”

He nodded once then wrapped me up in his arms. The wool
from his coat itched at my nose but I held on as tight as he did, relishing in
his companionship and affection. It would be the last I saw of him until the
factory opened up again after the Christmas break. “Well, Mae Swift. Happy
Christmas, darling. I really hope this one grants you your dreams,” he
whispered before he was gone, leaving me holding the door to Bert’s open,
furious shouts of
‘its freezing, shut the damn door’
echoing around me.

I stood behind the man in the long grey coat already
ordering coffee at the counter as I pulled my purse from my bag. I flicked
through the coins and sighed.

“Usual, Mae?” John shouted over the shoulder of the man
to me.

“Just coffee today, John, thanks.”

He scowled at me as I counted the right change and placed
it on the counter then went over to my usual table by the window and settled to
people watch.

I unwrapped my scarf from around my neck and pulled off
my gloves, flicking my gaze over the outside world of shoppers, commuters, and
just Sheffield in general. The tram slid past and I smiled to myself.
Everything was as it should be. The 5:15 commute from Meadowhall to Sheffield
central was running on time. Bob, who ran the small hardware shop across the
road, lifted his hand to me before he brought in his shop sign. Mavis from the
florists smiled and waved as she slid into her beat up Punto. And John placed
my double shot, white coffee on the table in front of me – with my favourite
cherry lattice pastry. I scowled at him. He winked before he went back to see
to the other customers.

I ripped the corner of the sugar packet and poured the
brown contents into my coffee then picked up the spoon to stir. The spoon
clanged against the cup when each single hair on my body rose in awareness, ice
trickled along my spine as my muscles seized up in fear.

I spun round in my chair, my eyes furiously scanning my
surroundings to see what had set my instincts on high alert. The usual regulars
carried on with their conversations. John and Bert laughed at something playing
on the cheap TV that was housed on the precarious shelf at the back of the
workspace. The snow continued to pile up outside, but there was something off,
something that had my heart racing and my throat closing in.

“Hi, Mae,” a voice shouted from the other side of the
café. Before turning I glanced again through the window, desperately trying to
spot what had the attention of my sixth sense. A shadow moved through the tiny
alleyway beside Mavis’, a tall silhouette with a masculine frame and gait, his
long grey overcoat blew out behind him as he hurried around the corner.

“Mae?”

I jolted and whirled to see Shirley grinning at me with
her crooked yellow teeth, the many strands of hair that jutted from her chin
causing me to shudder. “Sorry, Shirley. I was miles away.”

“That you were, my dear. Anywhere nice?”

“Not really.” I grimaced and scanned the room for the guy
who had been in front of me at the counter queue. “Did you see a man in here,
Shirley?”

She lifted her eyebrows then laughed, her manic cackle
reminding me very much of the witch she also resembled in appearances. “I see
lots of men, lovey.”

I quirked a brow back at her but she winked and patted my
shoulder. She fixed her eyes then tilted her head curiously and snatched her
hand back from me as though my shoulder had shocked her. She gasped and held a
hand to her chest. “Oh my.”

“Okay, Shirley.” I peered at her hesitantly. “Way to go
on the freaky shit.”

She blinked but shook her head as she continued to
scrutinise me. “I…” She shook her head again then turned and walked off, sitting
herself back in her seat at her regular table in the other corner of the room.
Her eyes fixed on me, her odd stare penetrating me for the whole duration of my
time spent there.

I purposely ignored Shirley as I hurried through my
cherry Danish and coffee, my eyes roaming the street outside the entire time.
Nothing seemed unusual, yet I couldn’t help but wind myself up. The anguish and
fear raged through my veins, building the pressure in my head until I felt like
I would explode.

 The fifteen minutes journey home took a record ten
minutes as my little legs hurried along the three streets to my apartment, my
eyes glancing in every direction as my head turned left and right to check for
any company and my ears were open to the slightest noise around me.

The build-up of pressure was becoming unbearable as every
fibre in me throbbed mercilessly and my brain thumped against my temples. The
incessant bang, bang, bang made my teeth grind against each other as my stomach
coiled with fear.