Mari

Mari

By I. M. Telling

Copyright I. M. Telling 2012

Published by Late Night Publishing

Publishing at Smashwords

All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, photocopying, offset, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewers who may quote brief passages to be printed in a magazine or newspaper.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances of characters to actual Persons living or dead are purely coincidental. The author, I. M. Telling holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

This material is intended for mature audiences only.

Warning: this story contains graphic descriptions of violent sexual content against women including rape and sodomy as well as racial slurs.

Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older.

Preface

The reader should be advised that this story contains many depictions of racial intolerance and hatred. Included within these pages are numerous instances of violence, forced rape, and racial epithets. However, that is not what this book seeks to present.

Mari is presented as a woman who, when forced to take actions to free herself and others, does what is necessary to end the hell she finds herself in. She does what she must do, without regards to her own safety and despite the damage that will be done to her own soul.

I hope you will find her courage inspiring.

I M Telling

Waking up

Marilyn awoke.

She tried to speak but her mouth was dry and it strained her throat to talk. Lying flat on her back, she tried to lift her head and immediately gave up. It hurt to move. She was startled and confused by her surroundings. She became frightened.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw that she was in a room with four other beds. There were no windows. A wooden stairway led upwards. She could make out a door atop the stairs and it was closed.

Mari, as her friends and family called her, did not understand why she was here or how she came to be here although slowly her memories would return. She did not have any idea how long she had been asleep.

What is this place, she thought. Why am I here?

She felt sick. Her head ached with a severe throbbing coming from her forehead. She saw that her bed was similar to the other four in the room, metal frames with only a thin mattress atop each. None of them had bed linens or pillows, including the one she had been lying on. Even in the dim light, she could see how filthy and stained the mattress was. It reeked of sweat and urine.

She discerned a large porcelain sink with a toilet nearby on the far side of the room. Water, she thought, I need water. She was severely dehydrated.

Bracing herself with her hands on the metal bed frame, she rose to her feet and started to walk towards the sink. She desperately needed to quench her thirst but she had to sit back down again quickly. She was sure that if she had not, she would have fallen to the floor.

She heard a sound in a dark corner of the room as she eased back onto the bed. She did not see what had made the noise. It sounded like it may have been a rat, scurrying away to safety when it heard her stirrings.

She remembered grandfather telling her about an epidemic that had been traced to an outbreak of rodents in the Rift Valley back in the thirties. As a child, she had been traumatized by her grandfather’s story. He had told her about plague and its symptoms. She had developed an intense fear and hatred of rats that remains with her still.

Mari began to remember other things as her mind started to clear. Thinking of her grandfather reminded her about her mother and father back in Nairobi. Her father was a veterinarian who spent most of his time working. She thought about her three brothers and her two sisters. She knew they would be worried about her.

After a few more moments, Mari felt she could stand up and she carefully made her way towards the sink. Although there was a single bulb hanging from the room’s ceiling, there was not a lot of light in the room and she had to watch as she took each step. Looking at her feet, she realized that she was not wearing any shoes.

She turned on the faucet, and reached her hands into the stream of water. It felt cold, but she was able to adjust it to a point where it felt comfortable in her hands. She splashed her face and cupped her hands to drink.

Her thirst at least temporarily quenched, she turned to look around the room. A clothes rack could be seen on one side of the room where several dresses were hanging. Looking down at her own attire, she realized that she was wearing a dress similar to the ones on the rack.

She began to fear that she might be a prisoner. The nakedness underneath her sack dress disturbed her. Who had taken off her clothes and dressed her in this, she wondered. She reached further up to touch her vagina. She was sure that had she had been violated. Dried semen, she thought. Her vagina ached, as if she had been tore and stretched savagely. Who could have done this to her, and more importantly, why had this been done?

There was something else wrong as well. She felt a burning sensation on her left buttock. It felt like sunburn. She reached back and ran her hand over the area. Her fingers discovered tiny ridges on her skin. She wanted to see what was there but as she re-examined her surroundings, there were no mirrors.

With her body fluids replenished, she began to sweat from the heat and humidity. There was no airflow in the room. She felt dirty so she pulled off the dress to wash herself. There was no soap to be found and no washcloths so she rinsed herself with her hands as well as she could.

After cleaning herself, she started to put her dress back on but it smelled. It reeked of body odor and she smelled ammonia. She wondered if perhaps she had urinated on herself while she had been asleep.

Discarding the foul garment, she walked over to the clothes rack and grabbed a clean one. She began to cry with anguish, uncertain whether her tears came from what she knew or fear of what she did not yet know.

The room was large, perhaps two hundred meters by eighty. She continued exploring her domain and finally discovered a pantry. Inside was a mixture of stale food, a couple of toothbrushes, a hairbrush but little else. Not knowing when she had last eaten, she reached for a package of crackers and began to nibble on them.

The hairbrush had a significant amount of matted hair tangled within the bristles. After picking at it for a few minutes, she tried to brush out the tangles of her own hair but had little success.

There was a nearly empty tube of toothpaste in the pantry. After choosing the least worn out toothbrush, she cleaned her teeth. The toothpaste helped eliminate the taste of what she suspected might have been vomit.

