Scattered Pages: Katherine

"Loose lips sink ships

So come aboard for a pleasure trip

It's high tide, so let's ride

The moon is rising and so am I" ACDC

I am 22 today; if it's Tuesday the 8th of August 2006.

You're reading this so I'm either dead or one of those famous victims. The sort you hear about for a year or two until the movie comes out and after that only whenever some bore is trying to impress at dinner parties with his knowledge of Australian criminality or when a mum is trying to scare her teenage daughter into getting home on time.

I hope I am dead. I can live like this and I don't wish for death but I never want to be, 'that girl, you know the one the psycho kept in a cave.'

My name is Katherine. Katherine Rose Kelly.

I found this old exercise book in the house and snuck it away with a pen or two hoping it would keep me sane having someone to talk to. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I just want to feel like I am talking to someone. (So much for sanity.)

Last night while I listened to him moving about upstairs, it struck me that the really difficult part about telling my story will be trying to stop it being 'normal' because that's how it feels now and to try and get across what it was like when each bit happened. I'll try to explain how I feel about what is done to me but I think I am dead in that place where I used to feel fear and disgust and shame and all those other feelings normal people have. I still feel happy now and then so I suppose I am not completely broken.

Anyway, on New Year's Day this year I woke up with a terrible hangover. To make things worse he hung around for breakfast and tried to talk me back in to bed a dozen times. I drank coffee and tried to think of a polite way to ask him to leave. I couldn't remember his name so politeness was a bit of a wasted effort so I ended up just telling him to fuck off. If I remember correctly I said, "look pin dick, you're not getting another root, it's time to fuck off."

He left.

I sat around for ages that day wondering how I ended up working in a pub and being stupid enough to think I might find love or something like it in the beery faces of a crowd of drunken miners. I was so far from what I had dreamed of for myself. I had to take control of my life and make some changes.

So that was how, six hours later, still a little hungover, I was driving my commodore south down the Stuart highway with all my earthly belongings fitting nicely in the boot. I felt so free and yet I almost turned around a dozen times.

----

With every kilometre I put between Darwin and me, I felt better though.. I was heading towards Brisbane, a few thousand kilometers away for a fresh start and for the life I always imagined. Maybe I'd get an office job, a boss who fell in love with me, three kids and four wheel drive.

It was a three hour drive from Darwin to Katherine and I stopped for fuel just on dark. While I filled the car with petrol I looked west at the most glorious sunset. Red clouds faded into pinks and oranges and the black horizon looked like all my troubles falling behind me. It spoke to me telling me the rest of my life was going to be this brilliant and colourful. It certainly got the colour right.

I drove through Newcastle Waters in the dark of night singing loudly to the Dixie Chicks and smoking winfield blues. I was high on life and just a little on the 'goey' Justine gave me as a going away present. Just out of town I stopped and squatted beside the commodore. The night was so damn quite that the sound of pissing yelled into the wide open spaces. I saw car lights in the distance and it felt kind of comforting to know someone else was out here in my cool lonely night.

Back on the road a half hour later, the headlights I had seen turned into a four wheel drive ute that overtook me, it's load of dead kangaroos swinging from the racks on the back as it hurtled by. "Man on a mission," I thought to myself and switched from petrol to lpg.

By the time the lights of the Three Ways Roadhouse appeared I had sung through all my Dixie chicks albums at least once and I had dropped another finger nail of 'whizz' in a can of coke. My eyes were open against the blur of white lines outside and were gonna stay that way for quite a while. I'd faced my regrets and doubts and left them miles behind me. I was excited at this brand new life. I was wired; I wanted it to start right now and by sweet baby Jesus I was horny. My knickers were sticking to me in the way that good girls' don't and I loved every moment of every one of these sensations. I was alive like I had not felt in ages.

I'm not proud of what I did at the roadhouse. It wasn't one of my finer moments but it's one of my last fun memories so I'll be honest about it like your mothers, wives, sisters and girlfriends will never be about their own promiscuous moments.

---

When I opened the car door it was cold. I guess I hadn't noticed in the car. I wished for a moment that I had a longer skirt on and maybe even a long sleeved shirt. The fresh air on my bare arms and legs raised goosebumps and just peaked me even more. 'Alive' I wanted to scream into the night. I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and stood beside the car listening to the slow crackle of cooling parts and opened my purse.

