Aftershock: Episode Three: Awakening.

Trigger warning: Contains scenes of rape. 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Elizabeth Yule tied her wavy red hair back in a ponytail before dipping her bag of Earl Grey tea into the steaming cup of water. She looked forward to spending a restful Saturday afternoon watching Hallmark movies and leaving any hint of her mundane new job, as a secretary, behind her. A month ago seemed like yesterday, when she’d packed her belongings and moved to a suburb of St Louis. She reached down and touched her stomach, which hid a secret she had never allowed anyone to discover—a secret which lay clouded even in her mind.

She dipped the bag a few more times before strolling out of the kitchen and into the living room. She made her way to the large window and opened the blinds, allowing the brilliance of the July Fourth afternoon sun to shine through. Once she sat on the couch, she rested her cup on the wood coffee table and lifted her TV remote. She flipped through the channels to glance at what was on before she would settle on whatever Hallmark had to offer.

She stopped on the local news and watched as the screen displayed the local fireworks displays. Her mind wandered to her former home and the festivities that surrounded the Fourth of July. With her thoughts settled on the past, her eyes became heavy, and in no time, she drifted off to slumber.

“Ms. Yule,” a soft, gentle tone whispered.

Elizabeth’s eyes sprung open, and she found herself standing in the middle of a classroom amid desks. The walls were covered with posters solving mathematical problems, and a strong, sweet smell filled the air. Her insides boiled with an uncontrollable lust, yearning for man she knew well yet had no feelings for. Her breathing became heavy in anticipation for him to ravish her and do what he pleased. She sensed him approaching from behind and waited—waited for him to give her everything she desired, even though, through her clouded mind, she knew it was wrong.

His hands slid across and under her white blouse, then wrapped around her stomach. His warm breathing whisking on her neck sent shivers down her spine. She took his hands, lifted them up to her chest, and cupped them over her breasts. Arching her head back, Elizabeth exposed her neck to his prying mouth. His soft lips explored her flesh, tasting every inch.

Breaking free from his hold, Elizabeth spun to face the man she yearned for. He stood before her, his brown hair contrasting his pale and smooth skin. His eyes, black as coal, stared back at her. For a fleeting moment, fear grasped her, causing her to freeze. The boy, for whom she’d known as a student, raised his hand and set it on her cheek. It was his touch that wiped away any fear or doubts she had.

“You have no idea how many of your students would love to be in my shoes right now,” the boy said with a grin.

“Nath—”

The boy lifted his finger to her lips. “It’ll be all right. You won’t remember any of this.” A smile spread on his face. “But I’ll never forget.”

He placed both hands on her cheeks, then the boy turned her head to the side and pressed his cold lips against hers. She gave into him though she knew she shouldn’t. She felt her red, knee-length skirt slowly being pulled downward, the cold air tickling flesh not covered by her black thong. He lifted her, set her on a desk, and tore off her blouse. She was his, and there was nothing she was willing do about it except give into the lust she craved from him.

His hands crept up her back until they reached her bra. She reached back and pushed his hands away. After uncoupling the strap, she let her bra fall before his watchful eyes. She lunged forward and planted her lips to his, forcing her tongue into his mouth. The heat from her body pressed against the cold of his as she held him as tightly as she could. Closing her eyes to savor the moment, she forced his head down and rested her head on his shoulders, allowing him to work over her neck again. Elizabeth opened her eyes and found herself looking at the blackboard behind her desk.

Ms. Yule is hot. Ms. Yule is hot. Ms. Yule is hot. Ms. Yule is hot.

The repeated sentence filled the entire blackboard. The thought of him wanting her as badly as she wanted him sent her heart racing faster. She shifted her head slightly to allow him to attack more of her neck. It was then a glimmer reflected off a mirror sitting on the edge of her desk. She leaned forward to get a better look, and Elizabeth saw her [AW1] face looking back. Her black, soulless eyes greeted her. Fear spread through her once again. She wanted to break free, yet an invisible bond kept them together. Elizabeth became resigned to the fact that she was part of him, like she wanted to be, and shut her eyes. Now, the thing she needed the most was to feel him inside her no matter the cost.

Cutting through the silence, five short musical beats erupted through the room. It broke her concentration, and Elizabeth opened her eyes to see not a blackboard, but images flashing on the television. She shot upright and looked around the living room. Her hand trembled as she rubbed it on her stomach, allowing her erratic breathing to become normal. She didn’t have time to reflect on the dream, for what she witnessed on television flushed away any thoughts on how she had become pregnant.

“A horrible incident… one that will go down as one of the deadliest gas explosions in U.S. history,” the newscaster said.

Elizabeth turned up the volume.

“I’m standing about a mile away,” the female reporter said, standing in front of a green road sign which read: Welcome to Westview, “from the epicenter where officials are stating was a gas explosion.”

From behind the reporter, thick, black smoke rose behind the tree line, darkening the afternoon sky. Emergency vehicles raced by, drowning the reporter’s voice. Elizabeth’s heart sank, knowing what today would be in her former hometown.

“What we are hearing is that an underground gas tank at a gas station located at the center of town exploded, causing the other tanks to explode along with it. We’ve heard through unconfirmed sources that the town was having its annual Fourth of July carnival in the high school field only a few hundred yards away at the time of the explosion. If the source is correct, the death toll could possibly reach hundreds.”

Without knowing, Elizabeth dropped the remote and continued to stare at the television with unfocused eyes. Tears flowed down her cheek like a stream. Her face paled, and her body shook. She thought of old friends and of former students she’d left before the end of the school year. She scrambled to find her phone. Spotting it sitting on the kitchen counter, she dashed toward it. She feverishly dialed the first number that came to mind, a social studies teacher, Mrs. Donovan.

The call failed.

Elizabeth nervously paced the living room, dialing any number she knew from Westview, only to be met with the same result. Frustrated, she tossed her phone on the couch and collapsed to the floor, burying her head in her hands. She clenched her fist as tightly as she could and let out a muffled scream. Pictures on the wall vibrated. The television flickered and then went dark. The cup shook its way across the coffee table and fell to the floor.

Elizabeth shot her head upward from her hands. Her irises shifted from gray to black. Spotting the remote, her anger grew. With a wave of her hand, the remote flew against the wall and shattered. Stunned at what she did, Elizabeth scrambled back to the couch. She inspected her hands in trepidation before sliding them under her legs.

“You son of a bitch,” she mumbled, rocking back and forth. “I hope you rot in hell, Nathan.”