“Jerrie?” a soft voice asked, just in front of the calico tom. Mungojerrie’s head shot up. He glared.
“Wha are ya stalkin’ me, Jemima? Ya’ve been followin’ me fer three daiys na!”
“I’m sorry,” Jemima said, backing away a bit. “I just wanna talk to you, Jerrie.”
“Wha?” Jerrie demanded.
“I… I just do,” Jemima said softly, her sapphire eyes pleading. “Please, Jerrie, talk to me.”
“No!” Jerrie said fiercely, turning away from her. His face burned with shame. Jemima was his friend. He had once brought her a silver hairbrush, and she had let him brush her til her fur shone. They both had enjoyed that afternoon.
“Why not?” Jemima pleaded, stepping closer to him.
“Ai don’ wanna talk to ya!” Jerrie said, refusing to turn around.
Jemima sat down on the steps that led up to the tire. She gazed sadly up at Jerrie. “Jerrie, don’t shut me out,” she pleaded.
Jerrie turned to face her, his eyes holding sorrow and anger. “Wha cancha jes’ leave me alone, Jem? Ai wanna be alone!”
Jemima said nothing, just turned her back to him, her chin resting on her paw, her back plainly telling Jerrie I can wait.
Jerrie gave a soft growl of frustration and stretched out on the tire, wanting to be alone.
Jemima stared off into nothing for a while, then closed her eyes, sinking her head deeper into her paw.
Jerrie watched her, feeling a bit guilty. She wanted to talk, but she didn’t understand. None of them did. He sighed and curled his tail around himself. Why couldn’t she leave him alone? Why was she constantly pestering him?
Jemima heard his sigh and slowly turned around. She stared at Jerrie’s back for a moment. She wanted to reach out to him, rub his shoulders, purr in his ear, let him know everything would be okay, but she couldn’t. She sighed and turned away, staring off into the junkyard. Nothing stirred. Everything and everyone had been quiet for the last three days.
What would they do at the Ball? Would they pull it together? Would they even celebrate it?
“Jerrie?” Jemima asked softly. “Will you still come to the Ball?”
Jerrie glared at nothing before answering curtly. “Wha shoul’ Ai?” He still didn’t bother to turn around.
Jemima bit her lip. “It… it would be nice if you came.”
“Wha?” Jerrie demanded again, his voice bitter. “Teaza ain’ ‘ere fer us ta do our song. An’ evraone will be all crowdin’ ‘roun’ me bein’ all ‘appy an’ cheerful. Shoul’ Ai go so they ca’ gimme all those phony Ai’m sorrees and Ai know ‘ow ya feel?” The phrases came out sarcastic and angry, like he meant them to.
Jemima cringed. “We just want to help you, Jerrie.”
“The bes’ waiy ta ‘elp me is jes ta leave me alone, an’ le’ me cry!” Jerrie hissed.
Jemima fell silent for a bit. Her eyes fell to her feet for a moment, then back up to the evening sky. “What will you do then?”
“Ai-don’t-know!” Jerrie snapped, enunciating each word separately. “Teaza ain’ ‘ere, so Ai ‘ave no reason ta go.”
“I still wish you would,” Jemima said softly.
“Maiybe if ya stop pesterin’ me abou’ it, Ai woul’!” Jerrie snapped, whirling around to face her, his brown eyes blazing fire.
Jemima hushed again and cowered under his gaze. Jerrie slowly turned away again. Jemima bit her lip to hold back tears over his harsh words. She turned back to the junkyard. After a bit, she started to talk again.
“It will be beautiful, you know,” she said softly. “Soft music, delicious food, lots of cats. Old Deuteronomy will be there, and one cat will go to the Heavyside Layer. I bet almost anything it will be Gus.”
“Ai’m surprised ‘e e’en maide it anotha year,” Jerrie mumbled under his breath, forgetting his resolve not to speak to her.
Jemima ignored the comment. “And this year I get to lose my innocence and become an adult!” she continued, her voice sounding so light and carefree. “I think it will be fun! I wonder who will be my two partners.”
Jerrie’s mind drifted back to about three Jellicle Balls ago, when he had lost his innocence. The first time, it had been with his friend, Bombalurina. He remembered how short he had felt, since Bom was the tallest queen in the tribe. The second time, it had been with Cassandra, who also was taller than him by a good inch or three. How did he keep ending up with such tall queens?
