********************
Written by: Francoise
Chapter 2
Almost three years went by. Then one day, a terrible thing happened: Rebecca was alone in the house when Vince came in. He looked at her with lustful eyes. They were in the living room; she wanted to leave for the kitchen, but he stood in her way. He spoke to her, his voice hoarse with desire:
- Becky, you don't like Edith very much, do you?
- Well, I... respect her. She's my stepmother.
- Do you like me?
- I respect you, too.
- I love you, baby. And I don't like the way Edith treats you.
He took her in his arms. She tried to free herself. He whispered in her ear:
- Listen! I'm so glad that we're alone at last. If you're nice with me, I'll see that your life gets easier. I have a big influence on Edith. She's crazy about me... but I'm crazy about you.
He tried to kiss her but she pushed him and tried to escape. He caught her and threw her on the couch. She screamed and tried to break free. He slapped her in the face and roared:
- I've been wanting you since that old vixen brought me here. Shut up and enjoy! You're gonna love it!
She fought but he was stronger than she was. He ripped off her blouse and was about to take off the rest of her clothes despite her supplications and her tears, when somebody shouted:
- WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?
It was Edith. She saw her stepdaughter, lying on the couch, half-naked. Vince, who had quickly jumped on his feet, told Edith:
- That girl is crazy. She came in here, began to undress, and jumped on me like a nymphomaniac.
Rebecca was horrified. Before she could protest, Edith was on her, beating her and yelling insults. Finally, Rebecca managed to break free, grabbed a jacket that was on a hook in the hall and ran away.
Night has fallen down since long when Rebecca realized she was too tired to continue walking an running. And California streets were not safe, at night, for a lonely girl. She didn't get out of the hand of an aggressor to fall into the hands of another one. She would knock on doors, hoping that a kind soul would feel pity for her and would offer her shelter for the night. Now, there she was, physically and mentally hurt, in front of a house on Beechwood Avenue.
She knocked on the door. Nobody answered. "Oh, no!" she said, and she shook the handle of the door with frustration. The door opened! She entered.
- Anybody there?
No answer. She walked a few steps, when she saw the kitchen. She was so hungry, she couldn't resist to rummaging in the cupboards and the fridge and she ate a big piece of bread and drank two glasses of milk. She felt a little bit guilty, so she decided to do a little cleaning. This house was a mess! She placed everything in order, dusted the furniture and swept the floor. Then, feeling tired, she sat on the couch and soon fell in a deep sleep.
********************