Notes to Live BybyDecayed Angel©
When she finished dressing for bed Marjorie turned on the lamp on her nightstand, grabbed her small notebook and climbed into bed. Leafing though the timeworn pages, she turned to the dog-eared page, the one she read from every night. Adjusting her glasses, so she could see the words more clearly, she prepared to read.
Pausing a moment, she thought about the pages, the words she learned from her classes and study. They came from the self-defense classes she took, the books and magazine articles she read, the meetings she attended and the TV talk shows. They were important instructions, instructions every woman needed to know and follow religiously.
Looking down at the page she read over the words that had become a mantra for her, "Do not walk alone at night, do not walk with a man at night, walk with several woman, even better, do not walk at night.
"Do not dress provocatively, do not dress too frumpy, never wear too much make-up, do not go without make-up. Do not wear your hair up, don't wear it down if it is too long, cut your hair short, but don't wear your hair too short. Don't color your hair blond, don't color it red, or brown or especially black. Don't have streaks in your hair, cover up the gray, color the gray so it looks like the rest of your hair."
Marjorie heard some noise outside her door so she placed her notebook on the bed and got up. She walked through her room and to the foyer, where she looked at the door, making sure it was okay. Silently listening for several moments, she returned to her bed and skipped over a few of the paragraphs to those about doors. She would come back to the others later.
"Do not forget to close and lock your door, do not rely on a single lock – use deadbolts. Do not open the door to strangers, when with a man, do not walk him to your door – say goodbye some distance from the door. Do not open the door when you are alone, if you are with a friend do not open the door to an uninvited man and never open your door to a group of people."
Skipping down to the corollaries she read on: "Do not invite a man to your home if you are alone, invite only women. Do not tell a stranger where you live, do not tell a man where you live, tell no one where you live."
Marjorie reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her glass of water and took a quick sip. She then returned to her notebook, this time going back to the part she was about to read before she heard the noise outside: "When on a date do not show a man too much affection, do not ignore a man, but do not show too much interest. Do not laugh so voraciously at his jokes, but when he tells a joke, laugh politely. Or even better, just don't date a man.
"When you sit down, cross your legs at the knee without being seductive, or cross your legs at the ankle keeping your legs together without being enticing, don't let your skirt hike up exposing too much of your legs, don't completely hide all of your legs. When standing don't straighten your clothes in a provocative manner, but don't forget to straighten your clothes..."
Feeling a bit drowsy now, Marjorie skipped to the last few paragraphs in her notes, the notes she wrote down after all her classes, all her reading and meetings. She began to read: "And always be prepared because it will happen one day in spite of all the precautions. One day a man will grab your blouse with his filthy hands and tear it open. He will pull your bra up over your breasts and his filthy, greasy hands will grab your breasts and squeeze them. Your nipples will be painfully pinched as his hands stain your skin in the dark, greasy, filth that covers him.
"His mouth will then press against you, his teeth passing over your nipples, now hard in an involuntary response. You will feel his rough hands slide down your body and fumble with your pants or skirt. As he unfastens them you will feel his drool run down your breasts and onto your stomach.
"Once your skirt is removed he will tear your panties off and toss you to the ground, smiling as he watches you watch him pull out his monstrous organ. It will stink and as he kneels to push it inside you, you will turn your head to wretch.
"He will force your legs apart and then shove himself into you, ignoring... no, savoring your screams of pain. Grabbing your face he will look into your eyes, drawing strength and arousal from your abject fear. Each successive thrust will be fueled by your cries, your terror, your tears as he then arches his back and deposits his blood laced cum inside you... inside you.... he deposits his filth inside your body!
"Then he will leave you whimpering and bleeding in the street as he proudly put his bloody organ back into his pants. He'll wink at you and say something about his prowess and then tell you how good you were. Mercifully you'll pass out, only to awaken hours later to a complete new hell of police officers, doctors, nurses and then your family, your family... your family."
Shuddering, Marjorie closed her notebook, grabbed the small cup of pills on her nightstand, put them in her mouth and then took another sip of water. Swallowing, she returned her cup to the nightstand, turned off her light and then crossed her legs at the ankles while keeping her legs together. She then slowly drifted into a sound sleep, thankful she remained safe another day.
In about an hour there is a knock at the door and it opens. A man slips in, walks over beside her bed and looks down at her for a moment. He grabs a facial tissue and dabs a bit of excess lipstick on her chin. He then turns, grabs her glass, adds some water to it and then picks up the empty medicine cup, placing it on the cart with her dinner dishes.
Pushing the cart aside he picks up a towel from the floor and tosses it on top of the cart, the green letters saying, "Monroe Valley Nursing Home" had faded to a light green. He was about to leave the room when a nurse stepped in whispering, "How is Marjorie tonight?"
"She is asleep now. It looks like she ate well and she even had some time to read from her notebook," he replied.
"No visitors today?"
"No, no visitors for as long as I have worked here."
"Poor lady - isn't there anyone?" the nurse asked.
"No family, no friends... I checked her records, but there's nobody, not a single distant relative, a neighbor or acquaintance who would care one way or another."
"So sad, so very sad," she said, holding the door for the attendant as he pushed the dinner cart out of the room. She then closed the door, making sure it latched completely before she continued on her rounds.