This was a project for my grade 12 Literature class. We had to take any story we could concieve and set it in the 1700's. The story I wrote almost got me suspended from school, but I did manage an A and an easy pass.

Please be aware that this is a very tragic and in one place violent story, and contains homosexuality in two of the characters, one of which is the main character, and puts religion in a bad light with another character. If any of these offend you, and you still decide to read it, remember this disclaimer.

This story contains violence, mature themes and other things that may be percieved as offensive, such as Homosexuality and religion put in a negetive light.

You have been warned. If you are ok with this, then please enjoy the story I worked hard on it.

“Don’t Look At Me”

By Mitchell Connolly

It would have been bright out tonight, had the sky not been so choked with rain. It had subsided, for the moment, but the thick clouds rolled and broke menacingly, like a tide of mud, keeping the tiny people underneath ready to raise their umbrellas. Because of this, it was very dark, and Gabrielle had trouble making out the alley that she was about to enter.

Behind her, the chak chak of horses burdened with carriage faded in and out as they passed. A man with a long pole walked by, smiling to her as he used the pole to open and light a lantern that had somehow gone out during the course of the night. Holding her breath, she walked into the darkness.

Her skin prickled as she trusted herself to the shadows. When she reached their centre, she waited. It had been only a few minutes before she started to doubt. Maybe she wouldn’t show…

She felt a strong, but slender arm circle her from behind, the cold intrusion of a knife tip being held to the nape of her back. Her breath caught in her throat and her body tensed, feeling her chest heave. Soft lips brushed against her ear, whispering to her.

“Are you alone?” the woman said, smiling evilly as she held the girl tight against her, stroking her gently with the tiny blade, making her back arch instinctively.

Her captors strong, nimble fingers found their way to her waist line and danced over her flat stomach, causing her to stifle a giggle which came out as a constricted whimper of pleasure. Gabrielle’s nostrils were filled with the now familiar scent of mould and soup.

Gabrielle should have wanted to scream, even though the knife would have kept her quiet. She should have been afraid of the mugging and possible rape that would follow from the person holding her. But she knew who it was. Who “she” was, and she would play along with her little game.

“Alone and vulnerable” she whispered back, feeling her face grow hot. She felt the knife retreat and she spun around to Katarina, throwing her arms around her as they embraced warmly.

Gabrielle was smaller then Katarina, so she would lean her head against her chest, hugging her tightly. She smiled distantly as she felt Kats fingers stroke her hair. When she looked up to her lovers face, they kissed, gently at first, then deeply, pressing into each other, feeling the warmth of each others bodies.

For several minutes the world vanished. The only thing that existed to Gabrielle was the thief girl that held her. Soon, it ended, and Katarina leant on her back against the hard wall, holding the smaller Gabrielle in her arms from behind. Gabrielle went helplessly limp and made a soft cooing noise.

She loved to be held like this, to have her lover’s arms around her and meeting on her stomach, her head rested back on her rising and falling breasts, feeling the soft kisses that would constantly find the crown of her head.

Katarina knew this. She knew all the little things she liked, and was always gentle and soothing in performing them for her. The tall street urchin always managed to make Gabrielle feel special.

Katarina asked how long she had. Gabrielle looked down.

“Scarcely more then a few hours… I must leave then. Father will awake early to rake in the peoples coins at Sunday Service” Images of her father flashed across her vision, his black robe and white collar perfect and neat, his glasses hiding his malevolent, greedy eyes. The images made her want to throw something against the wall, but it vented into tears. Gabrielle cried, and Kat drew her close. As if the gods themselves had been moved to tears, it rained.

Gabrielle winced at the loud click of the door opening. The sun would rise in an hour, and she needed to get to bed before her father awoke to take her to church. She slipped through the half opened doorway and closed it as quietly as possible. It was still dark, so she didn’t see the man standing in the hallway.

“Where have you been?” She spun to her father’s voice. Before she could speak, pain exploded in the side of her face, and the ground came rushing towards her. She lay sprawled on the wooden floor, trying to comprehend the strike her father had dealt.

“**ore!” He spat, and reached down to grab her hair, half dragging, half throwing her into the living room, where her body slammed into the cold wood. An evil looking fire had been stocked in the fireplace, the grate leaning against the wall.