The next year had been almost as fun, when Teazer had lost her innocence. Jerrie had tried not to growl at Admetus and Victor, the two toms she had danced with, and she obviously had enjoyed herself very much, but he was glad to have her back in his arms.
“Maybe with Pouncival,” Jemima said, speaking more to herself now than to Mungojerrie. “He’s gonna lose his innocence too. Or maybe Carbucketty.”
Jerrie hissed angrily. “Will ya be quiet already?”
Jemima shushed again. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Jemima spoke again. “Jerrie?” Jerrie growled. Jemima ignored it and continued. “Did you ever regret joining us?”
Jerrie didn’t answer.
“Jerrie, please talk to me,” Jemima pleaded.
“Ai don’t wanna!” Jerrie said, his lips curving back in a scowl, though Jemima could not see it when his back was turned.
Jemima fought back tears and cleared her throat softly. “I… I was really glad you decided to join.” Jerrie said nothing again. “I… I thought you were really nice.”
“’Ow ca’ ya saiy tha’?” Jerrie demanded. “Ai ignored ya til Ai caught ya pokin’ ‘roun’ in me stuff.”
Jemima blushed a bit, remembering the day Mungojerrie had found her snooping in his bag. He had really scared her, but at least he had talked to her.
“An’ ya still ‘aven’t learned ta leave othas alone!” Jerrie added meanly, wanting to hurt her feelings.
Jemima was silent a moment. She rested her chin on her paw again. “Jerrie?”
“Shut up!”
“Jerrie-”
“Ai said shut up!”
“Jerrie, please, listen!”
“No!”
“I’m not leaving til you listen.”
“Ya’ll be ‘ere a long time.” Jerrie’s words were bitter.
“I’ll live.”
When Jerrie had no answer, Jemima charged on. “Jerrie, I know you’ve heard this a million times, but I’m sorry.”
Jerrie growled under his breath. Why was she rubbing lemon juice on the wounds? He was hurting enough already.
“I know no one can replace Teazer, and I know you probably don’t want anyone to, but I just want to say I’m here for you.”
“Fer wha’?” Jerrie demanded. “Ai don’ wanna talk ta ya!”
Jemima turned to Jerrie, her sapphire eyes teary. “Jerrie, please, why not?”
Jerrie turned to look at her, his brown eyes full of hot, bitter anger. “Because ya’re buggin’ me! Ai asked ya ta leave me alone!”
“Jerrie-”
“No! Jem, ya’ve ‘urt me enough!”
Jemima turned away and buried her face in her paws, her shoulders shaking. “I didn’t try, Jerrie. Honest I didn’t.”
Jerrie ignored her and wrapped his tail tighter around himself. He wanted to curl up in a ball, pull his tail to his chest and hold it like he used to when he was a kitten. It had always comforted him, especially when Teazer was not there. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears threatening to invade his eyes and spill over his already tear-stained cheeks.
It was quiet for a few minutes, minus Jemima’s quiet sobbing. Jerrie couldn’t feel sorry for all he had said to her. He was still too hurt over Teazer’s death, and Jemima’s words penetrated his heart like a sword.
“T… Teazer was a wonderful queen,” Jemima sobbed out after a bit, looking up and out into the junkyard. “She… she was a good friend, Jerrie. I miss her a lot.”
“Shut up!” Jerrie hissed for the millionth time. He missed her too! What did Jemima think? That she was Teazer’s only friend in the world?
“She was so nice and sweet and kind,” Jem continued, sniffling a bit. “She was always so nice to me. I loved her like my own sister.”
Jerrie covered his ears. Like my own sister??? What right did Jemima have to call her that???
“An… and she loved that song, Jerrie. You remember. Moonlight? The one I sang at the Ball and… and at the funeral?”
“’Ow coul’ Ai ferget?” Jerrie demanded, his words sarcastic. That song had been haunting him since Jemima sang it the day before. He glared at the back of Jemima’s head.
Jemima softly began to hum to herself, then slowly formed the music into crystal words. “Moonlight, turn your face to the moonlight…”
“Do ya ’ave ta sing tha’?” Jerrie snapped.
