Shohna Tor

For many years Shohna worked for a multi national company writing and producing their marketing communications material. An inveterate writer by instinct, now that she is retired she is writing the novel, A Lick of Honey, she has had bubbling away in the back of her mind for years.

For our benefit she has submitted most of her first chapter for readers and fellow writers to look at, and she would welcome your feedback please. You can e-mail your comments to her confidentially care of Dave Robson, at info@daverobsoncoaching.co.uk and I will pass them on to her. Thank you.

By Shohna Tor

Chapter 1

The sun that had blazed down all day over the peaceful forest was finally dropping towards the horizon.  It spilled around the roof of the hut, cascading through the opening that served as a window, and falling onto Yannie’s bed as she lay, propped on a pillow, quietly reading. The bright light dazzled her eyes, forcing her to abandon the faded pages of her book. She smiled at the interruption to her concentration.  She loved this time of day, when the sun crept into her room, its golden glow silhouetting the leafy edge of the roof.  She could hear the birds noisily settling down for the evening.  The breeze rustled in the bamboo thicket, and far below the roar of the waterfall reached her ears.

From the next room, Yannie could hear the reassuring clinking noises of her mother preparing the evening meal, the smell of cooking beginning to waft through the hut.

She enjoyed having time to read after the regular chores were done.  Her mother encouraged it.  They didn't have many books.  The ones they did have were mildewed, the pages yellowed round the edges, but she devoured them just the same.  They filled her mind with the images of the unfamiliar world they described.

Suddenly a scream pierced her reverie, swiftly followed by another. Jumping to her feet, she heard shouting, and coarse men's voices in a dialect she didn't recognise.  She ran to the door of the room, only to see her mother put her finger to her lips and signal for her to close the door.

Yannie's mind raced. This must be a raid. She'd heard of them happening in other villages. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what to do, and then decided quickly. Her only way of escape was to climb out of the window.  It was at the back of the hut and faced the forest, so with a bit of luck, no one would spot her.

She scrambled on to the bed, through the window, and dropping to the ground, ran in her bare feet across the scorched earth into the shade of the nearby forest. She heard a scream she recognized as her mother's behind her, and the smell of burning wood was beginning to fill her nostrils. She kept running, not daring to look back.  The cooler ground here was more comfortable on her feet as she leapt over fallen branches and tree stumps, heading for the denser parts of the forest, where she would stand a better chance of hiding.

All too soon, she heard shouting coming from behind. She had been seen. She ran on, the sounds of someone chasing getting closer. Then suddenly, she found herself flying through the air. She had tripped over a hidden root. Falling to the ground, she felt a burning sensation as her ankle twisted awkwardly. She lay there winded for a moment, before struggling to get up, but it was too late. One, then two men were beside her, pinning down her arms. She felt a pressure in the small of her back preventing her from moving. Strong hands gripped her wrists, roughly forcing them behind her back and holding them there, while something hard was fixed round them.  She struggled to free herself, shouting for her brother. The men cursed, yelling at her to keep still, again in the strange dialect. She continued to struggle, unable to free her hands but trying to scramble to her feet nonetheless. Once more she heard them curse.  This time she felt a sharp pain in her arm as they pushed something into her. She tried to pull away from it, but they held it tight against her. For a moment she was aware of a bad smell coming from the man whose reddish face and cold blue eyes seemed too close to hers. Then everything went black.

Strange clattering noises and echoing footsteps were the next things she was conscious of. She opened her eyes to find herself in a strange, large, harshly lit room containing several beds spaced well apart.

Her memory returned quickly. She remembered the flight from the hut, her mother's screams, the smell of burning wood, and the fall.

She tried to move her feet, but immediately winced with pain. Her left ankle refused to move without a lot of protest. It felt as if it was bandaged tightly but it was covered by a sheet so she couldn’t see it. Her right foot seem fine. She tried to sit up, but discovered she could hardly move her left wrist. Her right hand explored and found her wrist was attached by a cuff to a short chain. She also discovered with horror that all her clothes had been removed.

She could feel the fear rising from her stomach, her heartbeat quickened. She looked around for anyone she knew. The beds on either side of her were empty, the others too far away to attract the attention of their occupants without shouting. There was no one she recognised. Her heart thumped in her chest, her breathing was shallow.

Again she tried sitting up, this time keeping her left elbow down so she didn't pull against the chain, but she quickly felt dizzy, and a bit sick. She dropped back onto the rough pillow, at a loss to know what to do.

She'd lost track of how long she lay like that, when a white-skinned woman in strange white clothes walked up to her. The woman smiled reassuringly.

"How are you feeling dear? Would you like a drink of water?"

Again, the strange dialect. Yannie could just about make out the meaning, but she had to concentrate really hard. She frowned, nodding.