I had saved two grand in tips (not hard in a topless bar) over the last two years and it scared me to carry this much cash. I took my visa card out of the purse and threw the cash in underneath my seat. I stood with the fuel hose hard against me and felt every pulse of it watching the numbers on the pump tick over like spastic slot machines.

I must have been off with the other amped up road tripping fairies, I didn't see the ute and its load of 'roos at the pump beside me until he nodded. Even then, it wasn't until I nodded back that I took any notice of him. The smell of blood and the carnality of the cargo sent a weird ripple of excitement through me. There's nothing like death to make life seem so vivid.

Far away I could hear Chris Isaac crooning some strange shit about the moon and desire through tin can speakers and then Roo Boy spoke.

"Nice night for it."

"What?"

"Driving... it's kinda just right tonight hey? You got far to go."

I swear I came just standing there. He was tall and all wavy hair and muscled arms. Wiry and gruesome and carnal with blood on his jeans and his easy smile. Speech departed and left me simply standing there staring.

"Sorry love, don't mean to... well... just being friendly. 'Scuse me."

And then he did it. Tipped his hat.

If my knickers weren't already wet they were drowned now. I tried to speak - I swear I did. Just then the nozzle clicked and the car was full. I hung up the nozzle and fumbled with the cap. I looked him up and down again for good measure and I could already feel him moving inside me. The heat of him pushing into me and his strong hands at my neck and breasts. I watched his hands as he pumped gas. Big hands, you know what they say about big hands.

He finished pumping gas and somehow I finished pumping hormones long enough to get a decent grip on my libido. Walking towards him I held his eyes and licked my lips.

"Kathy"

"What love?"

"My name. Kathy."

"Tim..."

He smiled huge. I can't think of a better word - it just seemed huge. He held out his hand in introduction.

I stepped inside his hand and put one of my own on his neck and the other on his crotch. Breathing up at his neck I rubbed and felt him harden underneath my fingers.

"Tim... you wanna get to know me better?"

I don't know who was more shocked; he, recoiling like some mad woman had just grabbed him by the crotch, or me, that my smooth as a broken glass sandwich approach had let me down for the first time ever.

"Whoa lady, I was just being friendly you know, look I got a wife and two little girls, I aint throwin that away for some slut at a servo. Jesus..." He ran a hand through his hair and searched for words and I just fell apart in a whole bunch of ways. His frightened face and sincerity, the way he looked at me like I was some crazy crack whore. I don't know exactly what happened but something just went 'click' inside me. Horny to angry rejected bitch in 2.4 seconds. Hello trouble.

I stared him down and straightening myself I walked straight past him into the roadhouse.

"Slut? Slut? Fuck you arsehole. Wife and kids get fucked. Who are you anyway? Prince fucken charming. Tight arse poof."

I stood at the cashier and held out my card glaring at the idiot in the driveway who just turned down no strings middle of nowhere sex with me. I know I'm not Elle McPherson but I'd be the best fucken thing touched his dick since the nurse who circumcised him. Seething, I hardly even heard the young bloke at the counter speak.

"Pump?"

"What?"

"Which pump you at?"

"How many fucken customers you got?"

"Two. You and that guy out there, guessing you got the petrol and he got the diesel."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Anything else?"

"What? Sorry, look, I need two packs of winny blue and I'll probably grab something to eat. Just put the fuel through now and I'll get some more stuff in a tick. You got toilets?"

"Yeah, here."

He handed me half a house brick with a chain attached and a single silver key attached to the chain.

"Just round the side there." He points out a sliding door and hands my card back.

Sitting there pissing I wait for the anger to leave me. It doesn't. Who was he calling a slut? Unbelievable. I've done better than him with just a fucken smile and a wink. Slut! And strangely while I dab with crinkle cut stainless steel service station toilet paper I find I am still horny. If anything- more so.

I stand and flush and pick my knickers up off the floor. I look at them - they are pink except for a dark wet stain and feeling a strange mix of angry, vengeful and deliciously dirty, I throw them in the bowl and walk out carrying my half a brick and insulted pride.

