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The Right Advice - A Short Story

John has many years of writing experience in poetry, short fiction and text for children's books. Basically, he just loves to write.

This is really my first attempt at writing a short story...well, let me rephrase first 'successful' attempt. I have stated to write a few but they remain unfinished for some reason or another.

I have been going through my old drafts (some more than 20 years old) and have been surprised at what I've found. I think I'll rework some of the stories and actually finish them off. Maybe I'm not as fussy now, but they actually seem better than I remembered.

As this is my first story to be put on public display, please be gentle with me...haha.

Image by rsteve254 from Pixabay

Image by rsteve254 from Pixabay

The Right Advice

Lightning flashed across the city skyline, and was quickly followed by a booming clap of thunder. Gina Delrayo rose from the hot bath, numerous soap suds still clinging to her body. They say you can tell the closeness of lightning by counting the seconds between the flash and the thunder. One second representing one mile or something to that effect. Gina wondered if that were true, but wasn't taking the risk of getting fried in her own bath.

She dried off, and wrapping the towel around her, walked slowly into the bedroom. Thunder roared once more, and Gina felt strangely nervous. Storms had never worried her before so she couldn't explain the feeling.

Sitting down at her dressing table she picked up a brush and ran it through her long auburn hair. "Sam!" she called, "Sam!" but there was no response. Never mind, she thought, he's probably hiding somewhere. He was a real 'scaredy cat' when it came to storms. He'd show himself when it was over.

Someone must have walked over your grave

Gina continued brushing her hair. 'One hundred brush strokes each night before bed," her mother had always told her, and subconsciously Gina had always heeded that advice, even though the dear lady had since passed away.

A sudden shiver ran down Gina's spine, the kind you often experience when someone walks close behind you. More of her mother's wise words came to mind. "Someone must have walked over your grave," she would have said smiling. Gina failed to notice the reflection in the mirror of a dark figure slipping silently through her bedroom door.

The storm seemed to be abating now. The rain had eased, and the thunder was now just a dull grumble in the distance. Gina put down the hair brush and switched the radio on. She stood up, untucking the towel and carefully placed it over the back of the chair.

She lightly sprinkled talcum powder on her slim body, enjoying the feeling as she rubbed it in. Girlfriends had commented on her great figure, and she had to admit to attracting wolf whistles on more than one occasion. However Gina was still a virgin at 25. She always felt vulnerable in the presence of men and wasn't willing to take risks. she had to be sure of the persons sincerity first.

Sliding open the door to her closet Gina took a blue satin nightgown off the second hanger from the left. She always hung her clothes in a certain order. It was a habit she'd got herself into, and it did make life easier.

Slipping into the nightgown, Gina paused for a moment- listening. That same uneasiness had come over her again and she thought she could smell something odd. Her senses were working overtime. She turned the radio down and there was no other sound. In fact it was so unsettlingly quiet that Gina could hear her own heart pounding in her chest from the tension.

"Sam!" she called again, hoping his appearance would reassure her. But her calls were once again in vain. Where could he be? The storm was over so he should have come out of hiding by now.

Suddenly, a powerful arm closed around Gina's body pinning her arms to her sides. She tried to scream but a calloused hand clamped over her mouth and the only sound that escaped was a muffled moan. A gruff voice snapped, "Your dog's taking a nap. Shut up or you'll join him!"

Gina struggled to free herself, but her attacker was twice her weight and held her like a vice. Her feet dangled above the ground and she kicked at his legs, but this had little effect. In fact he seemed amused by her feeble efforts and said sarcastically,"I love it when you play hard to get."

He carried Gina across the room effortlessly and threw her onto the bed as though she were a small child. She tried to scramble off but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back fiercely.

"Please!" Gina pleaded, "There's money in the bedside table. Take it and anything else you want, but don't harm me."

"That's very generous of you," he replied, opening the drawer. "$200 just where you said," he sneered, "Now to collect the rest of your offer."

"What else do you want?" Gina asked in terrified innocence. The nightgown had ridden up during the struggle exposing her lower body.

"This!" he said sharply, and thrust his hand between her legs. Gina jumped back at this invasion of her womanhood, and struck out at her attacker. However he caught the punch easily before it connected and twisted her arm sharply.

"Naughty, naughty," he chided, "No more of that. Just relax and enjoy the experience."

Gina started to scream, but it was cut short as she felt something cold and sharp press against her throat.

"Don't make me use the knife," he warned calmly.

"Why are you doing this?" Gina sobbed.

"Why? Because I like you," he joked. "Now be quiet and don't move." With that he removed his belt, and using it, bound Gina's wrists.

She was overpowered by the pungent smell of his aftershave as he climbed on top of her. Controlling herself, she lay statue like as he used the knife to cut open her nightgown. She felt his rough hands on her breasts, and clenched her teeth tightly as he attempted to rape her.

A place for everything, and everything in its place

My letter opener with the Centrepoint tower handle

My letter opener with the Centrepoint tower handle

Gina was lying diagonally across the bed, and her violator failed to notice as she slowly reached her bound hands above her head and picked up something from the bedside table. "A place for everything, and everything in its place," she recalled her mother saying, as she plunged the object with all her strength.

A loud, guttural bellow burst from the man's mouth as he lurched backwards, a brass handle protruding from his left eye socket. "You've blinded me you bitch!" he screamed as he dashed from the room, blood gushing from the wound.

"Join the club!" Gina yelled angrily after him.

Surprisingly composed after her ordeal, she quickly found the telephone and dialed '000' the emergency number.

The letter opener lay on the floor where it had been thrown. Gina's mother had brought it home from Sydney after visiting a hospital there while having cancer treatment. She had given it to her daughter as a gift. Gina had always thought what a silly present to give a blind person- with it's brass miniature Centre Point Tower for a handle. She couldn't read letters, so why open them. Gina had kept it purely for sentimental reasons, but tonight it had definitely proved its worth, and from now on would rate as her most cherished possession.

Gina looked up and could see her mother's smiling face. "Thanks Mom," she said, "You probably saved my life."

Just then she felt something wet against her cheek, as a now conscious Sam, her Golden Labrador seeing-eye dog, jumped up and began to lick her face excitedly. "Hello Boy, I was worried about you," she said petting him gently as they waited for the police to arrive.


Image by Republica from Pixabay

Image by Republica from Pixabay

© 2013 John Hansen

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