Jemima didn’t answer. Her teary, sapphire eyes were back in that soft place between sleep and awake, the one place where you can understand all the secrets of the whole world before it fades into reality. Her eyes glowed brilliantly, two glowing orbs in the late-evening darkness. She sat deathly still, nothing moving but her mouth and the rise and fall of her chest as she sang the silver-drenched song, note after haunting note. Notes that burned like a white-hot poker into Jerrie’s already wounded heart. He felt his heart shatter soundlessly into a zillion pieces as he listened to the song he could not comprehend, but yet one his sister had understood and taken to heart. “Jemima, shut up!” he snarled as meanly as he could. But Jemima did not listen. Perhaps she could not even hear him in her dreamy state. She was filled with the music of the Heavyside, and her spirit was full of awe as she let the words drip like gold from her red lips. Jerrie focused on Jemima a moment. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, so pure. So perfect. Perfect for what he had to do…
An overwhelming urge to hurt this quitten hit Jerrie like a brick wall. He needed to shut her up, to make her stop singing, to make her pay for what she’d done to him! Her words hurt him more than he could bear. With a snarl, he leaped off the tire, tackled Jemima from behind, knocking her to the ground on her back. Jemima hit the ground with a mew of pain, her eyes wide. Jerrie planted his paws on her slender shoulders to keep her down. Jemima’s eyes went wider with fear, but she made no move to resist. Jerrie put his mouth close to Jemima’s ear. “Yer gonna learn, ki’en. Yer gonna learn ta keep yer mouth shut!” he hissed.
Jerrie’s brown eyes were merciless and cold. He studied Jemima a moment. He was going to hurt her. Really hurt her. The only way he knew how. Jemima began to cry. “Jerrie, what-.”
Jerrie slapped her across the face, then, before she had a chance to react, forced himself on top of her, swiftly deciding to carry out his plan. He straddled her body with his legs and pushed her down til he was sure the rough ground was digging into her back. His paws ran down her soft frame, over her white stomach and breasts. Jemima flinched, but she didn’t say anything. Jerrie smirked. He wanted Jemima to cry, to fight, to tell him to stop, to scream, beg, sob for mercy. He began to violate her.
Jemima gave a small whimper of fear. Jerrie slapped her across the face. Jemima suppressed another cry. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears trickling out of the corners of her eyes. Her face was turned towards Jerrie’s own. She couldn’t resist, but she found that she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to.
As he tortured her, hundreds of thoughts assaulted Jerrie’s brain. Why are you doing this? She’s your friend! Stop this! But she’s a queen! You’re supposed to control her! Look how scared she is! She won’t ever be so cruel to you again!
All the anger he had held back, anger over Teazer’s death, the fear of never seeing her again, the many times he had resisted the temptation to violate queens as one of Macavity’s henchcats… All this he poured out into Jemima’s purity. It was new to him. But it felt so good! He had never done this before, but it felt so good to relieve his anger on someone. He smiled to himself and ran his paws down Jemima’s body, touching her in places that would make her uncomfortable. Jemima gasped and opened her eyes, but she did not move. Silent tears streamed down her pale cheeks.
Jerrie remembered when he had come upon Macavity once, as a younger tom. Macavity had a young, beautiful queen pinned on her back. The queen was screaming and crying, and Macavity was beating her across the face and hurting her body as he violated her. His ginger face was full of anger and hatred as he smacked her over and over again. His golden eyes turned to the frightened kitten nearby. His lips curled back in an evil smile, revealing rows of gleaming fangs. From his throat came cruel words that branded themselves into Jerrie’s mind: “No mercy. It’s the only way to control queens. One day you’ll do it too. Show no mercy.”
And now he was. He was showing Jemima no mercy. He was controlling her. He wasn’t sure if he was doing everything right, but it didn’t matter. He just needed to hurt her. His first time ever doing this to a queen, and no doubt Jemima’s first time too.
He was hurting her. It hurt… his touch. His paws were resting painfully on her shoulders, the sharp gravel digging into her back as he pressed her down. Jemima couldn’t help giving a small whimper of pain. Jerrie struck her across the face. “Shut up!” he hissed.
Jemima’s face stung from the heavy blow, but she dared not scream. Her eyes were wide, stunned. She was frightened, but, yet, she could not bear to push Mungojerrie away, not that she could anyway.
Jerrie pushed her down harder and placed his mouth close to her silky ear. He began to whisper softly in her ear, using words he had learned from the strays, words he didn’t repeat in front of Jellicles or in front of Teazer. But now he used them. To hurt Jemima. To scare her. To make her feel dirty. To make her feel violated. To make her feel ashamed. As he spoke, he ran his paws down her body, over her breasts and stomach. He could feel Jemima shivering under his touch.