The woman walked away, returning a few minutes later with a transparent jug filled with water, and a transparent cup. She poured some water into the cup and gave it to Yannie to drink.

Yannie grasped it in her right hand and quickly gulped it down. It was icy cold, even colder than the water from the waterfall near her village, and it made her shudder.

"Not so fast dear. There's plenty of time. Slowly!"

The woman filled the cup again and passed it to her.  This time Yannie sipped it slowly. She stared at the woman's white skin and yellow hair. She'd never seen a white person before, but she'd seen pictures in books. The room too resembled pictures she'd seen. It seemed she'd been transported into the world those books described so many years before.

She frowned again. She didn't understand. She tried again to move her left hand, only to feel the chain draw tight once more. She turned to the woman who seemed amused at her behaviour.

"You're not going anywhere for the time being dear, so you'd better keep still or you'll hurt yourself some more. A sprained ankle is enough for the time being don't you think?"

Yannie sank back onto the pillow. The woman laughed softly.

"That's right dear. You have a quiet doze. The doctor will be along shortly to check you over."

The woman walked away, disappearing through the doors that swung backwards and forwards silently at the end of the room. Yannie tried to control her panicking thoughts. She’d heard about villages been raided, but she had no knowledge of what had happened to the people who were taken away. Hardly anyone ever returned, and if they did, she'd heard nothing of their experiences. She guessed she was going to find out. The fact that she had been chained to the bed didn't reassure her.

Her thoughts returned to the afternoon's events. It had all happened so fast. If only she hadn't tripped she'd probably have got away. And what about her mother? What or who had made her scream? Yannie's eyes filled with tears. The reality was dawning on her. She was alone, there was no one here to help her, and her mother was in trouble somewhere and she couldn't get to her.

She tried again to move her left leg, and again it complained. She sighed. She could see there was nothing she could do for the moment. She'd have to wait for her ankle to recover. She tried to tell herself that really there was nothing to be frightened of. These people hadn't actually hurt her. They seemed interested in making her comfortable, but her doubts persisted. There was something about the atmosphere of this place she didn't like.

Again, she looked around the room. This time more carefully. She noticed several white-skinned women coming and going, pushing small carts in front of them. They seemed to go from bed to bed, speaking in quiet voices to the occupants, doing something and then moving on. The occupants of the beds appeared to be mainly dark-skinned young girls like herself. Some seemed to be whimpering after they had been visited, others were silent, some curled up apparently asleep. The strange thing was, they didn't seem to speak to each other, or say anything to the women except occasionally to protest or cry out. Although she tried, Yannie couldn't see what the women were doing. There were small barriers between each bed that obstructed her view. Her fears returned.

The sound of loud footsteps, striking the hard floor, came from the opposite end of the room and startled her. She turned her head to see a large man, also dressed in white bearing down upon her. He too had a white skin, although his cheeks were reddish, and his hair grey. He smiled at her, apparently trying to be friendly.

Yannie stared back at him coldly.

"Well young lady. Good to see you awake at last. Let's see how you are."

He went to pull back the sheet, but Yannie hastily hung onto it with her right hand.

"I'm fine. You don't need to look at me," she protested, drawing up her knees and holding them tightly, despite the searing pain in her ankle.

The man chuckled.  The woman had returned and was standing on the opposite side of the bed. She seemed to be waiting for instructions. The man glanced at her.

"Oh, we have a feisty one here, don't we?"

The woman grasped Yannie’s right wrist and forced it down onto the bed. When Yannie tried to sit up again, the man's smile turned to a frown.

"Keep still dear, or we'll have to restrain you, and you won't like that."

Yannie struggled again to sit up.

“I want to see my mother and my brother. What have you done to them?” She could hear her voice getting louder and more agitated.

The man cursed, ignoring her question. He produced a wide strap from his pocket and attached it to one side of the bed. He forced Yannie's chest down and stretched the strap across her throat before attaching it to the far side of the bed.

Yannie tried again to sit up but the pressure on her throat made it impossible. She lay back and gasping.

"Shall I give her another sedative Sir?  We don't want her scarred."

The man frowned again at Yannie.

"What's it to be young lady? Do we have to put you to sleep again, or would you prefer to know what's going on? You'll be better off knowing I can assure you."

Yannie stared at him. Her dark brown eyes were filling with tears, but she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing her crying. She knew he had won. She couldn't fight against them, and she knew he was right. It would be better if she was awake.

"Well?  Are you going to keep still and let me examine you?" He stared back at her, his hand on the strap.

Glumly, she nodded.

"That's better. You'll see. We'll soon understand each other."

The man signalled to the woman to release Yannie’s wrist and the strap over her throat. He took out a small book and a pen, and sat down on a stool beside the bed.

