I stood hard against the safety fence looking down at the huge waves pounding the rocks at the base of the cliff. I had it figured, if I timed it right I would hit the rocks just before the wave rolled in and it would then suck me out to sea, that way if, in the unlikely scenario I survived the fall, I would drown quickly.
That decided all that remained was for me to actually do it. This would be hard for me because one of the many lessons on life that my father, a Christian Pastor, had instilled in me was that suicide was a sin. I had often wondered if it was one that was punishable by death.
Death was not one of my original plans for my life but it has featured prominently over the last few weeks.
Up until a few months ago I had everything to live for, a good job that paid well, a nice comfortable apartment, even a small four wheel drive that I would take out into the country on weekends and just cruise around enjoying the open air and the smell of the trees and grass.
I had a few friends that I saw on an irregular basis. We were not that close that we were together all the time, but we would go out on occasions to a movie or to a restaurant. I didn't have a boyfriend, and I have never had a boyfriend. When I was younger and living at home with my parents the only boys that I had contact with were from the church youth group and they were all too scared of my father to ask me out on a date and since then any boy that I dated dropped me after he found out that I wasn't prepared to go to bed with him on our first or subsequent date. In keeping with the teaching from my father, I was saving myself for my husband and the marriage bed.
"Hi, beautiful day isn't it."
"What?" I turned to find myself staring at a young man dressed in jeans and a jacket. He was rugged up against the wind that I was oblivious to until now.
"Don't you just love standing here on a stormy day watching the huge waves smashing against the base of the cliff and the spray flying up and being blown into your face? There is something exhilarating about it that makes it great to be alive."
"I don't know..." Reality hit me and suddenly I felt the cold, wrapping my arms about me I struggled to find warmth.
"Here." He took his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders and zipped it up at the front. "My name is Dale, Dale Roberts. I was walking down the path and noticed you looking over the edge. I was attracted by the sadness in your eyes, would you care to talk about it?"
"No. I would like to be left alone, please."
"Now I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because you're wearing my jacket, that's why. And anyhow I don't think that you should be alone right now. Sometimes it helps to talk about your problems to a total stranger who can offer an unbiased opinion that might just help. Why don't you come with me, we can have a cup of coffee and just talk."
"My problems are my problems and there is no-one that I wish to burden, that I can burden, with them."
"Yes there is, me. Look I can't promise you a solution, but I can promise that I will listen, sometimes that is all that is needed, just for someone to listen to you."
I looked at him for several seconds and decided that he looked genuine enough. "Alright, one cup of coffee, that's all."
We walked back along the path, he made no effort to touch me and in a way I was briefly disappointed, physical contact at that moment was something I needed. We reached my 4WD. "If you undo this jacket you can have it back. I'll get my coat."
He was gentle as he slowly pulled the zipper down and opened up his jacket. He slipped it on as I retrieved my coat and put it on. I know that these actions are simple and almost banal, but right now simple and banal is fine.
We walked across the road to a coffee shop and he held the door open for me. "What would you like?"
"A large flat white thank you." He went to the counter to place the orders, giving me the opportunity to get a closer look at him. He was about six feet tall, of medium build, he looked strong enough although he didn't look as if he was a serious gym junkie. His jeans were clean, looked well cared for and fitted him nicely. His joggers were also clean and looked new. His jacket was a blue-gray colour with the word 'Landrover' embroidered in small green letters on the left side. His hair was dark brown and surprisingly well groomed despite the pounding it had just received from the wind. I immediately thought that I must look an absolute mess.
"Why the worried look?" He asked as he sat down.
"I must look a total wreck."
"It would take more than a gale to wreck your looks, you look fine." The waitress arrived with our coffees and a plate for each of us with a slab of a delicious looking cheesecake decorated with a small mound of whipped cream and dusted with icing sugar. "I thought that you might like something to eat."
I took a sip of the coffee, it was hot without being scalding, it was strong, and it was exactly as I liked it, oh and the cheesecake was really nice as well.
"What is your name?"
"Deborah, Deb Benson."
"Well Deb Benson, you look like a nice girl, a nice girl with the cares of the world on her shoulders. Your shoulders are not strong enough to carry that weight on their own, so why don't you shove some of the weight over to me."
"I don't know, I've never felt comfortable confiding in anyone, not my family, not my friends, particularly not strangers."
"Just now strangers, at least a stranger, would seem to be your best option, I know nothing about you or the problems that you are experiencing that has brought you to this point in your life, so I have no prejudices when it comes to you."
I sat there for some time before finally deciding to trust this stranger with my innermost thoughts, fears.
"I was happy until a couple of months ago. I thought that I was normal, that I was living a normal life. I had a good job that I liked and I got on well with my work colleagues. I went out on occasions with friends, but I don't have a boyfriend. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs and I don't do sex."
My mind flashed back to that night two months ago when that all changed.
My boss' son Jason had just returned from an overseas business trip and was exerting his position with the staff. His father, if he was aware of this, was oblivious to the effect it was having on the staff, especially the girls.
"You had better watch him," Julie said to me one lunch break, shortly after he arrived back, "He thinks of us as his own private harem. His father shipped him overseas because one of the girls complained about him hitting on her. She threatened to go to the authorities so he was sent overseas and she was encouraged to leave."
Jason took to stopping by my desk every time he walked through our part of the office. He would sit on my desk. "What say you and I get together after work for a few drinks and some fun?" One of the worst pick-up lines I have heard.
"I don't drink, and I don't think it wise to get involved with the boss' son, some people would see it as me using you to further my career."
"They don't need to know."
"The answer is still no."
"If you should change your mind, let me know. I'll be waiting."
This conversation had taken place, with minor variations, several times every day for two weeks and I was quite frankly getting tired of it, almost to the point of going out with him just so that I could shut him up.
I had some last minute things to tidy up on Friday evening so I was the last to leave the office. I set the alarms and locked the doors behind me and walked down to the underground car park. Just as I was unlocking my car I heard something behind me. A hand clamped itself over my mouth while the other arm grabbed me around the waist. "You think that you are too good for me don't you, you bitch! Well we'll see about that. You sluts are all the same, you lead us on and when we ask you nicely you go all coy on us and pretend that you aren't interested in us, but I've seen the way that you watch me in the office and I know that you are just itching to have my cock in your cunt, to milk all of the cum out of me. You're just wanting it so bad aren't you?"
He shoved me against the side of my car and spun me around so that I was facing him. The look in his eyes scared me, he was out of control. Clamping his hand over my mouth again, I felt his other hand reach down and lift my skirt up. He reached up for the waistband of my pantyhose and ripped the waistband and tore them down to the crotch.
His hand was shoved roughly between my legs, he was trying to force my thighs apart but I was resisting as hard as I knew how. "So the slut is playing hard to get is she." He released my mouth and used that hand to back-hand me across the face. I cried out in pain. "That's what happens when girls don't give Jason what he wants."
With a greater effort his fingers forced their way into the mouth of my vagina. I tried to shout at him to stop but his hand was back over my mouth and stifled any coherent sound. "I'm gonna have me some of this pussy. I'm gonna shove my cock right into this pussy and I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna beg me for more, you're gonna want it all the time." His hand withdrew from my vagina and I heard the zipper of his trousers being pulled down. His trousers dropped to the ground followed by his shorts. He shoved one knee between mine and levered my legs apart far enough to get the other leg between mine. I could feel his cock between my legs.
He lifted my left leg up and held it in place with his elbow while his hand manoeuvred the head of his cock until I could feel it at the entrance to my vagina. "Here it comes you slut, this is what you have been asking for!"
