1993
Dorothea sat in the rocking chair that Philip had bought her from Spain. Engraved on the beautiful woodwork were tiny elephants, dogs, clowns, and dancers. Sitting there with her hands on her lap she slowly rocked back and forth staring out the window as rain slowly began coming down. It was a dull overcast day and thunder was beginning to sound in the distance.
The nursery was dark and cool. Dorothea sat there, watching as raindrops hit the bay windows with the floating white curtains with blue fringe. Sitting there, she stared at the empty crib…the empty crib that was supposed to hold their baby.
Dorothea lowered her head and silent began to cry.
It was the holidays but it sure didn't feel like it.
Ever since the miscarriage Philip went off for a string of shows. Valentine thought it wasn't a good idea. One night while Dorothea laid in bed, stoned out of her mind on the sleeping pills she had been taking since it happened…she overheard them in Philip's study.
They were arguing. Valentine said it wasn't smart to leave and start working so soon. He needed time to let the shock set in. He needed time alone with Dorothea to grieve together and get over the loss of their son. He said burying himself in work and trying to make as much distance between where it happened and himself wasn't going to help. Dorothea needed him.
Philip screamed that Valentine didn't know what he was talking about, and less than two weeks after their baby died…Philip was gone.
That night, she remembered slipping in and out of conscience. The pills were helping and they had made her feel numb to everything that was going on. She remembered him walking into their bedroom, brushing her bangs back and kissing her forehead.
The next day he was gone, off to perform twenty shows. Two of them which were overseas. He left a message with Valentine to tell her that he would call and that he was expected to be back before the holidays. Dorothea took this news like she took everything else when she was strung up on the pills. She just nodded and sat down staring off into space.
Clemenzia was there for her, helping her around, giving her any pills she needed, and of course comforted her whenever she needed it. Night after night Dorothea would wake up from horrible nightmares of the desert…of herself just twelve years old huddled to the ground crying as dark and nightmarish monsters tried to grab her.
She would cream loudly for Philip, begging him to save her but he would never come.
She would wake up, wide eyed and gasping for breath. Her hands would go to her flat stomach and that's when reality would hit her.
Her baby was dead and her husband, her best friend…her everything wasn't here.
She wanted Philip so badly.
Crying, she wished things had been different.
Now here she was, alone and sitting in her dead son's nursery. His tiny lifeless corpse, which she had never gotten to see nor hold was buried in a beautiful cemetery in Los Angeles. She had all ready gone several times whenever it got really bad. Whenever she didn't think she could take it, or broke down crying Valentine would take her.
A tiny marble headstone with angels were on it.
Novak Swann 1993 Beloved son. Flesh is a trap and magic sets us free.
Dorothea would kneel down at the grave, pressing her fingertips against the stone and lower her head and cry.
She had gone earlier today and now she had come home and taken another few pills. She sat in the rocking chair looking out into space and feeling horrible.
Just then a cool feeling hand touched her shoulder. Dorothea looked up and saw her husband. Her husband who had been gone for the last couple of months.
He looked so different.
He had lost so much weight, and his hair. It was so much thinner, it stuck up and his hairline was much bigger than before. There were new wrinkles on his forehead, and he looked deathly pale. His once beautiful blue eyes now looked faded and dull.
He stood looking at her and Dorothea suddenly needed comfort. She needed to hold him, to kiss him, and explain how horrible she felt and how badly she needed him.
But before she could say any of those things he spoke, his voice low and slightly cracked.
"Let's go for a ride."
Puzzled, Dorothea stared up at him before slowly nodding. Even though it was raining very badly out she wanted time alone with him, even if it was just the two of them driving around the city. Maybe then they could grieve together. Pull over at the cemetery where the baby was buried and just hold each other and cry. It seemed so hopeless, here were two people…two people who had looked straight in the eyes of the devil yet, felt as though they were falling apart due to the loss of their unplanned and unborn baby.
Dorothea nodded before Philip softly told her to dress, he would be waiting outside.
Dorothea went to the bedroom and wore her long flowing netted white dress that Philip had bought for her in Paris. Not even bothering with her hair, she slipped on flats and hurried downstairs. By then the rain was pouring.
She saw the limo with the tinted windows and frowned. That meant Valentine would be driving them.
She wanted time alone with him. Sighing, she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before the sound of thunder came rumbling off in the distance. Running for the limo, she opened the door and rushed inside. Shutting the door, the thick scent of cigars filled the air.
Inside the windows were a vague tinted blue. On the outside you couldn't see a thing in. The same was with the divider up front where Valentine sat behind. The engine was running and the plush feel of the inside carpet felt nice against her bare ankles.