Drifting among the displays of magazines and toiletries, I pick things up randomly. I watch him sitting there. He's eating chips and a toasted sandwich looking like it never happened. Smug. I see other people to; a little man in a suit reading a book, a couple of truckies and a table where five tired looking blokes are gathered eating and talking shit - probably miners on their way north.

I could have any man in this place and he turned me down. He's just a tired looking roo shooter. His hair looks greasy and I wonder if he smells. I'm hungry. Figures, I haven't eaten for a couple of days. I look in the hotbox at things that all look the same but fried and then the young bloke at the counter spots me.

"Here's your smokes, you decide what you want?"

"Yes I did... I'd like a six pack of beer, don't tell me you don't sell 'em, I know you do, and I'd like one of those spring rolls thanks."

He gets my order, "You want some ice in the bag?"

"Yeah please, and then I'd like an opinion."

"Ok, you got it, hang on."

He hands me a plastic shopping bag with ice and beer in it and white paper bag containing the spring roll. He looks at me funny, like I'm the only thing that's happened in this place for weeks and takes my card. When he returns he says, "you wanted an opinion?"

I look him in the eyes and ask, "Would you fuck me?"

He baulks at that. I notice then that he's probably only nineteen or so and it all sort of hits me as a bit absurd. To his credit he manages to get a few words together.

"Look, um, you're nice, you look nice, I, umm"

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok, are you ok, you're pretty and that, I just - are you sure you're ok? You just bust up with some idiot or something?"

That was enough for me. He was such a sweet kid I took the bunch of plastic numbers off the counter and handed him a number 1. I walk over to the miners at the table next to roo boy. They stop talking and one or two smile at me.

"How you goin' love?"

"You want to play a little game?"

"Fuck yeah lady, what you got in mind?"

"Whats your lucky number?"

"Three! What do I win?"

"This plastic number three, you lucky bugga." And winking, I hand him the number three and drop a few more numbers on the table. They laugh a little as I turn away but I can tell they are watching me while they talk shit and offer to be my 'number 69'.

The truckies are gone but the little fella in the suit is still reading his book so I ask him if he wants a number. He just looks at me for a moment then puts his book in a bag and leaves.

Roo boy is eating still, hardly even lifted his head since I came inside. I sit opposite him. The silence grows until he has to look at me. The miners have gone quiet. I know they are looking at me too.

He can't keep the silence going. "Look, I'm sorry I called you a slut. You just took me by surprise."

"It's ok." I say and take one of his chips and lick the gravy from it, "The one you knock back is the one you never get."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings if that's it, you're a bit of a spunk, I just..."

"Fuck you, cunt!" I scream.

Silence grabs the room by the throat.

"Fuck you."

I stand and lean over the table towards him, cold air on my knickerless butt. I can feel the eyes of the miners behind me and just in case they think it's an accident, I arch my back to make sure my skirt is riding high on my arse and curl one hand back to lift my skirt quite clear.

"What are you? Fucken queer you bastard. I ask you for a root and you knock me back?"

He picks up a chip and dips it in his gravy not wanting to buy in.

"Well? You get it handed to you and you knock it back - are you mad or some sort of fag?"

To make the point I move the hand behind me down and poke it rudely in myself, then smear the wetness round. I'm having fun and fuck the world. A collective groan and a shuffle of plastic chairs as the numbers make half sense to the miners, tells me that they are watching more attentively now. One of them reaches out and runs his hand over my bare arse. I push back on his hand and feel another hand rub my clit.

"Look, like I said, no offence."

I laugh in his face and continue. "You wouldn't know what to do with a slut if you fucken tripped and accidently stuck your dick in her."

Looking over my shoulder at the ugly man who is working his fingers in and out of me I ask, "Well, are you going to just sit there or show him?"

I bend forward again and hold his eyes, stealing a chip from his plate when the first of the men grabs me from behind and starts fucking me right there at his table. I don't know if they got the order right from the plastic numbers but one after the other they ride me like a train while I pick up chips from roo boys plate and eat them.

