Forever Mortal

“And my hand will always be waiting"

Shiloh belted out the final chord to the adoring audience. The crowd absolutely adored them, some devoted fans belting out lyrics for the crowd to know. Shiloh was what she liked to call “energy drunk”: a sort of euphoric feeling after playing for an audience. And this audience was way larger than their usual, the entire beach party hooting and hollering from wherever they were.

“We have to cool down now guys,” she stated shyly into the microphone, causing the audience to groan collectively. She shrugged in reply. “I’m sorry. We’ve been playing for fifty minutes straight!”

The crowd continued to complain while the band slowly moved off the makeshift stage. Shiloh and David gently put down their guitars while Martyn wore his behind his back like a badge of honor. They were soon engulfed by the crowd, the smell of beer and bonfire mixing with the scent of the lake . Shiloh waved and said a few words to some kids from her Algebra class and made her way over to a keg close to the bonfire in the center. She didn’t exactly like drinking- beer tasted disgusting to her- but it was a great place to mingle with fans. And maybe find Mirabelle with some guy.

Shiloh pulled down her dress yet again. It clung to her hips a little too snugly and she had to pull it down every fifteen minutes or it would rise up to her underwear. It was really a burden when the band was playing because she would have to stop playing for fifteen seconds to avoid flashing the crowd.

“There you are!” a familiar voice slurred, and Shiloh knew she had found Merry. She turned around to see a pink-faced Mirabelle, shirt hanging off loosely and beer in her red cup. Mirabelle stumbled over and put her arm around Shiloh’s shoulder. “That show was your best one yet! You know, when you guys were doing that thing, with that other thing.”

“You mean playing our instruments?” Shiloh asked jokingly, and they both laughed. Shiloh pretty much carried a stumbling Mirabelle over to an area in the sand where chairs were set up and gently placed her down. “Stay here, Merry,” she ordered, “we need to find the rest of the guys and get home before they all get plastered.”

Shiloh left Mirabelle in the chair and made her way over to David, who was being mobbed by a group of girls wearing sway too revealing clothing.

“David,” she sang, pushing through the group and grabbing his arm possessively. “I need you over there so we can work on the chords of the next song.”

“He was talking to my friends, Shiloh,” a familiar voice sneered nasally. Shiloh snorted and rolled her eyes. Of course Katherine would be here, clinging to her older brother. Her long, curly brown hair was magically tamed into ringlets and her dress was amazingly short, as usual. “Go practice the stupid guitar by yourself.”

“Does your mom know you’re here, Kat? Hold on, let me call her,” Shiloh grabbed her phone out of her pocket and pretended to call Mrs. Andrews. Kat’s face turned to pure fear as she placed her hand over the phone. Shiloh smiled. “Now let me talk to David. And get you and your Little Ho Peeps somewhere else.”

Katherine and her friends grunted and whined as they walked over to the keg. “Why is she even here?” Shiloh asked, accidentally making eye contact with one of Katherine’s friends. They had a sneering contest until the girl finally turned back to the meat head she was talking to. “She’s like eight.”

“She’s in eighth grade,” David corrected, chuckling. “And because of that, she feels that she can do whatever the hell she wants.”

Shiloh grumbled and made a comment about Katherine under her breath. She knew she couldn’t say it out loud: David was very protective of his little sister. Since she arrived from California in the sixth grade, she could remember twelve instances where David got into a fight because someone called his sister some derogatory term. Shiloh tried to be friends with the little brat, but Katherine had more fun making fun of her. Katherine hung around girls that were at least two years older than her and always seemed to be scantily clad and at every party. It seemed like a real burden at times for David, who was always fighting with Katherine because he always had to pick her up from high school parties and lie to their parents.

“What did you want to say about our music?” David returned back to the subject. “I didn’t know we were working on a song.”

Shiloh stepped awkwardly from foot to foot. “Well I’m still trying to make our 'Big Hit'. But I can’t find anything to write it about. I was hoping you had an idea.”

David sighed loudly. Shiloh had been trying to tell them that they needed a “Big Hit”, something that everyone would like and could make them famous. They tried a bunch of different things to find what clicked with them- listening to different styles of music, research about serious issues- but there was nothing yet. “Calm down, Cherie,” David replied, calling her a nickname that he had taken to. Shiloh grunted in mock-anger, but in truth she really liked the nickname. “We’ll find something.” He looked over her shoulder and pointed. “Go ask Martyn. He seems to be finding some 'inspiration'".