Philip sat in the back leather seat, looking ahead with those blue faded haunting eyes. Staring at him, Dorothea suddenly got the most overwhelming feeling of love for him. She understood if they stuck together they could get through this, much like how they were able to get through what happened back in the desert so long ago…
Making sure her door was shut she sat there beside him waiting for him to speak. Instead he pressed a small button on his side which silently slid down the divider. Valentine sat ahead not bothering to even look in the rearview mirror.
"Go."
Philip said in a dry voice which sounded odd. Puzzled, Dorothea sat beside him before watching the tinted divider silently begin to go back up. Right before it went up all the way she caught a very worried expression in Valentine's eyes.
Once it was up, the limo slowly started moving. First down the driveway, then down the street. The sound of rain hitting the windows seemed to echo.
Dorothea nervously twisted her hands, she had so much to say. Looking at him, her heart broke. He seemed so lost. Sighing, she sat closer and gently touched his hand.
He looked over as though he was dreaming, slowly he leaned over and softly kissed her lips. Closing her eyes Dorothea tried to enjoy this moment. Even though it had just been a couple of month it seemed like a lifetime. His soft lips went against hers and slowly his mouth opened against hers.
She felt herself getting lost.
That's when the kiss grew slightly rougher. At first Dorothea didn't seem to notice. She knew he was hurting just as badly as she was and maybe being away from her for so long now brought the need and urge for comfort. Kissing him back, she withdrew slightly and felt her heart pound in her chest.
They hadn't kissed like this since…
Before the baby.
Their mouths opened and closed, Dorothea felt herself getting dizzy. His hands held her shoulders as their lips smacked back and forth. That's when he began turning her towards the seat. He broke the kiss away for a second holding her and locking eyes against hers.
His tongue plunged down her throat causing her to gag for a second. Gently pushing him away, she wanted to tell him slow…to just take it slow, she wanted to enjoy this. Instead, he gripped her sides and turned her against the leather seat, crawling on top of her. His mouth roughly smashed up against her lips while his hands went down to her dress.
Dorothea's eyes widened.
No, not like this.
He then sat straight up and began trying to yank up the four or so different layers of her dress, the netting, the silk, and the cloth. He seemed to be in a frenzy, trying to hike it up all at the same time. Panic leaped into Dorothea's heart. This wasn't like him at all.
"No…"
She said, but he wouldn't stop. His hands were hurting as they tried to find the end of the layers on her dress. Dorothea suddenly became very scared, trying her hardest she began slapping his hands away.
No, she didn't want this here.
He kept going as cried and shook her head.
"No! I…"
She struggled to sit up, but he kept pushing her back on the seat. She struggled, trying her hardest to just sit up straight so he would stop but he wasn't letting her. Pushing her back, he took her by the hips and made her lay against the leather seat as he began getting annoyed with her skirt.
"NO!"
She cried even harder before throwing her head back. This wasn't Philip, he seemed to have gone mad. Pushing her down further, her bottom half began to slide off the seat and onto the floor. He then lifted her legs by the ankles, spreading her legs as high as they could go.
"Please no!"
She screamed, hoping Valentine would stop and help. Instead the divider stayed up and they continued to move. Struggling she screamed as Philip reached up and tore her panties away, causing the oddest sound of snapping fabric filling the air.
Setting her down, Dorothea saw Philip quickly yanked down his slacks and worked his throbbing erection out of his slacks. She screamed at the sight of it and kept struggling and he made her spread her legs. She begged for him to stop before he lifted the last piece of her dress that was hanging in front of her crotch.
'He's raping me…"
She dully thought before she felt himself slide himself inside of her with full force. Screaming, she stiffened, fighting to wiggle away. Her hands limply tried to go down and pull himself out of her, instead he held her by the wrists and laid on top of her.
He began to dully thrust inside of her, her legs hanging limply between him in the air. She cried, staring up at the ceiling of the limo and faintly watching down town Los Angeles pass by them. Thinking, people were just outside, unaware that inside this horrible thing was happening.
His ass pumped up and down inside of her, causing her to move with him. She struggled, nearly getting him to pull out once when she tried to squeeze her legs shut. She felt him nearly stop, the sound of himself slapping against her. She understood suddenly what he was doing…
He was trying in his own sick way for another baby.
He had completely lost his mind.
Feeling like she was going to throw up, she gave up on crying or screaming for Valentine. She was here on purpose. He held onto her, thrusting away before he stiffed.
Was it over?
She didn't feel him come.
He lifted himself up and looked down at her as she cried.
