Taking Control in the Park Ch. 02

For me, it was a new idea and led to strange possibilities. Was it possible that I didn't know myself as well as I thought. Was it possible that I might be drawn to this deviant expression of sex. Was the dream brought on by my experience in the park.

There was also another question which I was inexplicably reluctant to examine. Why was that woman in my dream.

A nagging thought appeared. Was a key stuck in a door which I had only to turn and see what was inside. Many had walked through such a doorway leading to a world of strange ways of expressing their sexual energies. I had never conceived of such doors. The idea ate at me and wouldn't let go.

* * * * *

What does a stranger in a strange land do? They can hide or they can explore. It seems I could not hide. There were some things I started to do which were not a part of my daily routine before. One was run at night, another was read erotic stories and the other - it embarrasses me to admit - was masturbate.

It started with the stories. While doing my 'research' I began to find and consume a variety of short stories of erotic fiction. The stories that depicted violence and control were the ones that I immediately gravitated to. In particular, I was fascinated by those stories that could draw out the thoughts and emotions of the characters involved. This brief but intense introduction to the depictions of violent encounters was to have an effect.

I knew that I could not stand the prospect of no running at all, and I detested the idea of running on a treadmill. There were other options I could have attempted to explore but somehow did not. One night I felt particularly restless. My apartment was feeling increasingly confining. I was pacing about and felt like I was reaching some sort of breaking point. An angry voice in my head shouted to just shut off my paranoid fantasies and hit the road. If I just changed my route, that should be enough.

So, I found myself out on strange streets quite late. It didn't take too long before I began to return to that floating sensation of weightlessness and a touch of euphoria as the endorphins kicked in. God, I had missed that.

I was running without any concentration on where I was going. It was just like driving a car over a familiar distance of road. You head to a destination but all your decisions are on a peculiar autopilot. You can scarcely remember how you arrived once your destination has been reached. So it was that my body carried me to the park.

When I was about to enter the gates of the park, I suddenly realized where I was. The atmosphere of the place was greatly changed for me. Where I normally saw beauty and felt a vague joyful appreciation of the landscape, I now saw hidden dangers lurking in every shadow and behind every turn.

I easily imagined this must be what the prey feels like when it senses the predator is near. A screaming call to the awareness of your senses. I began to pick up speed more and more. By the time I was half way through the park I was at the physical limits of my ability.

I made record-breaking time on my run that night. When I got home, I had never felt so tired. I had dumped a good deal of adrenaline and my body was now crashing. I needed my bed. I showered quickly and threw myself on the bed with the hope I should go right to sleep. But I did not.

In my exhausted state, I closed my eyes and lay blissfully still as my muscles and nerve ending seemed to quiver and vibrate. The black expanse of my mind's eye was circling back to the park to relive the experience of my run. It let me see myself the way the predator would see me; alone, vulnerable, afraid, and on the run. My own private movie had another character. A shadowy figure appeared behind me and began to chase.

I began to touch myself. Using my fingers, I began with a slow and delicate touch.

I could see the dark images of the predator in chase, and the prey turning back and crying out with a desperate and involuntary shriek.

I began to move my fingers a little deeper.

The predator in no time at all closed the distance and grabbed me by the arm. I swung violently with my elbow and pulled with all my strength to break the hold. The man held fast and grabbed the other arm. I saw my body twisted sideways and then flipped to ground with ease. The man's body fell on top of me all the while holding my arms behind me.

I began to pick up speed with my fingers.

There was a wild thrashing and twisting of bodies as the prey gave one last desperate attempt to get out of the iron grip. I saw the man raise me and slam me back into the ground. He pulled one arm fully behind my back and caused me to cry out in pain. And then a voice of pure malice in my ear. "Do what you are told or you will regret it."

The voice made me come.

Was it wrong to be so aroused by such things? I was truly conflicted. But there was no denying my rituals were shifting. Running at night followed by some increasingly dark fantasies of pursuit and submission were the new norm.

My meditations now were rather narrow in focus, and headed to the increasingly familiar destination of climax. In the daylight, I was annoyed by this change and felt guilty about it. I should shake it off like ill-fitting clothes I thought. But by the night time, I was like a junkie ready for another fix.

It is well understood that junkies do stupid things once they get hooked. I was about to find out how well I fit the stereotype of the self-medicating. After many nights of running on a slightly amended route, (I never went past the window of the would-be stalker anymore) I had the closest encounter yet with the mystery man.

I was running down a street late at night towards a main intersection that I needed to cross on my way to the park. As I rounded the corner to head towards a cross-walk, a man's body appeared right in my path and I nearly crashed straight into it. Only the quickest of side-steps allowed me to get past but not without actually clipping the shoulder of the man. The impact cause him to spin sideways a little and it turned me sideways somewhat as well.

I saw the man I had been avoiding looking right at me. I couldn't help laughing at his expression although I would be hard pressed to explain why. There was definitely a flash or recognition on his face but not a word was exchanged. I straightened myself and continued running.

As I continued to run, I was replaying that brief encounter on a loop in my mind. What could he be thinking now, I puzzled. Something in that expression was speaking to me. What was it saying? For the first time in many days I had let his face be the emblem of my musings.

Later that night I got in my bed and found the black curtain behind my eyelids and waited for the private movie that might be projected upon it. I had a mental image of the man's face side by side with the shadowy figure of my first dark fantasy. Then I watched them slide into each other and the man's face was projected onto the head my sexual phantom. It made me shiver. I was close to saying that word that I dared not utter. Such was my premonition of things that might come to pass.

