To break down rape culture, we need to stop teaching people that men canât help themselves; they absolutely can look for enthusiastic consent, and they must. This is absolute bare minimum decent human being behaviour.Â
Also, if you stop teaching people that âmen canât help themselvesâ it tends to go hand in hand with teaching the fact that no, men do not âalways want itââ which in turn is beneficial for those men who might themselves be assaulted, regardless of the rapistâs gender. Enthusiastic, mindful consent applies to everyone.
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You don't destroy. You don't make disasters. You don't cause havoc.
Your hands are clean, never touched blood. Your fingers never wrapped around a weapon.
But it's because you realized that physical pain is temporary. A broken leg would heal, and a destroyed city would be rebuilt.
So you made them relive the worst time of their lives, over, and over, and over again. Made them see it in front of their eyes, live it in flesh and bone.
Over, and over, and over again.
Until they come crawling to you, begging to put an end to it all.
"Oh you're the owner of that Jewelry place?" She asked, puffing out a cloud of smoke, adding another layer of haze in the small, dark, classic bar.
"The one and only," he answered, tipping his vintage hat. A proud, leering smile on his face.
"Didn't it get robbed a few months ago?"
His face morphed into fifty colors before he swallowed, "So word did spread, didn't it?"
She laughed, hollow and dry, "It's literally everyone's talk in the city. Where do you live? Under a rock?"
"I was hoping the police would cover it up," he retorted, before he clicked his tongue, "useless officers."
"It wasn't them."
"Hmmm?"
She rolled her eyes, "They didn't talk shit about you, the robbers themselves spread the word, but again, I think you live under a rock."
"Those goddamn men," he cursed, chugging the bourbon cup in his hand, his cheeks dusted with a drunk pink.
"The officers?"
"Nah," he flailed his hand in front of his face, "the robbers. The fucking nerves they had. Never saw anything like it before."
"They were assumed to be men?" She asked, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue.
"They can't be but men!" He answered, very obviously, before he scrutinized her by the rim of his almost-empty cup, a sly smirk on his lips, "you can't, by chance, thought the robbers were women?"
She smiled, "Of course not, how could I?"
"Ah that's what I thought. Pretty pretty creatures, they can't be this atrocious," he leaned forward, "they're too gullible to rob a high security store like mine."
She watched him, fighting the urge to lean away from his stinking breath.
"Anyway," he said, throwing himself back, "you're so pretty, but you could look prettier with emerald earrings, how does that sound?"
She raised an eyebrow, "It would look prettier if it was a gift."
"Of course! Of course, dear me, of course."
He dabbed at his pockets, looking for them, "these are the prettiest pair of earrings you'll ever see, and the green emeralds, oh lord, you need to-"
"You don't have to," she said, stretching her hand forward, stopping him,"maybe you shouldn't be carrying such an expensive item when you are so deep in debt, and I think I'm better staying ugly."
Then she stood up, fixing her purse, before she walked out the bar, her heels echoing in her trace, leaving him dumbfounded behind her.
She walked in the cold winter night, people on the streets not giving her any mind. She turned a corner, opening her purse, she produced a pair of earrings, a green emerald adorning them. They were, with no doubt, worth dozens of grands.
She put them on as she walked further down the street, and with a scoff she said, "Well maybe next time don't get stupidly drunk in front of a woman, she might, you know, rob you or something!"
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"I know, I felt the same way when my parents told meâŚ"
You look up, to the dark sky, the stars countless, shining down on you.
"You're saying..." You whispered, "we're⌠we weren't born here?" You turned your eyes, until it landed on the blue planet. You raised your finger, pointing at it, "you're saying⌠that we were born there?"
A torn, weary blindfold on his eyes. Their feet on the swinging floor of the rusty ship swayed with the waves.
He had asked her several times what echoed in her mind, but her answers were a mere whisper in his ear.
Itâs all for you
Her fingers holding his were light, guiding him through the darkness of the night. The moon shied away behind dense clouds, peaking at them with timid glances. The stars envied the moon; their sight completely obscured.Â
He blindly followed her, pouring his trust into their connected hands. He could follow her to the depths of the ocean, and he would be glad.
As long as he remained by her side.
They only halted where the wooden surface of the ship cut off, below them, the waves quiet and strangely tranquil. The breeze salty and humid on their skin, creating a glossy layer that shimmered under the dim moonlight.
She tiptoed to him, her hands on the blindfold, she took it off as she kissed his mouth, brief and soft. She didnât lean back, instead, she rested her hands on his shoulders, her lips by his ear, and she hummed.