How could he have done this?
He lifted her legs up further.
That's when he tore the front of her dress away, revealing her breasts. Dorothea cried out as he leaned down squeezing them, his legs causing hers to spread more as he went back to driving himself into her without any sign of stopping.
She weakly tried to push him off but it was no use, she laid there letting him have his way with her while feeling that horrible pulsing part of him whack against her every time he drove himself in. A silent tear rolled down her face as she became lost…remembering that handsome nineteen year old boy she had fallen in love with in the desert.
They drove around for a whole hour before Philip's thrusts became more of just a horrible pumping that shook the two of their bodies together. Dorothea thought she was bleeding and felt sick. He eyes began to roll back in her head.
His thrusts became more drawn out. She felt himself slap against her, harder, and harder…before the force became too ware off. Her insides ached and she felt himself stiffen inside of her.
"No, damnit. Not yet…"
She heard him mumble. He held onto her and began thrusting away causing her legs to shake. His chest squished her breasts as she cried weakly out. That's when he knew. Her legs tightened and she felt him. She held this until he stiffened and began to grunt.
He buried his face into her neck and gasped for air.
Dorothea thought of what their son who died would be like. She wondered if this was really just a curse because of what had happened. She laid there, letting the love of her life violently rape her while her mind began to float away.
She didn't just think of her son, she thought of what he would have been like. What he would have looked like when he was sixteen or seventeen. She thought of a beautiful handsome young man. He was tall like them, fair creamy flawless skin. His short thick jet black hair and his blue eyes.
She thought of him, and how wonderful he would be.
His name was going to be Novak, and he was going to be his.
She hated herself for falling down the stairs. She hated causing their baby to die. She hated herself for everything that had happened. Her fairy tale life with Swann was crashing down around her as she laid on the floor of the limo.
She wanted her son, she wanted him alive and in her arms. She wanted to hold him, to protect him like Philip had done with her. She wanted Novak…
But instead he died before he was even more. Drowned in blood inside her and gone. His little remains buried in a small coffin fit for a doll. Now here she was, alone and watching the man she thought she would never stop loving shatter everything.
Philip raised his head, his hair was hanging down in his face. He looked so much older. Dorothea laid there, no longer struggling or fighting. She began to think maybe she could just run away, just go someplace and never be found.
But she knew he would find her.
She eyed the rolled up tinted windows, watching the buildings rush by. It appeared that Valentine was taking them on the freeway. The backseat creaked with Swann's thrusts, Dorothea laid there surrounded by the tattered remains of her gown and began to softly cry.
Philip's thrusts became more drawn out and hurt. Dorothea shut her eyes before feeling him stop. Grunting, he held onto her so strongly bruises appeared on her skin.
He then climaxed strongly inside of her. Dorothea cried from the horrible warmth of it. Knowing if he had indeed gotten her pregnant that this child was conceived out of hate. He kept himself inside of her until every single drop of himself was gone. He rocked them back and forth before roughing pulling out of her. Taking a second and panting, he lifted himself up and rolled off. She saw his penis flop around in the air and she wanted to die.
Dorothea gathered her tattered remains of her dress and curled up into a ball crying.
Philip laid beside her, gasping for breath. His hand went to his chest for a second and then eyed her. He tried reaching over to touch her but she cried and slapped him away.
"Get away!"
Philip lowered his head and began to cry. Dorothea glanced over and saw him bring his hands up to his face as he sobbed. His entire body shook. Dorothea slowly forced herself to sit up, her insides aching. Grabbing her remains of her dress, she struggled to pull them up enough to over herself. There were bruises all over her arms and legs.
Sitting on the back seat, she stared at Philip on the floor and felt for the first time disgusted. This was the man who had saved her life, who had risked everything for her. The man just a few months ago had put a baby inside of her to grow. The man who amazed her night after night while she stood in the wings watching him perform.
But he was no longer the nineteen year old boy from the desert…he was different.
Lowering her head she began to cry as well.
They stayed that way until Dorothea raised her head and saw they were heading in the opposite direction. They were going home. Rubbing her face with her hands, Dorothea glanced over at Philip and felt nothing but pity.
Philip looked up, as if he was reading her thoughts.
"I'll never touch you again…I'll die before I ever do that again. I'm so sorry Dorothea…"
The last of his words were barely above a whisper. Dorothea shut her eyes, her insides still aching from where he had been. He had been the only man she had ever been with. He had taken her innocence as a teenager and somehow he had done it again.
She thought back at how he kept thrusting away, his hot breath against her neck, feeling him shake. Dorothea rubbed her eyes and looked at him.
