Smothered by Beth Stafford (reading tree .TXT) 📖

New Orleans, Louisiana, 1953

Suffocated. That was how I felt; like the entire world had their eyes on me, breath baited with anticipation, listening with sharpened ears for my answer. I sent my Father a nervous glance, and his face creased with an encouraging smile.
"Well goodness Jean, I'm not asking you to marry me."
I forced a smile, and wriggled my hands from Howard's grasp. They were clammy, but I restrained myself from wiping the sweat off on my blouse.
"So? Will you or won't you?"
My heart was hammering out of control, and I fought off the urge to turn around and run, run as far away as I could. But, with so many people crowded around me, I knew there was only one answer I could give.
"Yes Howard. Yes I will go to the dance with you."
To you, it must seem like such a trivial matter, so non-consequential. But to me, it may as well have been a death sentence. To Howard, this could never be just

a dance, and we could never be just

dance partners. He always wanted something more. Always.
I felt a shudder ripple down my spine, but thankfully everyone was so engrossed in their jubilant conversation that they didn't notice.
Howard wound his arm around my waist and forced me to walk forward, deeper into the throng of relatives milling around the front room. This birthday had swiftly turned into a nightmare. I wished I had never let my Mother convince me to invite Howard. Was I the only one that could see it? The only one that could see beneath Howard's charming façade?
As soon as Howard was suitably distracted, I slipped free of his grasp, feigning hunger. Any moment free of Howard's constant presence was a precious one.
I escaped out onto the patio, breathing in the fragrant summer air. The drone of crickets chirping drowned out the ceaseless, anxious thoughts funnelling through my mind, blotting out the dread and the foreboding. But that comfort was shattered as soon as I heard the sliding door scream open, followed by light, tentative footsteps.
"What are you doing out here?"
It was my twin brother, Gaven. I turned, searching his face for any hint that he knew the reason, the true reason. But all I could find was confusion.
I sighed. "Just getting some fresh air. It's so crowded in there."
Gaven leaned against the railing beside me, looking almost whimsical. "You're just being modest."
"Excuse me?"
"Jean, every girl in town is wanting to be courted by Howard. I bet you were out here pinching yourself to make sure you're not dreaming."
I rolled my eyes. I desperately wanted Gaven to know the truth, but, like my Father and the rest of my family, he was oddly satisfied with mine and Howard's pairing.
I removed my lace gloves, and used them to fan myself. I'd let Gaven believe what he wanted to believe, for now at least.
"Come back inside, Ma's getting the cake ready."