Why was he doing this to her? There was only one conclusion. He knew. He knew about Katarina. He would kill her for sure.

He walked into the room with the stride of a man with all the time in the world. He straightened his white collar and kicked her, lifting her up off the ground. She coughed up blood, her throat raw from crying.

No one would hear her. No one would save her.

He walked around her, circling like a black shark, reading from a small bible and flicking holy water onto her writhing body. He spoke to her in a crazed voice.

“Repent your Sin child! Repent! Or I will mark you as Kain was marked by god, so all the world will shun you for the demon you are!” He reached down to her and grabbed her hair again, rubbing holy oil through her hair and bringing her towards the fire. She whimpered pitifully as the heat washed over her face.

“Repent child! Or meet the flames!” She screamed her defiance, struggling feebly. He thrust her in, casting her into the fire. She screamed as she felt her skin peel and curl, exposing her twitching muscles to burn in excruciating pain. She screamed and screamed until she feared her throat would collapse in on itself. She smelt a horrid smell… her own burning hair.

He pulled her out, and he skinless face was exposed to the biting cold, but she had no breath left to scream. She held her face and thrashed around, knocking over a small table. He screamed at her, lifting her up by the fires again.

“Greet the flames! They await all the wicked and sinful!”

So this is how it would end. She was going to die, all because she loved a woman. Katarina… she would never know…she would never find out why her lover had left with no goodbye. Would she find another? Would she search for her? Would she remember how deeply she loved her...?

A solitary tear traced its way down her ruined skin. She closed her eyes said nothing, even when her father violently shook her at her lack of response.

NO! She wouldn’t die like this! Not now.

She reached into the coals and grabbed a handful of hot embers. Her hand burned, but she didn’t care. She threw them at her father, and he cried out in pain, his glasses falling to the ground.

She scrambled to her feet and tried to run, but he grabbed her skirt and she feel to her knees. She turned to face him, crawling away from him on her elbows, looking for anything that might help her.

He grabbed a sooty fire stoker and advanced on her, his black loafers crunching on cooling embers. “BITCH!” he roared, ready to kill her. He fingers touched something cold and smooth, a tiny crystal bottle full of holy oil.

Blindly, she swung out with it, connecting with his head with a crisp smashing sound. He stumbled back, covered in oil and slammed into the fire place. He drenched robes ignited and he was engulfed in seconds.

Gabrielle could barely recognize the world around her as she ran out into the cold wet yard, collapsing on the grass. She dimly watched the house go up in flames, then gave in to the darkness.

When Katarina saw the hooded figure appear from the early evening mist, she rushed to meet her, unaware of what had happened. She went to embrace her, but Gabrielle drew away from her. It was then that Kat saw the curled, twisted flesh of her fingers poking out from her sleeves.

“Gab?” She whispered. “Gabby? What happened?” She made to remove the hood, but Gabrielle stiffened. Under the hood, Kat could here her gasping cries, barely audible. Slowly, Katarina made to move the concealing hood, but Gabrielle stiffened and made a small step back.

“My love… don’t look at me”

Katarina was worried at the submissive defeat in her voice. She moved for the hood once more, slowly this time, and though Gabrielle tensed at this, she reluctantly allowed Katarina to do this.

She removed the hood, revealing Gabrielle’s ruined, monstrous face, bald and burnt, a tear tracing an erratic path down her face. There was a long silence, Gabrielle looking down, waiting for Katarina to run. It never happened.

Katarina drew her close, holding her and letting her cry, tenderly kissing her forehead and telling her it would be ok. She cradled her until her sobbing lessened and she looked up at her with such a look of relieved gratitude for her lover.

The tall, black haired woman, so stunning and pretty, tenderly kissed Gabrielle’s lips with no sign of revulsion evident on her face or in her eyes, which never left Gabrielle’s.

“Come on my love. Lets get you to my place, and we’ll see what we can do about these burns”

Before she could respond, she was swept up in the street urchins arms, and Katarina carried her through the mist toward her tiny home in the next street, paying no mind to the few people on the streets that watched with disapproving eyes.

Gabrielle didn’t care about them. She may have been scarred for life, but she was free now. There was no fear, no secrecy, and no shame… just them. She curled up in Katarina’s arms and nuzzled her nose into her long black hair, falling asleep before they had reached the other end of the road.

The End