For my bestie, Simone.

I heard them before I saw them.

I could hear him groaning, and the sound of his pubis slapping hard against her backside. And his words "Don't you...fucking...move...", over and over. Whispered like a threat. Hissed, like a puncture.

Puncture.

And as the truck came around the corner to load out the show, I saw them too, for a split second.

He had her on all fours, him behind her. He had one hand in her hair, pulling her head backwards, and to the left hand side. His other hand held them steady, gripping the steel stairs. Her eyes were looking somewhere other than at the world we were in, only her body was there. She was dribbling all over her left hand, her face right on top of it. He was fucking her ass. She was deflated.

They were under the back stairs to the bar.

He was on his feet now, running for the gap between me and the truck, and his eyes were wide. She lay collapsed on the concrete, unmoving. He had flown past me while my mind tried to catch up with what was happening, when Otie knocked him on his back with a wheeled roadcase to the knees.

"Did you see that shit?" he asked me, pointing at 'him'.
"Um, what?" I say.
"Did you SEE that SHIT?" he said, emphasising the good bits, sitting on 'his' chest, one fist poised for a knockout.
"Yeah man..." I said, walking towards her "...fast thinking. Good work."

I shrugged my way out of my hoodie, and lay it over her, it covered her from her neck to her knees.

"Hey..." I said quietly. "You don't have to say anything, you don't have to move if you don't want. We're gonna call the cops and an ambulance. You're safe now."

I checked her pulse, because I thought she was dead.

She wasn't, but she wasn't moving either. She blinked, and I hit my head on the stairs in a fright.

"Otie, get on the radio and tell the tour manager the deal. Get him to get the filth and an ambulance down here." I was seeing stars.
"But I'm sitting on this guy..." Otie says.
"Well, knock his ass out, then go do it."
"Roger that."
Otie says with a smile "I have to 'accidentally' knock you out, bro."
And he swings his boot hard into the bottom of the guys jaw, snapping his head back, and removing a wad of gaffer tape neither of us knew was there.

I was so scared for her.

I stroked her hair, and moved it out of her eyes. She was like a fish, just cold and staring. I couldn't see how she was breathing, she was so quiet. Blood was soaking up through my hoodie.

"You must be freezing." I said, but I felt like I was talking to myself.

After a minute, the tour manager came running down the stairs, as Otie re-emerged from the truck.
"What the fuck is this?" ...he shouted it.

"Tim, lower your voice man, this girl is in a bad way. Did you make the calls?"
"Shit, sorry." he whispered. "Yeah, they're on their way. God, is she alive?"
"Yeah, but she's cold, Otie, can you grab a packing blanket? We can wrap her up in it."
"Aren't you going to disturb the evidence?" Tim said.
"We both saw it happen man, and Otie got the guy. He's right there" I said, pointing at the guy, tapped out, bleeding from his mouth. This case is closed."
"Fuck me!" said Tim. He clearly hadn't noticed the guy on his rush down the stairs. he poked at him with his shoe.
"Is HE dead?" he asked?
"Nope" said Otie, "Just sleeping."
"Oh." said Tim, shaking his head, not actually knowing what Otie meant, not really caring either.

Otie brought the blanket, a huge, thick, soft, and itchy thing we use to wedge between roadcases, and laid it over her. Then we rolled her onto her back, covering her as we moved.

The three of us spent the next five minutes with her. Holding her hand, stroking her hair, gently talking, and trying to elicit a response from her. "You're going to be fine."

None came.

But the ambulance did, and the police did. And they put her in the back of the ambulance, and the police took our statements, and they revived the guy, and took them both away in opposite directions.

We loaded out the show, and drove 300 kilometres to the next town, for the next date on the tour.

That was December.

For the next month, she was all i could think about. i didn't know her name, I knew nothing, except what we had seen. As soon as it ended in Mooloolabah, I caught the first bus back down the coast, and told the band I'd catch them back in Melbourne. It wasn't like me to give up a plane ride home. But they had a good idea where i was going.

Queensland gave way to New South Wales, and I got there at lunchtime.

I went straight to the cop shop, and tried to make enquiries as to what had happened after we left. How she was doing.

The cops at reception were no help. Totally arrogant, with no reason. They said "Why do you want to know about her for? She's trash." I was stunned. "How could you say that?" I asked. "She's a dog, mate. She probably asked him to do her, then changed her mind. She's fucked in the head." I didn't realise I would, but my voice got louder and louder until i realised I was leaning across the counter and shouting at these cops, spit flying everywhere.

They're telling me to "Calm down mate", and I'm telling them "You're the worst kind of filth...what's your fucking problem?! Why can't you just tell me if she's okay, without acting like she's a FUCKING CRIMINAL?! She was RAPED for Christ's sake! Who the fuck are you to judge her?!"

I'm pointing my finger, and I'm not sure whether I'm about to jump the counter and kill them or not. I think I might. Yeah, I'm definitely going to.

The door behind the counter opens, and i recognise the face. He's older, nothing to prove, and weary. He raises the counter and walks to my side, puts a hand on my shoulder, and gently says "Let's go out the back son, we can get some privacy out there."

"Thanks." I say through gritted teeth. I'm shaking. I want to bite.

"Do you remember me?" he asked, walking past desks, into the lunchroom.
"Yeah, you took my statement." I replied. I wanted to cry now, I was so fucking confused.
"That's it." he said. "I'm Bruce..." he said. "...I'm the Sergeant here." he pulled out a chair for me.
"D'you want a cuppa?" he asks.
"Nah, I'm right."
"No worries."

He had kind eyes, and they confused the Hell out of me.
I hate cops, but Bruce was so fatherly and patient. It upset me even more.