The tune was a mere whisper in the vast, immersive black, but it intoxicated him, made his head feel light on his shoulder.
He didnât open his eyes, nor did he move a limb; he knew what was happening, he knew where it was going.
Her voice cracked, the melody out of tune, but she kept going, tears choking up her throat, but she kept going. She remained by his ear, her song spreading through his veins. She couldnât bring herself to look at his face, she couldnât bear witnessing the pain swathing his features.
The waves harmonized with her voice, dancing to the symphony they created. The wind joined, howling and raging, carrying out the waves, carrying out the melody.
And so she sang, until he went completely numb, leaning on her frame, and she held him in her arms, her sobs ricocheting through the night.
The ocean and the wind quietened down, listening to her mourning sobs, falling into a griefing silence.
Then she swayed, hugging him tight against her chest, as she dragged them to the edge of the ship. The waves beneath dangerously welcomed them.
She closed her eyes, murmured her goodbyes, and pushed him.
But then strong nails dug into her skin, she fluttered her eyes open, and she was met by his own, wide eyes.
And they fell, down down down, to the depths of the ocean, thrashing in each otherâs arms, tears indecipherable from the salty ocean water.
The pirate doomed to his own end, with his lover; the siren who charmed him with her voice.Â
The night fell into quietness again, the moon witnessed it all, but kept it confided inside itself, keeping this secret from the stars.
A secret, thatâs what it was, and what it will always be.
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The flowers' exactly what I chose, adorning the chairs, and the floral arch above the altar, where we would be bound together by silver rings, for the rest of our lives.
Everything that I wished for.
Then you walked down the aisle, hand in hand with someone who was not me.
I look down at my dress, it's black.
And I wondered if you did it on purpose or if it was a mere coincidence.
I look at your bride, smiley and happy, but your eyes weren't on her, they were on me.
I picked up my purse and walked away, reminding myself that I'm the one who started it all.
I walked faster, ignoring the glances and whispers behind me.
I sat in my car, hands on the driving wheel, as I stared at the shiny silver ring around my finger.
Even while I sit inside the coffee shop, I'm cold.
I'm not wearing my sweater, I left it by the door, I didn't think I would need it, I didnât think I would feel so cold.
A girl who sits by the table in front of me is in a strapless top, the guy next to her is in a thin shirt. The icy cold drinks zoom from the kitchen to the customers consistently.
The hot, steaming coffee on my table sits abandoned, refusing to cool down.
But I'm cold, and I hug myself, I try to tell myself that I'm not cold, that my feelings are just thoughts in my head.
But then I look at the empty seat in front of me, and I imagine you in it.
"Don't touch it!" Ellie screamed, her voice spreading throughout the school's yard.
"Why not?" Alice seethed, going through circles around Ellie, "it's just an old, shitty-"
"It's not shitty!" Ellie defended, grabbing her folded jacket closer to her chest. The commence attracted a few students' eyes, but once they saw that Ellie and Alice were behind it, they rolled their eyes, and went on.
The teachers either ignored them on purpose, or no student cared enough to inform them.
"Its color like shit!" Alice mimicked, sticking her tongue out while making dumb gestures with her hands. "Everyone here thinks it's your way of coping with loneliness."
"That's not true," Ellie retorted, hugging her folded jacket even closer to her chest. "I'm not lonely, I'm not alone."
"Oh yes you are," stepped in another boy, he looked like the male version of Alice, with a thin, fading mustache that was only noticeable because of the dark, sharpie lines boldening it. "You have the social skill of an ant."
Everyone laughed, but Ellie didn't, it wasn't funny, besides, she didn't care about what they said.
She didn't.
She used to, but she no longer did.
"Your joke of a moustache looks better on a girl anyway."
Silence.
The whole courtyard went silent, no one dared move a toe. Ellie took a step backwards, shaking her head frantically. "I didn't, I-I didn't say that-"
The boy stepped closer to her, his feet on the ground determined, and she could've sworn that she heard his teeth gritting.
"What," he seethed, breathing out every syllable, "did you fucking say?"Â
She swiveled her head left and right, certain that she didn't utter a word. She searched for anyone to look at, for someone to believe in her.
One look around the courtyard and she knew that she was in this alone.
Ellie thought of fleeting, to take off and keep running to the edge of the planet, but her short legs wouldn't allow her to get to the school's fences before being crushed under his feet.
