Teaser Fiction
Reflecting on being Banged by the Gang
I often wonder if the things we think about from the past are linked to the future in some way.
Yesterday I felt able to reflect on that night in the dark — 30 years ago — when I was forcibly taken by the six men I worked with day in, day out on the trading floor.
I concluded — consent was shady rather than non-existent because even though I couldn’t have stopped them, I went along with what they demanded and took more than a little pleasure from the incident.
Then earlier today, still tainted with the memory, I signed on to Facebook as it is an easy way to check on family and friends and I saw there was a private message waiting. When I read who it was from, I momentarily became a little light-headed… Arthur Taylor, one of the six guys in the dark!
I hope you forgive me reaching out like this. I am dying. Cancer has me in its grip and I must put my affairs to right. With this in mind, I am messaging you to simply apologise for that night. I know this does not make it right but I am accepting my part of the blame that should have been laid on my shoulders at the time for going along with the other guys. Not only going along with them, but taking my own selfish pleasure too.
I was astounded when the police didn't knock on my door the following day or I wasn't fired. But looking back, I understand shouting rape was not the easiest option for a woman.
I’ve had a good life and hope you have — so far — too. I certainly took the experience forward and from then on tried to do right by every other woman in my life. And indeed, I have a wonderful wife and two daughters who adore me, so it must have worked in some way.
However, I expect some would say karma has come back to dig its teeth into my neck and suck the lifeblood from my bones.
If I receive a reply from you saying I am forgiven, then I know I will rest in peace. I don’t have any mitigating circumstances apart from being a coke addled foolish young man at the time.
I sit back in my seat and tears stream down my face. As much as I have tried over the years to put all of that evening out of my mind it sometimes snaked its way back with totally mixed feelings. I was used and abused. No doubt. It was not something I would have asked for and if I had a choice I would not have wanted it to happen. But the fact I had climaxed had left me feeling as if I shared their guilt. Receiving Arthur’s message didn’t alleviate my confusion, but it did clarify that I was totally blameless.
Without hesitation, I replied to him…
Hello Arthur. I very much appreciate your words. That night is something I find difficult to ponder on. But having reflected on the event only recently, I forgive you completely.
Who am I to condemn a dying man?
Read about the night in the dark with six guys here:
