The Story

I saw it in her eyes, the pain which tells a story of rape. Her eyes, so beautiful filled with such a relentless fear told me she could never live it down. She would walk down the street, she would hear people calling her names, only seeing one thing she could offer and she believed it. She never thought she was more then what she was meant out to be, but no one ever bothered to say anything. At night she would relive the experience, nightmares, the scars and the mental ramifications. And each day a little more of her would die, she was just a shell of a person who once was; so happy so full of life, and hopeful. The scars which had long since healed left her feeling dirty, she would shower 3 times a day but they wouldn’t scrub off, she would scrub until it bled but nothing.

She was a beautififul girl, and at 19 she looked much older then she was, long dark hair and deep blue eyes, she had the classic hourglass figure and she was so beautiful to look at. She was in school to become an author; she wanted to write children’s books she was creative and very talented. She was named after the Goddess of Wisdom and war, Athena. Athena was never able to tell her parents what had happened to her, she believed they would think less of her, that they would reject her, just like her boyfriend did. Crying for most people alleviates the pain, but for Athena tears were a side effect of her pain, the tears would flow down her face making the make up run, the hopelessness when she cried was unbearable, But crying never helped Athena, it made the pain worse.

When I happened upon Athena she had been sitting in her usual spot at starbucks, her eyes relaying the pain of a young girl who’s innocence had been torn away, and as usual the crowds of young men had their eyes trained upon her as if she was an object. In usual circumstances I would have looked upon her, admired the seamless beauty she portrayed and continued on drinking my Grande Sumatra and thinking about ancient history. I suppose God himself tapped me on the shoulder. Because as my eyes strayed upon her, hers were locked upon me as well, and I was caught. Her eyes, spoke a story I had never known fully, but at that moment, I knew it was real.

For me I suppose the right words in the right circumstances just happen upon me, because something within myself informed me I had to tell Athena. I walked over to her, and as I looked upon her, I could feel what she felt, I could see him clearly, his body pushing against hers, tearing away at her. My eyes filled with tears, and they flowed freely, my heart had become heavy and I felt like I could lose the hotdog I had for breakfast. I struggled to overcome the sickness that had overtaken me, and I spoke to her. I asked her name and she told me “Athena”, I told her it was fitting for a Goddess. I looked into her eyes to relay the message that had happened upon me, “Athena” I said, “The pain in which you feel, is something I could never fathom. But I see it in your eyes clear as daylight, there are parables, which speak of Angels, sent by God to save the world. The pain they experience is nothing short of vile, but you must know that you are special, and an Angel, You will change others with the pain you have experienced. You will overcome, and you will experience some release, because he could never take away your being and your passion”. Athena looked at me, the tears forming in her eyes, she was unable to respond, but I saw that she understood. I was in complete awe, I couldn’t believe anyone as incredible as Athena could be defiled in such a way, and I don’t believe I will ever forget her beautiful eyes; tears flowing, the pain seemingly engulfing her.
It was a week later, when sitting in my usual spot, I saw her again. This time Athena was bold enough to come and talk to me. She asked if she could take a seat next to me, and ordered a cappuccino. To say the least I was amazed she wanted to talk to me, but my mind had needed a rest from the usual subject I was pondering, something about ancient Egypt. Athena sat, she took a moment to gather her thoughts, and she spoke. She asked how I knew what she was feeling, and why I would care. I replied that I saw in her eyes she holds a deep secret, the kind of secret, which tears at your being and causes you, to fall into yourself. I told her that I have seen that kind of pain kill people, I have seen it drive some to places they could have never imagined. It for instance, drove my sister to cocaine and prostitution at 14. And I never forgot the bruises she had from fistfights, and dates gone wrong. To her next question I replied that, I loved a girl who was like Athena, and who was so beautiful it took my breath away to think of her. I told her that, I was never able to tell her what she meant to me, and she ended up being used and hurt by various different guys, and that I swore I would never let it happen again. Athena thought about this as if maybe I had other motives, but seemed perplexed that I hadn’t made any remarks about the way she looked. Without needing the question, I said to her “Athena, I want nothing from you, but I want something for you, I want for you to be able to look outside and see the potential for you life, instead of the pain. I have no intention of trying anything that would cause you hurt in any way”. Athena accepted this.

I rang the doorbell, I was in disbelief that I was standing here, in all actuality I couldn’t believe that she had invited me to her door, but I was here. She had a small apartment, it was beautiful, and the suite in which she lived was part of an old Victorian home in the most beautiful part of town. Everywhere I looked, I saw inspiration, from the print of Mona Lisa, to the Oscar Wilde sitting on her table. I mentioned to her, the meaning behind the name Mona Lisa, that if one rearranges the name you would get Amon and Isis the male and female gods of fertility. She knew this, but was amazed that I did as well.

As we sat, I could smell the aroma of freshly brewed tea, I happened to glance out the window and I could see the ocean, with a slight breeze flowing through the trees near the causeway. At the same moment, Athena walked in and I could smell the perfume she always wore. We sat and drank tea in silence, finally as an icebreaker I asked what she was reading, she replied she had found Dan Brown quite intriguing and was reading demons and Angels. I of course had to mention the Da Vinci Code and the 76.5 million dollars it made, she then told me she knew this.

I could see the ancient in her eyes, and a power held there which I could only imagine ever happening upon. I remember when I was growing up my mother, an artist who doubled as a feminist had told me she had been raped. She told me, that every woman was special and perfect because they had the ability to make life and sustain it. All the women I had ever known whether they were of sound mind or not seemed to me, to be almost angelic. I had always wanted to see women as they saw the world, with emotion and compassion. And when presented with Athena I could see she lived this too, sometimes, she would sit in her little loft and read for hours, it seemed to be the only thing she was able to do that took the pain for a little while. She had tried smoking Pot and snorting cocaine, but the emptiness became a void, and the hurt seemed that much more intense. Athena and I chatted about politics, and different theories regarding the middle-east peace Process (we thought it was fruitless) and slowly settled once again, to Athena herself. I had never known a Girl who could captivate me as much as Athena, I found myself hanging off her every word, hungry for more. She spoke with an eloquence and sophistication that left me feeling envious, and when she smiled I could swear I was sinking.

Matthew J