Shiloh turned around and noticed Martyn on the outskirts of the party, his arm wrapped around some floozy as they walked near the shoreline. “Hope you get him soon,” David added, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’ve heard about that girl. He might catch something.”

Shiloh grumbled a quick goodbye to David and made her way over to Martyn. He always seemed to take this “I’m in a band” thing to pick up chicks. And whenever he found a girl, she was usually some shallow thing that thought a song should be made about her or she could join the band as a singer to replace Shiloh. One girl actually sounded like a dying hippo when tried to sing one of the songs.

By the time she reached where they were, they had sneaked away to an area near the large rocks. The party was west of a large canyon of rocks that went on for three miles, which was strange because it was a lake. Martyn and the girl were walking alongside the shallow shoreline facing the rocks. Martyn must’ve said something funny because the girl laughed. Shiloh decided to take off her shoes and socks to follow them.

Shiloh shivered as the cold wind hit her bare legs. Why did she decide to wear the dress? She could've easily worn some jeans and no one would care. She knew Mirabelle had good intentions with this dress, but neither of them checked the weather before they left. It would've been a smart idea because them they would know that there would be a dip in the temperature as it got later in the night.

She shook her head. There was no point in getting mad now. She made a bad choice and she would have to deal with it. So, yet again, she pulled her dress down as she followed Martyn.

She stayed about one hundred feet behind them, walking on her tip toes and trying not to make any noise at all. But with their drunkenness and the loud shoreline, it wasn't hard to be silent. Martyn was talking way too loud in her ear and the girl's laugh could've woken up a heavy sleeper from ten miles away.
Shiloh could've been leading a parade and they wouldn't notice.

They seemed to walk down for at least another mile. She could barely hear the party now and she had to maneuver to avoid debris and a rising tide. Her mom told her that the lake emptied out into the Missouri River, but it seemed more like an ocean shore than the shore of a long lake. Shiloh looked out onto the water, which seemed to blend into the dark sky and create and endless ocean. The moon was almost in the center of the sky and it's reflection made it seem like the stars had fallen and were trying to wash up on the beach. She sighed, giving Martyn points for taking this girl somewhere with such a beautiful view.

Martyn and the girl stopped to look at something in the rocks, but Martyn said something Shiloh couldn't hear and they continued walking. It was only when Shiloh walked past that she noticed what they were looking at. It was a small semicircle of sand hidden in the crevices, a perfect place for making out. She looked at the area fora moment, wondering why they passed up such a perfect place.

That was when she was attacked.

The assailant came from behind, slamming them both into the circular path .She tried to kick him in the face, but her bare feet did nothing as he grabbed her hair and pulled. She yelped, a great wave of pain hitting her skull. “Shut up,” he hissed, standing up. The moon continued to rise behind them and she got a clear view of his face. She easily knew who it was, taking in the wild hair and the sinister smile. Shane Michael Austin knelt beside her, his hands still in her hair and his eyes menacing and filled with lust. He was holding something in his right hand, but she couldn’t see it with the light.

“Lie down, bitch,” he hissed, slamming her into the sand. He placed what he was holding next to her, pressing something on it. The thing beeped to life, shining a light on both of them. It was a video camera, and the red light flickering meant it was recording.

“You don’t have to do this,” she pleaded, trying to push herself up. He pressed his weight onto her, making it impossible for her to get up. “What did I say?!” he shrieked, pressing something against her neck. She tried to shy away from it and felt a sharp line press her neck. Warm blood ran down her neck.

He had a knife to her neck. He was going to kill her if she moved.

She lay still while the noise of Shane undoing his pants filled the air. She felt his rough hands sharply pull up her dress, ripping her underwear. Her body froze with fear. Her mind urged her move, to do something, but all her muscles seems to be paralyzed with fear.

She knew what was going to happen, she knew she couldn’t stop it, and that scared her even more.

