Fate Rape

Awhile back Vocal challenged our memories in an official prompt to write about the first story you ever wrote. I started to enter the challenge but never completed my entry because things got busy and time swept me away, but this made me ponder what my first story really ever was.

My writing journey began as little as my hands could form letters. I remember my siblings wanting to play outside or with toys, and I was just excited about jotting things in a journal. But to really remember the first piece, first story, first anything that had imagination, a beginning, a middle, and possible end, was Fate Rape.

I wrote Fate Rape when I was about 19 years old. Writing back then is so different than now. Resources and ideas were so organic. I remember cutting people and places out of magazines to project what I envisioned in my mind my characters would look like. I remember I cut out this stunning dark hair blue eyed model for my male role, and a petite dark haired brunette for my main character. I found it during my move awhile back and said “what will I ever need this for?” because I was practicing purging and tossed it! Little did I know, living in times such as this where I cant even remember the last time I wrote a story in pen. I also don't dabble too much in fiction so coming across this "vintage rough draft" was time travel. So, yes, you could say I’m kicking myself for throwing it out. Thinking about my first story will put this 36 year old brain to the test.

It is a bit enticing though, to know that I’ve even kept it for that long in the first place. Like, do other writers hold on to things from their juvenile minds? Do you?

Here's the story:

This is one of those stories where I feel like I wrote it first and then somehow Hollywood finally caught on to the idea of how cool would it be if "a girl was kidnapped but fell in love with her kidnapper” storyline, which I want to say “365 days” was born in 2020 premiered by Netflix. Now, if you've seen the movie, their fifty shades of grey version was almost a little too ‘soft porn’ than my story, but our seductive suspenseful fantasy was analogous. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, I think that’s one of my toxic traits.

My story began with a young artist, musician to be exact. No clue her age but definitely 18-22. My character was famous, world renowned idol. She's caught up in the line-light and is battling depression because lets face it, being a celebrity is not always the fulfilling life. Her father is her manager and her family is really all she has and probably too young to know how to form anything different or make a world of her own.

After a couple of shows and tours they break for awhile and return to their estate in Los Angeles. Her room, was at the tip top, of a very secured princess Jasmine-like terrace. The side of her balcony where she usually feels like she can be outside in the world without having anyone to see her.

After dinner one night she retreats to her room, takes a shower and that was the last her family or the world had seen her. This is the part where I really wish I remembered the name I had named her because one too many characters and stories came after her as I matured, sadly. But for the sake of this story, we will call her Olive, Olivia Carson.

Its 12:53 a.m. and Olivia feels a gust of wind, slowly but rising as she usually keeps the terrace doors open. The noise was vague, but the wind was extravagant. A colossal wave of air pushing its way into her room. Her hair is blowing 100-miles and she can barely see what's happening, this was more than a storm. A masked man walks in, dressed in all black, James Bond style and says "come with me if you want to live."

Just kidding he doesn't say that.

Petrified as she was she knew where this was heading, a hostage situation and saw the firearms in his gear. Lots of gear, like a military extraction occurring.

Olivia pulls back in terror but the man adds force, blindfolding and cuffing her. Grabbing her by the arm then lifting her like she was a carry-on luggage. He sits her in the front seat of his small high tech plane or chopper and straps her in the front seat and he prepares for lift off.

As they depart, she sees her balcony and home, getting smaller and smaller peaking out the side of the blindfold and then vanishes into the darkness.

I could add more detail but we aren't writing the actual novel.

They make landfall and transfer to a jet, where they are then transported confidentially to a private island. One in the middle of the sea where even if she wanted to escape, she would have to swim her way out.

As she's escorted to her room of this exotic mansion she notices the luxury and just above her bed is a picture. A self portrait. Like a painted vintage version of herself. (I think this was even in the movie, if I remember correctly).

Whoever this man was had been keeping tabs on her for awhile, stalking and creating this very well thought-out fantasy kidnapping play by play. She knew she had to comply for him to set her free, but the fear and panic was very hard to trust anything happening. She was locked in her room and nobody came back til the next morning. Breakfast and lunch was delivered to the room, which she did not eat.