"Now young lady, a few questions."

He asked her name, her age, and whether she had brothers and sisters.  He seemed surprised when she told him she was 13 years old.

When he’d written it all down, he stood up and started to examine her. He pulled the sheet back and made her flatten her legs. This time she didn’t resist but a sort of terror enveloped her. Using a bright light on a stick, he checked her mouth and her ears. He took her temperature and then wound a black bandage round her arm and pumped it up till it hurt. He pricked her finger, squeezing a small amount of blood onto a piece of glass. Yannie froze. She watched his expression anxiously. She was scared of what he might do if he got really angry.

Then he turned to her breasts, squeezing them until she gasped with pain. He seemed pleased when the nipples stood erect. He felt her stomach, pressing down hard. He complained when he discovered that Yannie hadn’t emptied her bladder before he saw her, and insisted it be done immediately. The woman looked guilty and hurried off  returning with a strange chair on wheels, with a hole in the seat. It was pushed by a little dark-skinned girl, not much older than Yannie. The woman released Yannie's wrist from the chain and helped her off the bed and onto the chair. 

Yannie guessed she was supposed to relieve herself, but in the strange circumstances she found it hard. The man was marching up and down getting very irritated, and the women was telling her to hurry. Eventually she managed to empty her bladder, and they hurried her back on to the bed. She’d discovered she couldn't put any weight on her left foot at all without a blinding pain making her gasp.

The man must have noticed because he didn't bother to chain her wrist to the bed again. He nodded, looking at her ankle.

"That’s a nasty sprain. When we're finished, if you've been a good girl, I'll give you something to stop the pain for a bit, but you mustn't put any weight on  that foot for the time being.”

Yannie nodded.

Once she was back on the bed, he finished examining her stomach, and then separated her legs, bending them at  the knee. Yannie trembled. At first she resisted, but a glance from the man, and she complied. Not even her mother had ever looked at her like this. The man muttered to the woman, who passed him some thin transparent gloves. He proceeded to probe Yannie's genitals. She could feel him, pulling the folds of skin apart, and occasionally creating sensations that startled her. She felt deeply ashamed. Again she watched his face anxiously. What could they expect of her? No one had ever seen her or touched her like this. Her eyes again filled with tears. If her family had been around, they would have fought to protect her, but here there was no one.

The man suddenly turned to her.

"You've never had a man with you, have you?"

Yannie shook her head.

"And none of the militia touched you here when they brought you in?"

Again Yannie shook her head.

"I don't know, I can't remember anything until I woke up here."

The man nodded. The woman checked her notes.

"That's right. The captain brought her in. They'd had to give her a sedative."

The man seemed pleased.

"And you bleed regularly?"

Yannie nodded.  She was mystified. She couldn't understand why they were so interested. Of course she hadn't been with a man. She was only 13. In the forest you didn't find a man and get married until you were at least 16 years old. Why would they ask such questions but she didn’t dare ask?

The man finally seemed satisfied.

"Okay Yannie. That was very good. Now you're going to have to be very patient and do exactly as you are told, so your ankle heals quickly."

"But where are my clothes and what about my mother and my brother? How will they know where to find me?"

The man patted her shoulder.

"Don't you worry dear. You’ll get new clothes in due course, and you'll probably find your family when we get you back to the Training Centre. Meanwhile, you need to get plenty of rest."

He signalled to the woman, and they both left. The little brown-skinned girl gave Yannie a shy smile, but put her finger to her lips, indicating that they mustn't speak.  She fastened Yannie's wrist once more to the chain, covered her again with the sheet, and left.

Yannie rolled on to her side and curled up., bringing her knees to her chest. She’d hated the way the man had touched her, and even more how he had forced her to cooperate. The tears returned but this time they were a mixture of anger and the deepest shame.

After a while the woman came back and gave her two tablets. She said they would stop the pain in the ankle. Yannie swallowed them obediently. Shortly afterwards the brown-skinned girl returned with some strange-looking food on a tray, but Yannie pushed it away. She couldn’t eat. She felt too anxious. She lay there feeling more and more helpless and isolated, and before long the lights went out.

In the darkened room, all she could hear now was a constant soft hiss and muffled sobs. As her eyes became adjusted to the darkness, she could make out that the large shining panels on the walls were windows, and now the lights were extinguished, she could see the moon and the stars shining in a clear dark sky. They and the dark-skinned girl were her only connections to reality. None of the rest made any sense, but deep inside she knew she had to cling to who she was, whatever happened. She huddled under the thin sheet and closed her eyes.

She had never felt more alone.

                                        -----

Please don't forget to e-mail any coments you wish to make to info@daverobsoncoaching.co.uk