When help is needed

I stood hard against the safety fence looking down at the huge waves pounding the rocks at the base of the cliff. I had it figured, if I timed it right I would hit the rocks just before the wave rolled in and it would then suck me out to sea, that way if, in the unlikely scenario I survived the fall, I would drown quickly.

That decided all that remained was for me to actually do it. This would be hard for me because one of the many lessons on life that my father, a Christian Pastor, had instilled in me was that suicide was a sin. I had often wondered if it was one that was punishable by death.

Death was not one of my original plans for my life but it has featured prominently over the last few weeks.

Up until a few months ago I had everything to live for, a good job that paid well, a nice comfortable apartment, even a small four wheel drive that I would take out into the country on weekends and just cruise around enjoying the open air and the smell of the trees and grass.

I had a few friends that I saw on an irregular basis. We were not that close that we were together all the time, but we would go out on occasions to a movie or to a restaurant. I didn't have a boyfriend, and I have never had a boyfriend. When I was younger and living at home with my parents the only boys that I had contact with were from the church youth group and they were all too scared of my father to ask me out on a date and since then any boy that I dated dropped me after he found out that I wasn't prepared to go to bed with him on our first or subsequent date. In keeping with the teaching from my father, I was saving myself for my husband and the marriage bed.

"Hi, beautiful day isn't it."

"What?" I turned to find myself staring at a young man dressed in jeans and a jacket. He was rugged up against the wind that I was oblivious to until now.

"Don't you just love standing here on a stormy day watching the huge waves smashing against the base of the cliff and the spray flying up and being blown into your face? There is something exhilarating about it that makes it great to be alive."

"I don't know..." Reality hit me and suddenly I felt the cold, wrapping my arms about me I struggled to find warmth.

"Here." He took his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders and zipped it up at the front. "My name is Dale, Dale Roberts. I was walking down the path and noticed you looking over the edge. I was attracted by the sadness in your eyes, would you care to talk about it?"

"No. I would like to be left alone, please."

"Now I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're wearing my jacket, that's why. And anyhow I don't think that you should be alone right now. Sometimes it helps to talk about your problems to a total stranger who can offer an unbiased opinion that might just help. Why don't you come with me, we can have a cup of coffee and just talk."

"My problems are my problems and there is no-one that I wish to burden, that I can burden, with them."

"Yes there is, me. Look I can't promise you a solution, but I can promise that I will listen, sometimes that is all that is needed, just for someone to listen to you."

I looked at him for several seconds and decided that he looked genuine enough. "Alright, one cup of coffee, that's all."

We walked back along the path, he made no effort to touch me and in a way I was briefly disappointed, physical contact at that moment was something I needed. We reached my 4WD. "If you undo this jacket you can have it back. I'll get my coat."

He was gentle as he slowly pulled the zipper down and opened up his jacket. He slipped it on as I retrieved my coat and put it on. I know that these actions are simple and almost banal, but right now simple and banal is fine.

We walked across the road to a coffee shop and he held the door open for me. "What would you like?"

"A large flat white thank you." He went to the counter to place the orders, giving me the opportunity to get a closer look at him. He was about six feet tall, of medium build, he looked strong enough although he didn't look as if he was a serious gym junkie. His jeans were clean, looked well cared for and fitted him nicely. His joggers were also clean and looked new. His jacket was a blue-gray colour with the word 'Landrover' embroidered in small green letters on the left side. His hair was dark brown and surprisingly well groomed despite the pounding it had just received from the wind. I immediately thought that I must look an absolute mess.

"Why the worried look?" He asked as he sat down.

"I must look a total wreck."

"It would take more than a gale to wreck your looks, you look fine." The waitress arrived with our coffees and a plate for each of us with a slab of a delicious looking cheesecake decorated with a small mound of whipped cream and dusted with icing sugar. "I thought that you might like something to eat."

I took a sip of the coffee, it was hot without being scalding, it was strong, and it was exactly as I liked it, oh and the cheesecake was really nice as well.