Sliding down on the seat she wanted to talk to him. To explain that she understood it was a mistake. That it was just a slip. That's what she truly wanted to believe. She wanted to forgive him, have him hold her in his arms and cry.
She sat down, her dress ruined around her as she tilted her head to the side and gently touched his face. Philip looked to be in pain. Glancing over, tears were still running from his face.
Dorothea leaned over and gently kissed him on the lips, but the kiss was not returned. Looking down, she saw his penis was limp and hanging out of his slacks. For some odd reason she never thought she would see it erect again. Philip's eyes followed hers and looked down at him embarrassed. Putting himself back into his slacks, he zipped them up and then ran his hands though his now thin hair.
Dorothea leaned over, his face looked to be in pain.
"Philip…"
He looked at her.
"Philip…it was just a mistake, I know that…"
He shook his head.
"I'll never touch you again…I'm supposed to take care of you and…and I…"
His words broke off again before he started crying. Dorothea reached over trying to hold him but he tugged away.
"I'll get you that pill…the one you take so you don't…"
His words broke up as he started to cry again. Dorothea tried to comfort him, to tell him no but he pushed her away.
Sitting up, he pressed the call button.
"Valentine, take us home…now."
He released the button and sat up straight trying to push back his hair and get his breathing under control. Dorothea sat on the floor with her torn dress on before Philip offered his hand. Taking it, she sat beside him and wanted to hold his hand but he wouldn't let her.
They drove back in silence. Finally, Dorothea cleared her throat and said…
"Tell Valentine I want to go to the cemetery, he'll know which one."
Philip looked at her puzzled.
"What?"
"The cemetery, if you ever want me to forgive you for what happened tell him now."
Her voice was stern, for once sounding and looking like the beautiful woman she was. Philip stared at her before pressing down on the call button and telling Valentine in a slow mumbled voice he wanted to go to the cemetery.
"Yes sir."
Valentine said and Philip sat in silence.
"Give me your jacket…my dress is ruined."
Dorothea softly said.
Philip looked over before tugging it off. Handing it to her, Dorothea slipped it on covering her torn remains of her dress. Buttoning it up, she sat there, never wanting to hold her husband so badly before in her entire life. Instead she sat there, knowing if she even attempted to touch him he might no insane.
Later…
The rain was slowing, now it was nothing more than a mist. The sky continued to be gray and overcast as Valentine parked up on one of the hills and waited inside the limo. Dorothea walked beside Philip as they crossed over the wet grass and towards the grave Dorothea needed him to see.
Finally she stopped, taking a deep breath before looking down.
It was their son's headstone.
Philip stared at it, with little to no emotion in his eyes. Dorothea turned and looked at him.
"That's our son Philip…that's our baby."
Philip took a step closer, staring down at it before his face crumpled. Bowing his head, he dropped to his knees on the rain covered grass and lowered his head before crying. Dorothea watched him as he slowly crawled over, pressing his face against the smooth marble.
"I…want him back…oh God!"
He cried helplessly. Dorothea stood there, not comforting him nor trying to do anything else but stare down.
Finally Valentine came, clearing his throat an hour or so later asking if they were ready. By then Philip had gotten himself under control and wiped his eyes before nodding. Getting up, he followed Dorothea to the limo and sat in complete silence on the way home.
"Novak…"
He barley whispered.
Dorothea looked at her and said nothing. She couldn't find it inside herself to. Finally Valentine reached the house and helped them out. Dorothea hurried inside, barley feeling the drizzling mist from the now darkening sky. She hurried upstairs, and threw the remains of her dress away before stepping into the shower.
She needed to wash the filth off her, she needed to be clean. Turning the water on steaming hot, she stood underneath the shower head and began to feel herself shake before crying. Her inside aching still, she leaned against the glass shower-stall and cried.
Usually Philip and her would shower together, usually whenever Dorothea even seemed the slightest bit upset he would comfort her.
Instead, she stood in the shower, letting the water roll off her shaking body as she cried.
When she finally found enough strength to finish, she dried off and changed into sweats. Returning to their big empty bedroom, she crawled into the bed somehow knowing Philip wouldn't be coming in…or any other night now.
He sat in his study, sitting in the darkness smoking a cigar and silently crying.
Later…
Dorothea woke from a horrible nightmare.
She dreamed she was back in the desert, alone in that horrible crumbling building hearing whispers in the dark. She was twelve again, in that dirty little sundress and barefoot. She was wandering around, looking for Philip.
"Philip! Help me!"
She cried out, wanting that nineteen year old boy with the shoulder length hair to appear. Instead all she found were empty hallways and rooms.