He took a step closer to her, she hugged the folded jacket closer to her chest. He lifted his fist up, and she shrunk on herself, ready for the hit.
Instead of hitting her, he hit the jacket she held.
With a gasp, it fell out of her hands, the fabric unfolding, a heavy object rolling out of it.
A dark, leather book fell out.
The boy watched, amusement stretching his lips into a smirk as he knelt down, his fingers snatched the book.
âDonât,â was all she said.
âWhy not?â he asked, he glanced around him, noticing the crowd that accumulated around him, so, he rolled his shoulders back and started circling around her. âWhat could a sixteen years old girl have in such a fancy diary?âÂ
âItâs not a diary, donât open it,â she said, her palms getting sweaty. She watched the book in his hands, the leather cover of it slightly trembling. âPlease,â she breathed out.
âI bet you have all your unsent crushes letters in here,â he smugly threw at her, making sure to raise his voice a few notches for the students to hear, and they did, laughing out loud and pointing at her.
âOr maybe she wrote about her-â he suddenly tilted his head, as if someone blew at his neck. He turned, looking behind him, when he saw the spot behind him empty, he shrugged, and continued his own little show.
âSo over protective over a fucking diary. Could she have-â he tilted his head again, this time with a groan. âWho the fuck did that?!â he shouted, inspecting his classmates.
âJim what are you talking about- Ouch!â Alice groaned, clutching her neck.
Other students squealed, turning around themselves, alarmed.
âItâs red!â one of the students inspected Aliceâs neck, âitâs turning red!âÂ
Students gasped, taking a step away from each other. When a waft of warm wind started brushing from between them. They shrieked and jumped in their places, catching the teachersâ attention.
âWhat is that?â the boyâ Jim screamed, looking at Alice, who just shook her head, before her eyes widened, her hand shot up to point behind him.
He turned around and-
Ellie was smiling.
âWhat the hell is wrong with that bitch?â he asked, more to himself.
Her smile widened; her eyes glanced at the book in his hand.
He startled, his eyes widening, before he looked down at the book in his hand.
It quivered, vibrating in his hand.
He shrieked, throwing the book.
It landed on the floor, right beside Ellieâs feet. The pages flipped until it stopped at a certain page, with an ink illustration.
A human.
Half a human.
Legs, hands, body, head, but from behind, shadowy snake-like figures, swaying like tentacles, sprouted out from them.
âI told you to not open it,â Ellie said.
A high-pitched scream penetrated the air, everyone doubled over, covering their ears. It went on and on. The wind that slithered between the students grew bolder, and it was no longer a transparent, unharmful wind, but a smoke-like figure of long tails, slithering between them like a snake.
Alice tilted her head up, trying to look at Ellie.
She didnât move, didnât cover her ears, as if the whole thing didnât affect her.
Then from behind Ellie, a shadow of a human stood up. inhumanly large, inhumanly dark.
The snake smoke tails sprung up from behind it, flailing as they made their way between traumatized students.
The scream got louder, louder, louder.
Until they couldnât tolerate it any longer.
Student after the other, they fell to the ground, losing consciousness.
Last thing Alice saw was Ellie as she bent over, taking the book in her hand, before closing it. The figure and the screams vanishing, as if they never happened.Â
 Ellie got home, walked in from the back door, even though she was sure her parents were still at work, but better be cautious than regretful. She silently tiptoed upstairs, to her room, clutching the book in her hand.
Once she walked into her room, she threw the book on the bed which bounced a few times on the mattress before it settled down. She knelt on her knees, looking under the bed.
âWhat did I tell you about getting out of here?â she said, before she clicked her tongue.
A fit of deep gurgles emitted from under the bed.
âNo! And talk human!â
A moment of silence passed, before a deep, gurgle-like sound said: âYou opened the book.â
âI didnât! And you know I didnât! It was just a mistake!â she groaned, before she threw herself on the bed, the book bouncing beside her. She took it, opened it to the page with the shadowy man with the tails. She inspected for a moment. âThe look on Jimâs face was priceless though.â
She flipped through the book, each page with a different ink illustration of humans without heads, or with five heads. With no arms, or with fifty arms. And many creatures with scribbles around them in red ink.
Slowly, shadow tails slithered from underneath the bed, up towards her, until the shadowy human was fully on its legs. Ellie shifted to the side of the bed, as it came closer, sitting beside her.
âNext time, Alice is our target,â she said, before she curled on herself, the figure wrapping its tails around her body.
A minute later, she was fast asleep, the shadowy figure slithered silently back under the bed, leaving her alone.