"What is your name?"

"Deborah, Deb Benson."

"Well Deb Benson, you look like a nice girl, a nice girl with the cares of the world on her shoulders. Your shoulders are not strong enough to carry that weight on their own, so why don't you shove some of the weight over to me."

"I don't know, I've never felt comfortable confiding in anyone, not my family, not my friends, particularly not strangers."

"Just now strangers, at least a stranger, would seem to be your best option, I know nothing about you or the problems that you are experiencing that has brought you to this point in your life, so I have no prejudices when it comes to you."

I sat there for some time before finally deciding to trust this stranger with my innermost thoughts, fears.

"I was happy until a couple of months ago. I thought that I was normal, that I was living a normal life. I had a good job that I liked and I got on well with my work colleagues. I went out on occasions with friends, but I don't have a boyfriend. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs and I don't do sex."

My mind flashed back to that night two months ago when that all changed.

My boss' son Jason had just returned from an overseas business trip and was exerting his position with the staff. His father, if he was aware of this, was oblivious to the effect it was having on the staff, especially the girls.

"You had better watch him," Julie said to me one lunch break, shortly after he arrived back, "He thinks of us as his own private harem. His father shipped him overseas because one of the girls complained about him hitting on her. She threatened to go to the authorities so he was sent overseas and she was encouraged to leave."

Jason took to stopping by my desk every time he walked through our part of the office. He would sit on my desk. "What say you and I get together after work for a few drinks and some fun?" One of the worst pick-up lines I have heard.

"I don't drink, and I don't think it wise to get involved with the boss' son, some people would see it as me using you to further my career."

"They don't need to know."

"The answer is still no."

"If you should change your mind, let me know. I'll be waiting."

This conversation had taken place, with minor variations, several times every day for two weeks and I was quite frankly getting tired of it, almost to the point of going out with him just so that I could shut him up.

I had some last minute things to tidy up on Friday evening so I was the last to leave the office. I set the alarms and locked the doors behind me and walked down to the underground car park. Just as I was unlocking my car I heard something behind me. A hand clamped itself over my mouth while the other arm grabbed me around the waist. "You think that you are too good for me don't you, you bitch! Well we'll see about that. You sluts are all the same, you lead us on and when we ask you nicely you go all coy on us and pretend that you aren't interested in us, but I've seen the way that you watch me in the office and I know that you are just itching to have my cock in your cunt, to milk all of the cum out of me. You're just wanting it so bad aren't you?"

He shoved me against the side of my car and spun me around so that I was facing him. The look in his eyes scared me, he was out of control. Clamping his hand over my mouth again, I felt his other hand reach down and lift my skirt up. He reached up for the waistband of my pantyhose and ripped the waistband and tore them down to the crotch.

His hand was shoved roughly between my legs, he was trying to force my thighs apart but I was resisting as hard as I knew how. "So the slut is playing hard to get is she." He released my mouth and used that hand to back-hand me across the face. I cried out in pain. "That's what happens when girls don't give Jason what he wants."

With a greater effort his fingers forced their way into the mouth of my vagina. I tried to shout at him to stop but his hand was back over my mouth and stifled any coherent sound. "I'm gonna have me some of this pussy. I'm gonna shove my cock right into this pussy and I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna beg me for more, you're gonna want it all the time." His hand withdrew from my vagina and I heard the zipper of his trousers being pulled down. His trousers dropped to the ground followed by his shorts. He shoved one knee between mine and levered my legs apart far enough to get the other leg between mine. I could feel his cock between my legs.

He lifted my left leg up and held it in place with his elbow while his hand manoeuvred the head of his cock until I could feel it at the entrance to my vagina. "Here it comes you slut, this is what you have been asking for!"

"No!" I screamed in agony as his cock was violently forced into me. But no-one was anywhere near us to hear my muffled scream. His cock pummelled in and out of my vagina for what seemed like an eternity until I felt the hotness of his semen flooding into me. At last it was over.