The table bumps and shoves as they drive me from behind. I have no idea or interest even in which one is putting his dick in me. One of them has a big fat dick and I feel it stretch me open. I'm thankful for the first mans sperm in me to lubricate that fat fuckstick. A grotty looking man, short and fat and smelling of sweat moves to stand beside me and waves a half limp dick in my face. He slaps me on the cheek with it and I suck it in my mouth. I gag a little from the cheesy taste of it and he mumbles, 'Fuck yeah' thinking he's hit the back of my throat. I almost laugh on his little hairy cock.

I think it was around the time that grotty spurted in my mouth and I spat it on Roo-boys chips, that he got up and left. I can't be sure. I'm bucking and shaking myself now. Coming over and over again as they shuffle around behind me, taking turns and turns again. One man turns me over, laying me on the table next to the plate of greasy chips and grabs some napkins from the table and wipes sweat and spoof off my legs and cunt before plowing his pecker into me. I can see their faces now and notice they don't even look at my eyes while they mill around and fuck me. I'm holding one mans cock and jerking it while another fucks my mouth.

It goes on forever it seems. I'm battered and pounded from all directions. My blouse is now a fuck rag for wiping come away. My sore nipples poke out from under it; my tits red from slapping and squeezing.

"Hurry up fuckwit," One man says punching the bloke who is fucking me in the shoulder. "We gotta get on the road."

"Hang on..." He thrusts a few more times then pulls out to wank himself, laughing as he splashes on my face and hair. "There ya go bitch." He wipes his cock on my skirt and tucks it away. Zipping up and fucking off with the rest of them leaving me heaving and panting on the table. I try to stand but can't trust my legs. I sit instead and finish Roo-boys coke.

----

My legs are still shaking with orgasm overload. Standing at my car, sticky legged and feeling like I am inside out the cashier hands me my bag of beer and the now cold spring roll. I remember feeling pretty damn happy with myself in a gorgeously filthy kind of way.

When the men had finished with me, high fiving each other and laughing as they walked off he had come over and helped me up and out to my car. Such a sweet boy.

My door opened and I kneeled on the seat to put the beer on the passenger side.

"I still have a number."

"Sorry what?"

"My number, do I still get a turn?"

"Look, I..." and I felt him grab my arse and lift my skirt. I heard him spit. "Look, it's over now, I'm wrecked, I need to go."

"There's cameras in there." He says and I feel his erection push at me.

"I said, no more mate, It's over."

"I heard you." He grabs me roughly by the hips and pulls me back towards him. I grab the handbrake and try to pull away but I've got no strength left and I cry out in pain as he nails into my arse, the only part of me the other men left alone. He pumps a few times and pulls out.

"Thank God," I think wanting to leave this place and my actions behind me. He zips up and walks away and I wonder if it's possible to be gangbanged and raped within moments of each other. "Fuck it all, let's blow this popsicle stand."

I roll a joint and smiling, I pull out into the dark black night.

----

The joint is finished and I flick it out the window. Warm 'who gives a fuck' fills me and the shaking in my legs subsides a little. It's close to morning now and I can see a faint red glow growing as I drive east.

The lights came from out of nowhere. One moment it's just me and a mix of denial and self-loathing and the next there are two bright lights sitting right on my tail.

I can't see what sort of vehicle it is for the glare of its lights but it hunts closer then backs off then comes close again. Its beeping its horn now and that shake in my legs is back. I slow and move left to let it past and it slows behind me. My breathing is coming quicker now. I'm doing a hundred and forty and he's just centimeters off of me. I'm sure my car can go faster than this but I don't know if I can.

I plant my foot and try to go faster but just as I start putting some distance between us I start slowing down. The commodore splutters. I look at the instruments and don't understand. Empty? He's about twenty meters behind me now, lights on high beam horn blaring. My foot is to the floor but I'm only doing 80. 'Crunch'. The car lurches, it's tyres make a squealing noise. I can't hear it but I know I'm screaming.

He draws alongside and through the tears I recognize the roo shooters ute. No roos now though, and then it swings towards my door. I hit the brakes and hold my foot flat down as hard as I can push. He shoots off down the road in front of me. Then all the world starts spinning.

The back of my car goes where the front should be and the wheel is useless in my hands. I can't point the car anymore. I mash the brake pedal and wait for the end. I wonder if I'll die.