The Dream

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The damp asphalt mixed with oil assaulted her nose. His hands. His hands tore at the clothes protecting her body. Silent tears plagued her dirty skin.

Somewhere in the vicinity she heard the sound of flesh coming in contact with the ground. Through her murky vision she saw Eli hit the unforgiving floor. His face forcefully turned to face her.

Rough calloused hands scrapped her now unclothed thighs, bending her towards the tired brick wall. The metallic sound of a zipper filled her ears. Her eyes opened wide as a searing pain filled between her legs. She let out a guttural scream that tore at the very fabric of the darkness that surrounded them. The man behind her plunged himself in and out of her womanhood without remorse of her virginity. Clare released a choked sobbed. Her auburn curls hung lifelessly around her swollen cheeks.

Eli tried to struggle against his merciless attackers. His Clare was hurting and there wasn't a damned thing he could do it about it without getting her killed. Her tear strained cries for help left his ears ringing.

"Look at that nice tight ass." His attacker slithered in his ear.

Eli looked on helplessly. He tried to shake the man who was lazily sitting on his back off, but that move proved to be futile as Eli was struck forcefully in the side of his head with the butt of a gun.

The man on top of Clare seemed to be finished with her, casting her aside into the wall. She slid down into the fetal position. Her naked body was shaking and whimpering.

Eli dragged himself over to her forlorn figure when the coast was clear. She shrank back into the wall as he reached for her.

"Hey hey. It's just me," He whispered, "It's your Eli. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"E…Eli?" She mumbled.

"Yeah."

For a moment she remained still, just trying to hold herself together before latching her arms around Eli's neck. He could feel her body shivering against his own.

Clare flew up from her bed, nearly landing on the floor. She caught herself on her quivering forearms. Her lungs felt constricted as if she had been running a marathon. She rubbed her tired eyes, trying not to revel in the dream.

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This is one of the variations of the dream I seem to have sadly.