But it wasn't over. "Wasn't that just what you've been asking for? "Wasn't that good? Don't you want more of that? Well answer me, don't you want more of this cock?"

"No. Leave me alone, just leave me alone."

"I'll leave you now," his hand was at my throat, "but remember this, when Jason wants your cunt, you had better be ready to give it to me, whenever and wherever I want it."

He left me leaning against the side of my car and sobbing uncontrollably. "Why did this have to happen to me, what had I done wrong to deserve this?" I asked myself and it was just about then that my father's words hit me; "Young women of today are inviting young men to look upon them as sex objects, by the way that they dress, by the way that they behave towards men, if they are raped it's their own fault."

How could I talk to my own father about this? He would never understand that I, in no way encouraged Jason. In my father's eyes I would be just as guilty of the rape as Jason.

This was definitely not the way that I had planned to lose my virginity.

What do you do when everything that you have held so important, everyone that you have thought so important, has deserted you in your moment of greatest need?

I somehow managed to drive home and I cleaned myself as well as I could before collapsing onto my bed, my body wracked with my tears of shame, my tears of loathing.

Sometime during the weekend I resolved to talk to my boss about what happened. I knew that Jason would be late, as always, on Monday so I seized the opportunity.

Jonathon, Jason's father, was expressionless as I related my story to him. He listened until I had finished and then my worst fears were realised. "Jason told me that you two had met after work on Friday and that he took you to a restaurant and that you had a pleasant meal together, and now here you are telling me that he raped you in the car park. I know my son and I find it impossible to believe that he would do such a thing. I hope that you're not thinking that, by making these accusations you are going to gain some sort of financial reward, blackmail for instance?"

I rushed from his office and gathered my things together and ran from the building. The other girls watched as I left but none made any attempt to follow, to find out what had happened. I was now totally on my own.

That was two months ago, today I have just heard the news that I dreaded more than anything else, I am pregnant, I am carrying the child of the man that raped me. I can't go to my parents with this news, I can't tell my friends, I just can't tell my friends. I can't tell the police because he would just claim that the sex was consensual. Who was going to believe me? I thought of God but He was no help to me. It was His rules that my father adhered rigidly to and they were no help. There was nothing and no-one that could help me.

The words had come flooding out. Dale said nothing until I had finished. His hand moved across the table, taking mine in his. "You've been through hell."

"I never thought of hell like that but I suppose you could say that."

"What are we going to do about this?"

"You mean 'what am I going to do about this'?"

"No, I mean 'we'. What are we going to do about this?"

"I don't know, I can't think any more, I'm all thought out."

"Come with me."

"Where are you taking me?" I don't know why, but even though I didn't know this man and I didn't know where he was taking me, I somehow trusted him.

Dale led me into a Catholic church and ushered me into one of the back pews. I noticed that he didn't do the sign of the cross or genuflect as he came in and that intrigued me. "Aren't you a Catholic?"

"No. I have found that sometimes it helps to just find a quiet place where you can let go of your worries and, if you can, seek solace in closeness to God in whatever form He takes for you. If you want to pray, then pray."

It took a while for me to clear my mind of the things that had happened to me, oh they were still there but I found myself looking at them from the outside, I was externalising them and looking at them from that angle helped me more than I thought possible.

Dale must have seen the change in me because he touched my arm. "I have another thing for you to do while you are here. I want you to go into the confessional and talk to the Priest, and tell him what you told me."

"But I'm not a Catholic."

"I wouldn't let that bother you, now go."

The Priest's words that followed my out-pouring probably did more for me and my relationship with God than anything that my father had said to me. "My child you are without sin in this, your behaviour is beyond reproach. You have nothing to be ashamed of, you should feel no shame. God truly understands what you have been through and, if you allow Him, He will give you the strength, and guidance necessary to help you through you time of trouble. I apply no penance on you for no penance is necessary, go in peace my child in the knowledge that the love of God is with you always."