She heard something coming.
Running faster, she tried to find a way out. Her heart pounded in her chest, her eyes searching for Philip. She needed him.
She heard horrible laughing behind her, coming closer and closer…
Dorothea had snapped awake, alone in her bedroom. It was raining and she heard thunder sound in the distance. The A.C unit was on high and her entire body broke out in goose bumps. Her hands went down to her flat stomach underneath her clothes and she felt nothing.
Looking around she wanted Philip.
Sliding off the bed, she silently went down the hall, her bare feet touching the plush white carpet. Looking at the nursery room door, she sighed, she heard Philip lock it up earlier…just like a tomb. Walking to his study, she pushed the door open and found him sitting on one of the window sills, looking out and smoking a cigar. The window was pushed open slightly, and the sound of rain filled the dark room.
Dorothea stood there for a moment, staring at her husband who now seemed so much older. She hated herself for what happened, and hated herself for falling in love. Closing the door behind her she walked over.
Philip's faded blue eyes looked over, almost in pain.
"I thought you were asleep…"
His dry voice said.
Dorothea looked at him, her heart breaking.
"I can't sleep…could you come back with me?"
Philip looked at her and slowly shook his head, setting the cigar down in a crystal ashtray.
"No."
The silence surrounded them.
"Why?"
Dorothea said, struggling with her words.
Philip looked at her, his face pained.
"Because…of what I did."
Dorothea lowered her head and walked over, sitting beside him.
"It was a mistake…I know that."
"Dorothea…I…I promised myself the moment I laid eyes on you that I would always protect you. I…raped you…"
Dorothea shook her head.
"You would never hurt me on purpose, I know that. Philip…you were upset, I mean…you lost the baby just as much as me…"
"But I did, Jesus…"
Philip lowered his head, a silent tear rolling down his pale face.
Dorothea reached over, trying to touch him, to show any sign of comfort. Instead he flinched away.
"Don't…"
Dorothea looked at him puzzled.
"What?"
Philip looked at her.
"I broke my promise…"
"I love you Philip…I need you, please tell me you need me…"
Philip looked at her.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Where?"
"Vegas, a series of shows…"
"How long?"
"A few months give or take. I think you should stay here."
Dorothea sighed.
"Please Philip, I need you…"
Philip shook his head.
"Stay, you'll be safe."
"From what?"
"From everything, please…if you love me you'll stay."
Dorothea felt tears begin to build in her eyes.
"I love you so much Philip…"
Philip looked at her.
"If you got pregnant from today get an abortion."
"What?!"
"I mean it, I don't want a child that was made because of what I did today…promise me Dorothea, promise me you'll get it done if that happens."
"Philip…
"Promise me!"
His voice raised as tears spilled down Dorothea's cheeks. Slowly she said…
"I promise…"
Philip nodded looking out the window.
"You better go get some sleep…"
Dorothea reached over, slowly drawing herself near to him. Her hand gently went down to his crotch of his slacks and felt him. Slowly her hand rubbed up and down, waiting to feel him harden.
Instead, nothing.
She looked at him puzzled.
Philip looked away ashamed.
"Go to bed Dorothea…"
Dorothea shook her head, drawing herself to him, she hiked up her nightgown and sat on his lap. Pulling down his slacks, she stared right into his eyes and cupped the sides of his face.
"Say with me baby…stay with me."
She gently rubbed herself up against him, waiting for any reaction.
Philip looked in pain, he hitched in a deep breath as he rocked herself back and forth.
"We can get through this, we have each other…"
Philip looked at her.
"I'm so sorry Philip…the baby…"=
Philip shut his eyes.
"Please stop…please."
Dorothea felt him begin to react, reaching down she guided himself into her and stiffened. Lowering herself slowly, she settled and took a deep breath.
Philip looked at her, his hands limply holding her by her hips.
"Don't talk about him anymore Dorothea, he's dead."
Dorothea stared down at him crying.
"I love you Philip…I can't do this alone…"
Philip said nothing, Dorothea slowly moved on him before Philip lowered his head and pushed her off him.
"Stop…"
Dorothea rolled on the windowsill and watched him yank up his pants, ashamed and heartbroken. She watched as he stood up, still crying. Dorothea got up, trying to go over to him. Tears fan down her face as her confused eyes just needed some comfort. Just for him to hold her in his arms like he used to.
Instead he pushed her away.
"Go to bed Dorothea…go to bed."
He left her in the darkness of the study, standing completely alone and crying.
From that point onward Dorothea knew their marriage would never be the same.