"I'm sorry, for before...it's not my usual style." I apologised.
"Hey, don't you worry about that son..." Bruce said, "...I'll be giving those two a dressing down later myself, believe you me."
He leaned back in his chair and breathed out deeply. i sensed bad news.

"I can't tell you her name" he started, "But I can tell you she's OK. At least, as Ok as she ever was."
"She was taken to the hospital, and after a night in there, she snapped back to it."
"She talked?" I asked.
"No. Not a word. But she doesn't speak to anyone. Anyone she doesn't know anyway. I've been aware of her for about four years. She lives on the street. But she got up and left, and from what I've seen, it's life as usual."

"So...I mean...where does she stay?" I asked.
"You'll find her down at the main beach, near the surf club" he said. "But don't expect her to talk to you. She's carrying a lot of weight, that one. I would tell you not to contact her, but I know you will anyway. i can see it all over your face. Have you slept since I saw you last?"
"Not really" I answered.
"Yup, I thought as much."

He stood, and I suddenly realised Bruce was over seven feet tall.
"You take care son..." he said, hand on my shoulder again.
"This is my number, use it if you need it."
"Will do..." I said, then stopped.
"Thanks Sarge, I..."
I stopped again.
He smiled at me, showing all the lines of his face, but none of the pain that caused them.
"No worries at all."
He squeezed my shoulder, and opened the back door.
"No worries at all."

I hired a room at The Fishermans Hotel, and dumped my bag into it.
I splashed water on my face, and changed clothes.
And I practically ran out the door.

I was on the beach, walking on the sand, a minute later.
Past British backpackers, people doing yoga and Tai Chi, swimmers and families and hippies.

And there she was.

She was in the shade, sitting on a backpack. Not a huge one, but it wasn't small either.
She looked out over the ocean, out East.
I was shocked to see her supporting her own weight, as odd as that is.

I walked even faster, not wanting to waste another second, burning to know for myself that she was ok, longing to be there to hear her words, or ease her pain, or...anything.

Then it suddenly struck me, that I was practically running towards a girl who only a month ago had been assaulted in a way I could never understand, and I stopped dead.

"What the fuck are you going to say?" I asked myself.
I had no answer.

I was ten metres away from her now, she hadn't moved.

"Fuck it" I thought, and walked over.

I half crouched, leaning to the left, hands together, like a penitent monk, or a scheming chaimberlain, walking slowly through her stage right.

She still didn't move. At least she didn't seem spooked.

When I was eight feet away I said, in the quietest voice I own "Hello."

Nothing.

I was next to her now, just in front of her, and I kneeled in the sand.

"Do you remember me?" i asked, eyes searching for a flicker from hers.

More nothing.

"I'm so glad you're ok..." I started, then realised hat a stupid thing that was to say.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Of course you're not ok. I just meant...that..."

Nothing. From either of us.

I traced her line of vision, and looked out to where she stared.

And sighed.

We both looked out to sea for a minute, and I broke the silence.

"Please don't be frightened. I know this might sound weird, but I swear it isn't. i've just come a long way to see you, and I've been thinking about you all month, and...well...if it's ok, I'd just like to sit with you for a while. If I bother you, or if you're uncomfortable, or anything, just tell me, and I'll go. I just really want to hang out with you, if it's ok."

More of the nothing. But this time i was relieved.

So we sat, and watched the sea, and said nothing, and after about six hours of this, the sun went down.

I was worried. i didn't want to go, but I didn't want to stay there in the dark, in case I scared her. She had moved around a bit since i had arrived, letting her blood flow to crampy legs, or stretching her back. But had still remained silent.

And she hadn't looked at me at all.

"It's getting dark. I don't even know if you're suddenly going to get up and leave, or...what? This is really hard to get my head around, I can't imagine what it must be like for you. Maybe you don't want to think about that. Of course you don't. Maybe I should...I don't know." I was lost.

"Tell me a story." she said, and I had to stare through the coming dark, to focus, just to make absolutely sure she had said it.

"A story?" I asked, but she said nothing more.

"OK, a story for you."

I leaned back in the sand, hands behind my head, and I looked at the stars for a minute, then down to the white of the breaking waves. And I began...

"Millions of years ago, when whales walked on land, horses were the size of cats. They lived in the forest, and hid in the undergrowth, hid from the birds, that were six feet tall, and couldn't yet fly. They were timid little things, these horses. And they could never go out into the open, where the birds would hunt them. So for miliions of years, the horses evolved in hiding, and the birds became smaller and smaller, and grew wings, and learned to fly, and the whales went to live in the ocean. Until the horses were big enough, and the birds grew small enough, that the horses could finally come out onto the plains, and run and run and run. And that's why horses to this day, love to run, and will run themselves lame if you ask them to. because for millions of years, they never, ever could. That's the worlds shittest story, but there it is., and it's all true."

"Good things come to those who wait..." she whispered, and she turned her head, and she looked at me.

I smiled with my eyes, and I said "I hope so. I really hope so."

"Because I'm through running." she said, reaching for me.

And I took her hand, and wrapped her up in my arms. And we held each other til morning, held each other in total silence.

And we slept right there on the beach, until we were woken by birds, and horses, and whales.

"Maybe it's time to evolve?" she asked, through sleepy eyes, her lips against my neck.
"Maybe..." I said to her head on my chest. "...we need to grow bigger, and run where we want."

"Or maybe..." she replied, "It's time to grow wings of our own?"
"Or we could live underwater." I said.

"Have you ever been to Melbourne?" I asked.
"Is that where we're going today?" she replied.

"Yes, it is. That's where we're going." I was smiling.

"Well, let me grab my things", she said, and picked up her backpack.
"I'm ready!"

I took her pack, and put it on my back, took her hand, and exhaled.

"I'm ready too."




This is knifey, from 'the internet'.