Mari took great pride in her looks and she was thankful that there were no mirrors. Back in Nairobi in twenty-eleven, Mari had been crowned Miss University. She would continue to hold the title until the twenty-twelve pageant was held. The publicity from the pageant had resulted in her being signed by a local modeling agency.

The agency had taught her a lot about the world that she would face in the future. They had taken advantage of her naivety and although she had worked some fashion shows, she was never paid for her efforts. The managing director had strongly hinted that she could go far in her field if only she was willing to put out certain kinds of effort and grant an occasional favor. Mari was not that naïve and finally quit the agency. Nevertheless, she had not lost her desire to walk down a runway or adorn the covers of top shelf fashion magazines.

She had graduated from the University of Nairobi with a bachelor’s degree in business and finance. After a brief internship for an oil company, she had taken an assignment at the Government Office but unfortunately, the contract she was working under terminated early. Money had started to become an issue for her.

She had used Facebook to network, hoping to find another job somewhere. For the most part, social networking was simply taking time out of her life. Time better spent out canvassing for work.

She had been ambivalent about leaving Kenya. Leaving her brother and sisters, her many friends from school, and of course her mom and dad would be very difficult for her. However, she took a cue from her father when he told her that he was not going to continue subsidizing her expenses.

You are a grown woman now, he had told her. You have one of the best educations our country can give you. You must learn to be self-sufficient.

She had become proficient in English by age ten and was taking night courses in German at the university. Yes, she had thought, I will be prepared to go anywhere.

However, it was America that most intrigued her. She had heard and read about Fifth and Madison Avenues in New York City. Everyone knew about Hollywood in California. She read about other big cities like Los Angeles and Chicago.

She had decided that there would be time enough for working in banks and at oil companies later on in life. She was young and pretty, talented in many ways, she was sure of that. Youth is for adventure and exploring dreams and fantasies.

Grimly, she glanced around her present surroundings. This definitely was not Times Square or Rodeo Drive. She walked up the wooden stairway and discovered that the heavy metal door at the top was locked. She yelled out for help and banged on the door with her fist. She tried throwing her weight against it but clearly; she was not going to get through that door until someone opened it. There was a small, black plastic box attached to the wall to the right of the door. There was a small red light on it. Mari assumed that the door was electronic.

Mari began to try to piece together how she had arrived in this basement. Three months earlier, she had become pen pals with a man whose Facebook name was Ronald Adams. There was very little information on his profile. He had sent her a friend request and although she did not know who he might be, she approved him.

Each day afterwards, he had posted something nice on her Facebook page. Sometimes it was just have a nice day. Other times, he would paste in a quote from someone important, followed by a comment describing what he had liked or did not like about the quotation. Mari began to enjoy coming online each day to see what new entry would be posted on her Facebook wall.

Internet access via the computer was expensive back home. However using her Smart Phone, she was able to cheaply view and read content. However, one evening, she was online with her computer and Ronald pinged her to chat on Facebook. Mari had really enjoyed that live dialogue with Ronald. The online chat led to an exchange of email addresses. Ronald and Mari began a series of at least twice daily email exchanges.

Ronald described himself as an Entertainment Entrepreneur. When Mari asked him about his work, he explained to her that his business was all about making connections. He claimed to be on speed-dial with executives in the film industry. He had stated that his career had begun when he worked as both a talent and literary agent in California. He claimed to know many people in the fashion industry. His latest interest was in the promotion of events all over the country and in fact, he was currently looking to expand worldwide by staging a series of concerts in Japan.

Ronald had impressed Mari; she initially wondered how a relatively young man had been able to accomplish so much. Ronald had posted on her Facebook page about having just turned thirty-years- old.

Somehow, in her enthusiasm about her new online friend, Mari had overlooked many facts. Virtually everything Ronald had declared about himself and subsequently added to his Facebook profile had come after Mari’s own disclosures. She had revealed to him all about her experiences and her hopes and dreams. He had used this against her trusting nature.

Mari was far from stupid, but she lacked maturity. Her parents had raised her to be accepting of people. To accept what and whom they said they were. However, her father had also cautioned her that anytime she discovered the slightest lie or fabrication, that no trust or belief was further warranted.

Surround yourself with honest and truthful people. Seek out successful people, her father had said. You will find your own success.

There had been many more things that she and Ronald had shared with each other via emails. Mari felt that she knew his personality through his writings. I am hearing his mind speak, she had concluded. I like what it says. I know this man. Mari realized now that she had allowed her judgment to be subverted by her own hopes and desires.

Mari sent Ronald an email one day that included a request. She told him that she would like to see his picture. Ronald had never placed any photos on Facebook and Mari was curious to see what he looked like. She attached one of her own graduation pictures to the email.

He wrote back to her that he would love to send her a picture and promised one before the week was over. Ronald’s email included comments on how attractive Mari was, and how impressive she had looked in her graduation gown.

He asked her for copies of some of her fashion photos and Mari eagerly sent him every one she had. She was very proud of them regardless of how things had turned out with that local modeling agency.

When Ronald finally sent his picture, it was not anything like she expected. It showed a tall,