* * * * *

When other people have a fateful night, a life altering event that can never be undone, do they sometimes sense its arrival? Are there subtle premonitions, instinctual tinglings, a most distant and remote beacon from a lighthouse of undefined senses? In hindsight, I think I had something of its kind.

The very next day after my near head-on collision I was jittery, and restless. I was scattered in my thoughts and seemed incapable of focusing my concentration on even simple tasks.

Early in the day I was forming the thought that I should stay home on the coming evening. By the afternoon, I was telling myself that I was definitely not going to go out that night. It was not on the agenda. No way. But, in spite of this, when the night came I was absent-mindedness putting out my running clothes.

"What are those doing there?" I asked myself. "It's not like you are going anywhere."

And then, my shoes were taken out and set by the front door. "What is the point of that?" I reproached myself.

Soon, I was kneeling and tying a shoe. "You can all get dressed up but there is no place to go," I chided.

Then I was on the move.

The fucking junkie needed a fix and was like a child - no logic would penetrate. There was a full blown argument going on in my head as two voice went back and forth about why I should or should not be going to park, and a third party seemed to be listening impassively to the exchange but rendering no verdict.

In past nights my adrenaline would start to kick in when I entered the park and subside once I was near the exit. I had been getting off on this response. On this night, the nervous energy began far sooner and was reaching new levels before I even entered the park. By the time I crossed through the gate, I felt like a nervous wreck.

I went down the gentle winding path and recognized a new and ominous sign. It was darker than normal on this path. All the voices in my head ceased argument and seemed suddenly in agreement. "Turn back!" they said in unison. Before I could take my cue on this direction, there was an explosion of white light and a cartoon-like cascade of stars. Time edited out a couple beats from the bar.

First there was a dull throbbing all over my torso and a ringing in my ears. Then there was the sensation of moving horizontally but I couldn't place the origins of these feelings. I opened my eyes all of a sudden but had trouble focusing. The sky and trees seemed to be moving. And then it clicked as if the alarm clock had sounded.

I couldn't breath and I was terrified. I knew exactly what was happening. And although I couldn't see clearly, I knew who was responsible. This was no dream, and unlike any of the strange fantasies I may have entertained, I was absolutely sure I did not want this. I wanted to cry out but was still gasping for air. I was crying out "no" repeatedly but could hardly say the words.

I tried to dig my hands into the ground, desperate to find a hold to stop him from moving me to wherever we were headed. He dragged me under a tree, and I felt ready to fight to death in that moment.

I remember kicking and scratching and desperately trying to roll over and crawl out from under the tree. For the briefest of moments I thought I might succeed. But the man was too strong, and very determined. I screamed for my very life as the hopelessness of the situation settled upon me.

In the next moments, I had the most terrible instance of deja vu. I was being held down and a blade was presented to my face. The recognition scrambled my nerves and I felt as though the ground had opened up and would swallow me. A more sickening sense of vertigo I could not imagine.

I have heard it said that victims of trauma when they go into shock can go deep into themselves and lose their senses. It is said to be a defense mechanism. I now understand what they mean. For a few minutes, my mind and body parted company. Time was changing tempo from andante to grave. My mind was closed in on itself in a tight little ball that would not look out. Something was going on out there with my body but for the time being that was not my problem.

I know what he did but I really can't say that I remember much. I know only how it ended. I was aware that he was coming inside me and perhaps this signaled an ending to something in my brain.

As if a light switch had been flicked, my eyes opened and I looked straight into the face I had expected to see. Rape, rape, rape rape rape. The word was now spilling out now in my head. He then spoke to me words I can never forget. He said, "I chose you and only you. I will let you go and I will not look for you again."

With no small sense of irony I thought, "me too."

I remember he pointed to a bag and said it was for me. Then he started to leave. And then I spoke. It was a strange impulse and I cant say that it was very smart, but I was still a little dazed I think.

"I know who you are" I said. In that moment it felt like I was brandishing a knife of my own.

He stopped with his back to me and there was a very pregnant pause. I was not afraid, but I think he was. He finally said something about maybe seeing each other again, and he ran away. All I could think was "Not if I can help it."

I badly wanted to get dressed as soon as possible. But my clothes were nowhere to be seen. I turned to the bag that was left and found that it contained some clothes. This was no small relief and I gratefully put them on.

In the very bottom of the bag I discovered there was an envelope that contained some money. "What the.." I screwed up my face. I held the cash for a moment peering at it as if it was a piece of technology that had no function. With disgust, I dropped it on the ground like it was something contaminated and toxic.

"Let's just get out of here" I said to myself. I began to push my way through the branches and walked gingerly to the path. As I made my way out, I was a little dizzy and even swaying slightly. I didn't realize it then, but I was probably concussed.

I just remember looking out and seeing a massive orange-red glow and giant plumes of blackness pouring across sky. I began to cough as my lungs found the overwhelming taste of smoke. I could hear the roar and crackle of flames. Not only that, but lots of other sounds too. Sirens, and screaming, and people in the streets running around shouting.

I really started to wonder "Is this real?" It seemed like yet another apocalypse as the backdrop to yet another sexual assault. "Haven't I seen this type of movie before?" I muttered. I was no longer was sure of anything.

If my brain was a little paralyzed just then, my body seemed to have a plan. My feet started moving. I didn't know why and I didn't care. After a few second I was running. I felt calmed. This was familiar. It was like the old days of running. Free floating disconnected thought of nothing in particular as my body transported me to a destination that it knew. It would get me home.