He pushed himself into her and she could hear herself gasp. She could feel everything at that one moment: the sweat on Shane Michael's body, the blood running down her legs, the weight of her own body, each grain of sand that stuck to her from the waist down. She attempted to force her mind elsewhere. She focused her pain unto the stars, hoping that the stars could somehow send help. She noticed some constellations in the sky, trying to remember what her mother had taught her. With each thrust she searched her mind for facts about the constellations. She could make out the outline of Orion’s belt and could see the Little Dipper. The ancient Japanese didn’t think know of Orion, the fact ran through her head. They saw it as a drum. She tried to push more facts out, but she could only remember that one fact about drums. She could only remember the rhythmic beating of drums, the steady beat an opposite of the one happening inside of her. She imagined the drum solo Dexter had in one of their songs, "The Grey Matter", and began thinking of the pulses he created on that drum. Her ears filled with the pulse on the snares, the uneven tempo he created with it that could only be complemented with the cymbals. One-two-one-two-one-two-one. One-two-one-two-one-two-one.

And just like that, it was over.

Something disgusting pressed into her, sticky and liquid-like. Shane grunted and moaned something, his whole body slightly shaking like the beginning of a seizure. He pushed himself off of her, zipping up his pants and grunting in accomplishment. The liquid was oozing out of her, but she couldn’t think straight. It was only then that she remembered the constellations. Each one of them bombarded her, all rushing back at one time. Why didn’t Ursa Major help her? Why didn’t Orion shoot down his arrow and kill them?

“You slut,” he grunted, picking up his video camera and walking off. Shiloh put her hand between her legs and gathered some of the liquid in her hand. The semen was a mix of colors, the white of his manhood mixing with the red of her former innocence. She felt disgusted, like some toy that was placed in the mud and left there. He had filled her with this, pushed this inside of her while she just lay there and did nothing. She just let it happen. She didn't scream. She didn't fight. She was just there, letting him do whatever. She was a slut, letting someone just do those sorts of things.

She picked herself up, not attempting to pull down her dress. She let the mixture run down her body, blood and semen and sand and failure and sweat and fear. She needed to get this off of her. No one at the party could know about this. She walked slowly to the water, letting it wade up to her stomach. There was no need to take off the dress; the dress was as dirty as she was and it needed to be cleaned.

She dunked her head under, the cold water enveloping her. She opened her eyes and saw nothing. There was just silence, just her and the water and the ocean-sky. She could stay like this forever, not go back to the party or see anyone ever again. She could stay in the water, become the water, and not do anything. But her lungs burned from the lack of air and he body forced itself back up.

She was back in the world now.

Back to her punishment.

She trudged back to the party.

David was the first to find her. “What the hell happened?!” He shrieked, looking at her wet body.

Shiloh shrugged it off. “I accidentally sat on some spray paint some vandals left around,” she lied, putting on a smile. “I’ll talk to you later. I need to go home.”

And with that she walked, barefoot and wet, back to her house.

Shiloh felt no need to ask others for a ride home or for her guitar; she decided to walk the two miles home in silence. She decided to stay on the main streets, letting car lights illuminate the way back home. She couldn't feel the water dripping off her body or the burning between her legs . She could only feel her bare feet against the sidewalk and grass. Left then right. Left then right. Each step felt like she was running a mile. The thirty minute walk home was the equivalent of traveling to Pluto by bike.

She quickly unlocked the door and quietlyit shut. The house was dark, her parents and brother asleep. Tiger walked over to her, sniffing her and then walking away in disgust. She wished she could walk away like that, but she couldn’t escape her skin. This body that was no longer innocent.

Tainted.

She walked up the stairs and heard a noise coming from Zachary’s room. He stomped out of his room, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He was wearing his favorite pajamas, the Power Rangers one with the Red Ranger posing triumphantly on the shirt. She was starting to hate that color, that damn color that seemed to follow her around. She wished she could just burn all things red.

“Hi poppy,” he whispered sleepily, calling her a nickname he made up for her recently. “You came home late tonight.”

“Go to sleep, wildflower,” she replied, her voice hoarse. “I’m just gonna go to sleep too.”

“You look sad,” his wide eyes stared at her, like he was looking directly into her. “if somebody hurt you, just let me know. I’ll rough him up.” He placed his hands into fists and puckered his lips.

Shiloh couldn’t help but smile. She could never tell Zachary what happened. It would break his heart. And what would he think of her? His sister not as amazing as he thought she was? His older sister some sort of floozy?

A slut?

Shiloh walked Zach back into his room and sang to him until he fell asleep, trying not to taint his sheets with her blood. The shower she took lasted an hour, and by the end her skin was red from all the washing. But she could never get rid of the grime on her. It seemed to stay, to linger.

She stared at the ceiling all night.