Jerrie’s words scared her and made her shudder at his cruelty. “Jerrie, stop,” Jemima whispered.
Jerrie slapped her across the face once, twice, three times. “Shut up!” he hissed. “Ya shut up, or Ai swear Ai’ll kill ya!” That froze her. Jemima took this threat from the crazed tom seriously.
Jerrie was enjoying himself as he tortured the queen who had caused him so much grief. He purred a bit and pressed his paws down on Jemima’s body, his wandering paws leaving bruises on her soft skin. Jemima held back the horrible screams that welled in her throat. “Jerrie,” she whispered softly, unable to bring her voice above a whisper.
“Shut up!” Jerrie hissed with delight. He loved this. He was loving Jemima, though not in the right sense. He took her. He took her innocence like the semi had taken his sister. Suddenly, quickly, full of pain, anger, fear. Every emotion of hate and fear and anger he had bottled up inside.
Jemima inwardly cursed her body for accepting Jerrie’s treatment of her. She didn’t want him to do this, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She had to take it. She felt his whiskers brush across her face as he gave her a hard, mean kiss on the lips. A hard, passionate kiss on her soft, luscious lips. She gasped and struggled her arms free of Jerrie’s grip. She tried to shove him away, at least to get his lips off hers, but Jerrie just grabbed her paws and wrapped his own paws around them, embracing her tighter. He stroked her throat softly with one free finger. “Ya’re so pretty, Jemima. Ai don’ know wha Ai din’ do this soona.”
Jemima let out a small scream of fright. Jerrie clapped a paw over her mouth and slapped her face with the back of his paw. Jemima began to sob again, her tears running over Jerrie’s paw.
Jerrie finally finished, pausing to nuzzle Jemima’s neck and kiss her on the lips. He pushed himself off her, pushing her down hard as he did. Jemima squeaked. Jerrie slapped her again.
Suddenly Jerrie’s eyes were opened to what he had just done. Poor Jemima lay sprawled on her back at his feet, her paws up by hr chest, her hands outspread, her fingers curled slightly, as if up to protect her body from him. Her legs lay twisted at odd angles, as he had not allowed her to move when he had tackled her. Her face was pale and streaked with tears. Her cheeks were red from where he had numerously slapped her, a sharp contrast to the white of her pale face. Her fur was damp with sweat, and she trembled madly. Her body was covered with smudges and bruises from his wandering hands. Her ears were flat against her skull, and her tail lay next to her sprawled legs. Her frightened eyes stared up at him. Her eyes… they looked so different. They were still the same two, pretty, sapphire orbs, but she no longer had the free, innocent, carefree look. Instead, her eyes were damp with tears, defeated, scared, full of hurt, confusion, terror, pain, brokenness.
“Jem… Ai…” Jerrie couldn’t speak. He tried to say something. Anything. He had to tell her that he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant it, that he didn’t know why he had done that, that he would never touch her again, but he couldn’t make his voice work. He couldn’t push out the words he so needed to speak.
Slowly, Jerrie held out his trembling paw to help her up. Jemima’s gaze fell to his paw, then back up to his face. Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. She closed her eyes a moment, feeling dizzy, before opening them again. She looked at Jerrie’s paw, then at her own that were curled against her breasts. She ever, ever so slowly lifted a paw and placed it in Jerrie’s orange one, her own trembling just as bad as his. Jerrie gently pulled her to her feet. She stared up at him, her eyes blank.
Jerrie hugged her gently. “Ai’m… Ai’m sorree, Jem. Ai reallee am. Ai din’ mean ta ‘urt ya. Ai don’ know wha’ caime ova me. Ai… Ai’m sorree.”
Jemima did not, could not, return his humble embrace. Jerrie released her, and she backed away, tears flooding her eyes again. “Ai… Ai wish Ai coul’ taike it back, bu’ Ai can’. Ai’m real sorree. Are… are ya okaiy?”
Jemima nodded slowly. Then she burst into tears and raced away, her face buried in her paws, sobbing. Jerrie watched her go, his heart crushed into a zillion delicate shards. As soon as she was out of sight, he turned and raced away in the opposite direction, out of the junkyard. That was it! He couldn’t do this anymore!…
