Tuesday 9 July 2013

Siblings and Secrets - Wendy Sara MacMillan

Let's go back to the characters in Siblings and Secrets.

Wendy Sara MacMillan has had a hard and lonely life. She lived with her mother in a trailer park in Los Angeles. Her mother was a drunk and only ever had time for the bottle, so consequently Wendy never experienced the love and affection that other children had taken for granted. She spent most of her childhood locked in the security of her wardrobe, in fact this quickly became her only place of solace. She studied hard at school and thrived to get good grades but unfortunately due to the lack of money she had to leave her education early to get a job and pay her way.
Wendy was fortunate to land herself the role of kitchen staff in a local diner, where she washed up and cleaned the restaurant, but very soon she graduated and prepared the salads and vegetables for the head chef. But even as her adult life started to span out, she kept herself to herself and when she finished work she would rush home, past the neighbourhood gangs, who would taunt her and call her names, back to the salvation of her trailer, where she would lock herself in her wardrobe and with the help of a torch she would read through the daily newspapers that she had bought early in the morning and dream of love and happiness with her special man.

Unfortunately her dream was never going to materialize and below is an extract of the day she got attacked and the day her life was never going to be the same again.

(Please excuse the language. It's not all like that - honest!)



    'Wendy’s neighbourhood was notorious for gang related fights, stabbings and shootings. She was used to the sound of gun shots and the sight of gangs fighting with whatever weapons they could get hold of and most of the time she didn't even flinch, but somehow this evening was different. As she neared the trailer park she heard a lot of shouting and guns being fired and as she turned the corner she saw about forty youths of different gangs yielding baseball bats, knives, samurai swords and guns at each other. She lowered her head even further and sidled along the furthest wall trying not to be seen, or to see them. But suddenly she heard a voice behind her, shouting at her and calling her vile names.
“Oi, weirdo” she heard. “Your mothers’ a whore, she sucks cocks in hell” he taunted. Wendy heard him getting closer behind her so she quickened her pace. And then suddenly and without any warning he grabbed her hair and yanked her head so hard she thought he would break her neck. He held her close. One hand grasped her pony tail so tight, he was pulling clumps of hair out and the other hand was gripped around her throat and was holding her mouth firmly so she couldn't speak, scream or even breathe. Wendy could feel his body pressing hard against her back and felt his alcohol fuelled breath being exhaled over her neck. She tried desperately to punch and kick behind her but he held her in such a way she couldn't reach him.
“You’re a fucking weirdo, you’re gonna get it” he whispered sinisterly in her right ear. He started dragging her backwards and with her arms flaying widely in the air she dug her heels in to try and stop him from taking her, but she wasn't any match against his drug induced strength and soon he had dragged her into the side alley where they were completely alone. He spun her around and held her face against his enabling her to smell his breath and feel his stubble scratching her feminine skin. She looked into his bulging eyes and saw how they were vacant and void of any emotion, his black irises were as wide as saucers allowing her to almost see the total amount of crystal meth he had consumed.
“You’re gonna be my whore. Bitch” he hissed and she felt his saliva spray across her cheek. Wendy felt her pulse rate begin to quicken and she heard the throbbing of her heart as it started to beat faster and faster and then the terror that she was feeling instigated her whole body to shake involuntary. She thought she was going to vomit and then she thought she was going to faint but above all she thought she was going to die.
“Please don’t hurt me” she begged as he shoved his hand roughly up her jumper and under the wire of her bra, his probing fingers were grappling and groping across her bosom looking for her tender centre piece and once he had found what he was searching for he gripped it so hard she was sure he had punctured the silicon. Suddenly and unexpectedly he let go of her hair and with full force he punched her square on her face. Her head was flung backwards with the force and she felt herself blacking out as blood gushed from her nose. He then pushed her head down towards his groin and snarled viciously at her.
“Go on suck it. Bitch” and with one hand he released the restraint of his fly to fully expose his engorged penis and with the other he pushed her onto her knees and thrust himself towards her. Frantically she tried to resist by pushing and punching him but driven by his sexual greed he held her head firmly and drove his manhood into her mouth and down into her throat which made her gag and struggle to breathe. The grit of the pavement dug into her bare knees and the blood from her nose dripped down her neck and chest, her clean white bandage was now soaked and dirty with fresh warm blood. She couldn't let this happen – she had to stop it – after all she was saving herself for her ‘special’ man.
For one second Wendy succumbed and eagerly took his penis in her mouth and at that second she clamped down hard with her teeth until she could taste the salty blood as it soaked into her mouth making her choke and vomit. With a scream he pushed her away and kicked her in her stomach, she reeled in agony while he rummaged in his pocket and with blood dripping uncontrollably from his now flaccid penis he produced a gun and pointed it directly at her head. He kicked her again and again until she lay motionless and started slipping in and out of consciousness. “Its gotta stop”…“Its gotta stop” she heard herself say. And as his foot came up to kick her one last time she heaved herself forward and with every last ounce of strength in her body she grabbed hold of it and yanked it hard. Almost immediately he fell to the ground and dropped the gun and she launched herself upon it and without any conscious she pointed it at his head and then pulled the trigger. The single bullet pierced through his left eye and burst through his skull splattering Wendy with blood and brains and in one tiny moment it was quiet and he was dead.'

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