“Oh, God no!” I whisper brokenly to myself. Seeing the dead end of the alley just ahead of me. I quickly try to find a way out, but this is not possible here in Rome in 20 b.c. there are no such things as fire escapes or cars to run to.
My tattered cloak and dress fly around me, as i stop, I make up my mind to die with dignity. I turn around and face my attacker with no fear calling out to him, “Do what you will, ruffian, you are nothing and no one to have to attack young women in dark alleys.” my chin thrust up in a defiant nature i glare in his dark eyes.
He stops just 3 feet away from me, something i do not like gleaming in his cold eyes. “You know what i want, and you will give it to me or i shall kill you.” he steps closer and i now know what he means to do to me. I gasp when he pulls me close to him and start to grope me and pull at my clothes.
Screaming loudly, I feel the force of the blow of his big hand against my soft face leaving a large red hand print. I spit in his face for his act of violence and only succeed in making him even more angry.
He rips my dress, trying to get at what he wants. I struggle against his rock hard body, trying without success to escape from this gruesome experience that i am about to o’er take. “oh god someone save me from this disgrace. I have done nothing to no one and i am being punnished with a fate worse than death.” i whisper, starting to cry softly.
I struggle even more when his greasy paw of a hand rubs against a place that no man has ever touched before. Crying, i break free from his grip and try to run. Unfortunately i only succeed in making him more angry and he hits me hard in my stomach. I gasp in pain and anger, falling to the ground clutching at my painful abdoman. I see the knife, gleaming brightly in the light of the full moon. He slowly brings it to my face. “Listen, wench, i could end your life right now.” he says in his gravely voice.
“Then end it. I could not live in such disgrace as you intend to do to me. i would kill myself soon after.” I scream at him.
“this is your choice, woman” he calmly says, bringing the knife back and thrusting it into my still painful stomach. I gasp as the red hot pain hits me in waves, falling back on the hard cobble stones, i black out.
Dimly i am aware of his echoing boots on the ground as he runs away. Aware of someone calling to me. Aware of someone lifting me up, of cold air, of warm shelter. Aware of the pain in my kneck , then the warmness of the liquid in my mouth. Then blackness overtakes my exhausted and sore body.