There was a red thin evening gown on the bed with a letter saying,

"See you at 8 for dinner, hope you are hungry"

"What kind of a sick joke she thought, how would I be hungry?"

".. but I will play along with your sick game."

She puts the dress on and sees the lipstick on the vanity with a note, 'help yourself ' - But she refuses the offer.

She's then escorted to the dining table where a man is sitting at the head, with no expression. He was dark, and mysterious. Staring right at her, as if she was the meal. She then took her seat across the 20-foot table. Waiting for instruction.

“Wine?” - he speaks.

“No”

Wine is poured anyway.

“You'll want to, as I know this is troubling for you.”

A meal is placed before her, a delicious one with fresh herbs, made just right.

“Eat.” -He says.

She complies.

They don't say much at all, so she decides to break the silence,

"Can I ask what I am doing here?"

"You can ask anything you want, it’s your home now."

Her skin crawled at the remark.

"My name is, Florence. Florence Rodrigo."

( For the stories sake, because I don't remember his name either).

He's got a strong accent, but she cant put a name to what kind.

He continues,

“I know this is crazy to you, but I hope you will open up to me. In a life where I can do anything I want, I was not achieving that.”

"And what was that?"

“You.” -He says.

She stares back wide-eyed, not a blink. Then bursting in outrage,

"I'm sorry, but from where I am from people who want other people usually ask their permission or take them on a proper date first"

"Is this not a proper date?" -he questioned.

He continues- "How does one take Olivia Carson on a date? Would that even be possible?"- he added.

"With all the money you have, you could've pretended to be anything or anybody, you would've figured out a way" she answered.

He smiles with impressiveness to her snarky humor.

"I'm really looking forward to getting to know you."

I'll break here in the story and wrap it up as I'm sure you are dying to know what happens next right?

Well as you can imagine, its everything and more, minus the sex.

Which my take on the film, "365 days" was quite unrealistic if you ask me, someone is kidnapped and willingly has sex all over the place, hence my comment earlier for it being more like 'soft porn'. The "pool boy seduces house maid" kind of screenplay, but kudos to the writers for making it big.

Mine gets as far as a kiss somewhere in the story where it was still resistant but less excruciating. Him being good looking helps. He could've been a fat slob, she thought.

The sense of kissing your charming, undeniably gorgeous stalker didn't quiver her lips but imagined his thoughts of getting to touch hers. She knew he manifested the moment. And in some, cringe-y human nature kind of way, she was stimulated by the idea.

He was gentle, and passionate. No tongue. She, couldn't admit that she liked it, because that couldn’t be healthy.

As they lived in the same roof for a little while longer the story goes on that she gets easier at complying but has ran off a few times knowing there is really no where to run. So she returns to this idea of 'if I pretend to fall in love with him maybe he'll let me go.'

By this point in the story there's missing reports, search teams and news media running wild as this marks a few weeks maybe months of her disappearance. The family comes to this decision of having a ceremony and the whole world mourns.

Life begins to go on.

But here, the psychological corruption starts to eat away at her mind, allowing her flesh to play its tricks of emotion. I don’t think we need to be kidnapped for this to happen.

She begins to feel things. Not "love" feelings, but, feelings. Lets just say she wasn't disappointed or even hated seeing him. One morning she even started wearing the lipstick he placed on her vanity.

He knew, he just hoped it to be genuine. He was careful.

They went on beach strolls, picnics, and one morning, they went for a swim. Where he brushed against her gently and she didn't move.

She couldn't figure out if this consenting was for the roleplay, or the pleasure.

They kissed, and kissed hard.

Olivia knew, this couldn't continue it would be absolute insanity.

"They would have to commit me if I fell inlove with this man"

Imagine having to explain this to your parents?

Mom and dad- "How'd you meet him?"

"Remember that one time I went missing for a month?"

I'd imagine their response would be nothing less of “what color straight jacket would you prefer?”

Any who, back to what really happens. This story ends with Florence realizing his love for her had gone too far. He then gives her the option to stay, or leave and even to expose his identity putting him away forever.

However, I never did not finish the ending. Maybe I didn't want to.

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Share your thoughts in the comments below how you think it should end.