The Love We Share

Esme stood on the platform, the weight of the world seemingly upon

her shoulders. Surrounded by bundles of dry sticks waiting to be lit

on fire, there was nothing she could do except hope for a miracle.

Phoebus, that monster, that fiend, that sex crazed dirty

jerk... it was his entire fault. He could not see her reasoning for not

wanting to let him have his way with her. She was not a whore. So for

not fulfilling his desires, he had her imprisoned. Imprisoned and then

tied to a pyre. She already knew where this would lead. She knew that

Phoebus was planning on killing her if she did not abide to his wants.

Esme knew she had to prepare herself for the burning. It was going to

be the most intense pain she had ever experienced. The licking of

flames upon her body, the smoke that made her eyes water and her lungs

gasp for air, were things she was not looking foreword to. But rather

that then spend a lifetime of misery with him... Why not just suffer

this one day instead of suffer sixty years?

Esme hoped the smoke would kill her first. She would rather leave

the world through suffocation rather than through being burned alive.

Phoebus now climbed the stairs to be atop the platform. In his

hand was a torch. The torch that would ultimately result in her death.

"Esme, my dear." he began in a mocking tone, "This is the last

chance you have to escape death. If you do not wish to please me, I

will set you in fire.". He said it so bluntly. So casually. It

outraged her how little her life meant to him. She was nothing more

than a toy to him. He had never loved her. Never. Even when he said

he did it was all a lie. And now he was the one yelling at her like

this was her fault? Where was the sense in this man?

Still waiting for a reply from her, she raised her head to meet

his eyes. They held nothing except greed and lust. She had revulsion

nearly rolling off of her at this man. No. He was never going to win.

She would not succumb and give him what he so dearly longed for.

"You will never have me as your own. I will never abide to your

wishes. You think of me as a whore with no soul and no feelings. But

I do. And I will never give myself to you, you idiotic, unmerciful

jerk!" she screamed at him in his face.

As soon as she finished she saw the rage ignite in his eyes in

disbelief. She was really willing to be burned to death before having


"You witch!". He bellowed. "I will have my way with you whether

you like it or not!". He quickly untied her and pulled her by the hair

down the platform stairs and into a little cottage.

"You think you have won," he said in a malicious voice. "you

think I will not have what I want. But I will. I will.". He then

pulled her to the bed and tore all of her clothes from her body before

doing the same to his.

Esme turned her head from him as if to protect her eyes.

Phoebus then climbed on top of her and held his hand to her neck.

"Listen you gypsy whore, you will please me, do you understand?"

Esme remained silent.

His grip on her tightened, probably leaving bruises. She almost

could not breath. All she could manage was a slight movement of the

head in a foreword manner.

He then claimed her lips. She tried not to yell and scream at her

disgust with this man. He roamed all over her body with one of his

hands as the other was still gripped upon her throat. When a certain

something brushed her thigh she yelped out in disgust.

"Shut up you wench! Do not make a sound!" he slapped her across

the face removing his hand from her neck. Then he returned to putting

his member between her legs. Tears began spilling over her eyes as he

put himself deeper and deeper into her.

Phoebus moaned in satisfaction, putting his hands on her breasts.

Esme was completely at his mercy and there was nothing she could

do. If she screamed, who would hear her? If someone heard her, who

would listen? Who would think she was being attacked by the captain of

the guard? No one would believe her anyway.

And a startling realisation was, he was never going to kill her.

She could not escape from this Hell unless she took her own life. And

right about did nit seem like a bad idea. But would he ever

leave her alone long enough for her to carry out her plans of self

infliction? Probably not. He would always have someone watching her

making sure she never tried anything funny.

More tears came with this thought. She cried to hard that she was

soaking Phoebus's shoulder. But he was so distracted that he took to

care to notice.

He was busy coming in an out of her like there was no tomorrow.

He moaned and groaned pressing himself even harder against her. That

was when she felt something about to happen. The knew he was about to

release something inside of her. She felt her stomach drop. How could

she avoid this from happening?

She pushed on his chest slightly as if to get him away.

He paused for a moment, breathing heavily and his eyes wild with


"Shut up! Shut up now!". He punched her stomach sending intense

pain all through her body.

She screamed at the pain only to be punched again. And again

repeatedly u till there was no part of that remained unscathed.

But she kept telling herself that it was better than being

poisoned by his seed.

"Stupid girl!" he said. "You do not even know how to

participate!". He got up from her and put his clothes back on.

Esme felt relief wash through her as he covered himself up. He

stepped outside for a moment and whispered something to one of the

guards he had posted.

"Make sure she does not leave this house. If I come back and she

is gone, you will be dead.". And hen jumped on his horse and rode away.

Esme was in immense pain. Every single part of her body ached.

She felt blood trickle from the side of her head.

Looking out the window through hazy eyes, she saw there were two

guards on either side of the door. There was but one window in the

tiny one room cottage, but she doubted it would be big enough for her

to fit through.

She dreaded the thought of him coming back. She knew that he only

brought with him pain and hurt. Nothing that could make her feel happy.

So she lay there on the bed, bleeding, naked, and in terrible

pain. She was dozing in and out of consciousness. All she could

remember whispering to herself was, "Please Lord, oh God Almighty in

heaven, please help me. Please help me..." over and over again, before

she passed out into the darkness.