§§§

The atmosphere was heavy with the lilting melodic tones of Dean Martin's You Belong to Me, and the entire movement of the dance hall slowed. Howard pulled me closer to him, so close that I could feel the humid caress of his breath on my neck. Every couple around us swayed together as though they were merely one body, but with Howard I felt disjointed, alien. I let myself get lost in the silken embrace of Martin's song, trying to forget where I was, and more importantly, who I was with. Howard's hand wandered to the small of my back and lingered there. I felt a surge of revulsion well up inside me, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
Finally the song abated, and Howard released me. The glimmer of spotlights flooded the room once more, illuminating Howard's auburn hair with a reddish tinge. He leered down at me, his eyes brimming with something foreign and disturbing. He raised my gloved hand to his lips and kissed it softly.
"Come with me, I want to show you something."
I cast a look over my shoulder, searching for Gaven and his date, but they were buried somewhere in the thronging mass of taffeta skirts and crisp suits. Before I had a chance to utter an excuse, Howard had locked his hand around my wrist and was dragging me from the ballroom.
We spilled out into the still night, the muffled sounds of merriment lost behind us. He slid his hand down to meet mine, and tugged me along an over-grown pathway leading away from the hall.
"Where are we going?" I asked, trying to embed false excitement in my words.
"Just a secret place of mine," he said, his face alight with a wide smile. "I've been dying to take you here since I first laid eyes on you."
A seed of worry lodged in my stomach, and steadily grew. The noise from the dance hall was getting fainter with every step we took.
Howard parted a curtain of willow leaves, and I bunched my skirts in my hands as I ducked beneath. We entered into a realm of darkness, intermitted only by the tendrils of moonlight that filtered down through the umbrella-like willow branches. I could see a glistening river flowing nearby, and hear the sounds of it gurgling over exposed rock.
Howard walked a few steps ahead of me, and outstretched his arms.
"Well, this is it." He said, turning back to me. "My little slice of Paradise."
We were nestled at the centre of a large, splayed-out willow tree, and stray arms of the river wandered in beneath, trickling by.
"It's a lot more impressive during the daytime, but a full moon will do just fine."
Howard took a seat on a raised tree root, and beckoned for me to join him on his perch. I obliged, hesitantly. I pulled my shrug closer around my shoulders, suddenly cold despite the summer heat.
"Take that thing off!" Howard said, smiling as though he were joking. But there was something about his tone that made me fearful.
"No, I'm fine."
Howard tutted, and pulled the shrug from my shoulders anyway, letting it fall into the dirt below.
"I think we should be heading back, now." I said, shuffling along the root away from him. "Gaven's probably wondering where I am."
"Don't be stupid, Jean. I didn't take you all the way out here for nothing."
"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to shove panicked thoughts from my mind.
"What I mean, is that it's time you showed me a bit of gratitude."
He traced his forefinger along my bare shoulder, and a trail of goose bumps sprouted in its wake.
"Howard, this isn't the time, and this certainly isn't the place."
His expression darkened. "You'll do as I say, Jean."
He clamped his hand down on my thigh, and leaned in close to my face. "Is that clear?"
I examined him with wary eyes, calculating my next move.
His spare hand tightened around my arm, and he pressed his lips to mine, hungry and urgent.
"Get off!" I cried, pushing myself away from him. I sprang to my feet, ignoring my discarded shawl as I sprinted back in the direction from whence we came.
But Howard was swift to catch up with me, and latched on to the back of my dress as I tried to flee. My dress ripped and gave way, making me stumble into the dirt. He slammed my body down into the damp leaf-litter, making my spine ache in protest.
He slammed my body down on the root, making my spine ache in protest.
"Howard, what are you doing?" My voice was shrill now, fever-pitch.
"Be quiet, would you?"
I clawed at his face with my fingernails, desperately trying to struggle out from beneath him. He grabbed my wrists and twisted them hard, making me cry out in pain. He lodged my hands under his knees, holding them in place. Tears of fear and desperation blurred my sight, but I could still see Howard looming over me, fumbling at the straps of my dress
I let out the loudest scream I could muster, before he abruptly cut it off. I made one final attempt to shimmy out from beneath him, and in response his fist fell down hard on my jaw, sending an explosion of pain outwards in all directions.
I felt my resolve start to crumble, knowing I was no match against Howard's brute strength.
Without warning, Howard was pulled off of me.
"Sir, I suggest you leave the girl alone."
The voice was unknown to me, but its resounding depth was an immeasurable comfort. I scrambled to my knees, wiping away the trails of tears staining my cheeks.
Howard was being held by the collar, facing a man that towered over him. He didn't even attempt to struggle, but merely downcast his gaze and submit.
"Now get out of here before I give you a good wallop."
He let Howard drop to the ground, and he was to his feet and away before I even had a chance to register what was happening. Silence descended upon the riverbank, and for a few moments, the figure and I just watched each-other with equal measures of curiosity and fascination.
Realising that my dress was in tatters, I made a frantic attempt to cover myself up with my hands. The man knelt down to my level and handed me my soiled shawl, which I wrapped around myself.
"Are you all right, ma'am?"
All I managed was an over-enthusiastic nod of the head, and the man helped me to my feet. I was trembling with shock, and the man removed his jacked and draped it over my shoulders.
I nodded at him again, before stumbling backwards and attempting to find my way out of the endless abyss of willow leaves.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to walk you home... If you don't mind."
It seemed all I could do was nod; I didn't feel I had any words left within me. The man placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and lead me back out to the pathway.

§§§

The rest of the night passed in a blur. I barely remembered making my way home, cleaning myself up, or getting into bed. All I remembered was waking up the next morning, my body aching all over, and my mind heavy with images of Howard's face contorted with lust.
I resolved to simply forget the events of the night before as if they had never happened. My plan didn't extend to the inevitability of seeing Howard again, but for now, I was happy living in my imagined reality.
A tentative knock at the door was the first sign that life still existed beyond my four walls. I had convinced myself it would be fine to stay inside for the rest of my life, but now that didn't seem so plausible.
I don't know how long it took me to reach the door, but by the time I got there, I was sure that whoever had knocked would be long gone. At least, that is what I had hoped.
When I opened the door, I was startled to see a man so tall that he had to stoop to see below the doorframe. He clutched a weathered hat in his hands, and he picked at it nervously with his fingernails.
"Jean?" His deep, bass