Untitled short story.

Jane tried to go over the events of last night. It was hard, very hard. How had it started? With him claiming to be magnetically drawn to her. To her looks. She knew it could be true. With her long, blonde hair, baby blue eyes and classic hourglass figure, men had told her that if they could not have her they would die. Hell, she had even been offered the chance to become a page 3 model.

Jane remembered him walking her home. He was worried about her being attacked. Looking back, Jane allowed herself an ironic smile. When they got back to her flat she invited him in for a coffee. Well, it was only polite. Not that she even had time to put the kettle on. They started snogging as soon as they got in. It was just a small step to the bedroom. And then…

Nothing. She could not remember anything after that. It would come. If she really wanted to remember it. Instead, Jane concentrated on remembering him. Alex, about the same age as her. Dark hair, short, a style that some would call a crew cut. Eyes the colour of milk chocolate. And a devastating smile. A sort of come-to-bed smile.

Broad shoulders atop a well-defined, muscular torso. Looked good with his shirt on. Even better with it off. She remembered buttons flying. Either from his shirt or her blouse. Or possibly both. It all happened so fast. Some of her stocking were used in lieu of ropes. Well, the tieing up was necessary, Jane supposed.

She put down her drink, stubbed out her cigarette, and went to the toilet. To gather her composure. To splash some cold water on her face. Jane marvelled at how her memory worked. She had a shower after. So did he. Something was said about them showering together to save water. A sick joke.

She looked at the visage which stared back at her from the mirror. Cool and composed. As usual. No matter how much turmoil she was in inside, she could always look as if she was in control.

Which is why she went to see her best friend that afternoon. Jane could instantly see that her friend was in a state of shag – happiness. Which meant that her girlfriend had stayed the night. While they were talking, Janes friend put on a Belle & Sebastian CD. One of the songs caught her attention. ‘The Chalet Lines’. That was the song. But why?

As she checked her hair she ran through the song in her head. It didn’t take long. The first line; “He raped me in the chalet lines”. Rape. That was it. That’s what happened last night.

The police would probably never find out. He would never say anything. Even if he did, they would never believe she had to force him to shag her. But that’s what happened.

She went back out to the nightclub and looked towards the hunk at the bar. She knew that with her long, blonde hair, baby blue eyes and page 3 figure, he would not be able to resist her. And that’s how she liked it.

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Any suggestions for titles, please let me know.

I’m also thinking of starting up a creative writing public diary similar to All Of Us. Would anyone else be interested? Let me know.

Will