Love Unspoken

Tears mingled with saliva dripped from her chin, dampening the assailant's palm. It was impossible to tell her tears from her saliva.

The thug's eyes blazed with a perverse fervor as he sneered, "You got a tongue? Why aren't you talking?"

"Why do you care if she's got a tongue? Can we just cut to the chase!" his accomplice retorted, a note of impatience tingeing his voice. "I'm losing my damn patience here." "What's the rush?" The first thug wiped his hands on Quinn's clothes with disdain, casting a fleeting glance at her tear-streaked face before snapping, "Let's find somewhere out of sight." Despite her mute state, they were in a bustling area where someone might intervene, creating an unwanted complication.

Quinn's eyes darted around, searching for any sign of assistance. But apart from a few indifferent bystanders who seemed to inhabit a different world, no one else was in sight.

Alexander had banished her for two weeks, but in just one night, he had demonstrated that without him, she was merely prey for the vultures prowling the streets.

Outmatched, Quinn stumbled and was hauled into deeper shadows by the two thugs, her strength paling in comparison to theirs.

They led her to a desolate park, where the sparsely positioned lights failed to illuminate its entirety.

She was ushered into a secluded corner of the park, shrouded by foreboding pine trees. It was an ideal setting for their nefarious intentions.

The pair grinned maliciously as they forced Quinn to the ground, pinning her arms and legs. Her head thrashed wildly. Her mouth opened in silent pleas for help, but no sound escaped her lips. Emboldened by her silence, the thugs grew bolder.

One sat on her legs, his excitement palpable as he reached to tear at her clothing.

The other, restraining her arms, watched as she writhed helplessly. Her clothes were torn, exposing her to the bone-chilling cold.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Terrifying laughter echoed from the looming figures above her. She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing the tears to flow.

But as the thug straddling her legs reached down to remove her pants, his hand met a viscous fluid.

He held his hand up to the light-fingers smeared red.

"Damn it!"

Startled, the other thug leaned in, both of them scrutinizing the white pants-her birthday gift from Alexander-now soaked in crimson.

"Is it her... period?"

"Can it be this heavy?"

They exchanged a glance, a wave of disgust and fear washing over them as reality snapped back into focus.

One of them swallowed hard, murmuring reluctantly, "Maybe we should just forget this, yeah?"

"That chick must've been knocked up by some other dude. Disgusting. Let's get out of here!"

"You're right, man. Wouldn't want to catch anything from her. That'd be a real loss!"

Given the disturbing nature of their actions, it was an easy assumption to make that the mute girl had been victimized by many others before them. Who knew what kind of diseases she could be carrying?

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Feeling an ominous sense of misfortune, the two stood up and, in a final act of contempt, spat on Quinn. They hastily draped her clothes over her exposed body and hurried away from the park.

Quinn's face was ashen, and beads of cold sweat dotted her forehead. She tried to get up, but the pain was too intense, causing her to collapse back to the ground each time.

She reached out, desperately trying to grasp her assailants, but they were too fast.

Her fingers slowly clenched, nails digging into the earth as moist soil squeezed through her grip.

Help had not come. No one had come to the rescue of her child.

Her consciousness waned. Distant streetlights doubled in her dimming vision.

She thought she might be dying.

Maybe it was for the best...

Her existence seemed meaningless, anyway.