As Dale and I walked from the church I touched his arm to get him to stop. "Let me get this straight. You are not a Catholic and yet you bring me to a Catholic church to talk to a Priest, why?"

"Because what you needed just now was someone who could restore you faith, I wasn't that person and your father wasn't that person, so I figured the Priest would give you an impersonal and hopefully unbiased view on this, plus the fact that this is a free service and where else could you get psychotherapy for free." His chuckle relaxed the tension that I was feeling about all of this and his hand around my waist felt just right as he led me across the road to a car parked at the kerb.

"Where are we going?"

"We, you and me, are going to the police station. At the station you are going to make a statement and then I am going to take you to lunch while I fill you in on what has been happening, and what is about to happen. And then it is going to happen."

I was confused. I sat on one side of the desk and Dale sat on the other. Beside him sat a woman police officer. They were both from the Sex Crimes Task Force and, in a caring but impersonal manner they asked me questions and recorded my answers. When they had finished Dale led me from the police station.

"We have been investigating your attacker, Jason, for some time now, ever since we received a complaint from a girl who worked at your office before you, and lodged a formal complaint. His Father gave him an alibi for the time that the offence took place and we were unable to obtain enough other evidence to proceed towards a conviction."

"After you stormed out of the office one of your co-workers came to us and told us about it, Julie I think it was. You see we had spoken to all of the women in the office and asked them to alert us to anything suspicious. We subsequently, and very quietly, spoke to all of them again and a picture emerged. All we needed was for you to make the complaint."

"I had been assigned to keep an eye on you. I followed you as you staggered through your life, waiting for an opportunity to present itself, and this morning it did. I suspected from your demeanor, that your visit to your doctor this morning was to confirm the fact that you are pregnant, and I knew that I had to do something. You would never have been able to jump you know, I was always close enough to grab you before you could."

"What we are going to do now is, you and I are going to spend the afternoon together, we are going to have an enjoyable lunch and then we are going to just do whatever takes your fancy, this afternoon belongs to you. I have taken the afternoon off and am at your disposal."

I don't know when I have ever enjoyed myself so much, ever. The meal was excellent, and then we just wandered around the shopping precinct looking at anything and everything. Dale bought me the silliest, stupidest looking fluffy rabbit I had ever seen. It was a useless thing, the first time that I have ever been given a useless thing, and I loved it more than anything I have ever known. Everything that he did, that we did, had the effect of taking my mind off my troubles.

Something in a store window caught my eye. "Dale, have a look at this." As we stood looking at the pair of boots I pointed out, I slipped my arm around his waist and hugged him to me, it felt right. He rested his arm over my shoulder in a way that felt as if we had known each other for ages. So this was what it was like to feel close to someone, it was a new and delightful experience for me. Then I felt his lips kissing me lightly on the top of my head. I turned my face to him and his lips caressed mine. My heart fluttered most alarmingly.

With his new boots on he was even taller than me and I fitted nicely under his arm as we walked back to his car. "Where are we going now?" I asked.

"You'll see." That was all he said until we turned into an apartment block car park. I knew that we were going to his apartment and the prospect didn't frighten me at all.

"Welcome to my world." He said as he ushered me into his apartment.

It wasn't what I had expected at all. Somehow I had envisioned a world of clothes scattered over furniture, overflowing ashtrays and empty whisky bottles and glasses everywhere. The room was clean and tidy, there was nothing out of place and when we went into the kitchen there wasn't even a dirty cup or plate on the bench-top.

"Would you like something to drink while I arrange a meal for us?"

"I'll have a fruit juice if you have it."

"Coming right up." When he opened the refrigerator I was surprised to see that there were no bottles of beer in it.

He poured us both a glass of juice and while I sat on a stool and sipped mine he set about preparing a meal. I was impressed at the quick and easy way he moved around the kitchen, seemingly just throwing things into a pot, but when it was placed before me I found it to be full of colour and flavour.