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Click hereThomson dragged Freya through the bar by her hair as she yelped in protest. The crowd both parted and stared.
'How many... times... do I have ...to tell you...I do... what I want bitch!' And he slammed her onto a seat.
Freya's crime was to object to Thomson tongue kissing another woman on the dance floor. Thomson strode away, back to the woman.
Freya sat knees together, face red as an apple, hopelessness washing over her. She couldn't understand why she was staying with him but then the creeping knot formed in her stomach and she knew but pressed the knowledge down so she didn't have to face her weakness. At that moment her hairclip snapped and landed in her lap. She went to the ladies room to fix herself. As she moved through the crowd, people whispered and gawked. That was it; she started sobbing.
By the time she got to the mirror, she was a mess. Her eye makeup made her look like a try hard Goth and her coif of waist length black dreads was now a rat's nest. To her horror she realised Thomson had nearly pulled a dread out by the roots. It was snapped at the base and hanging in an ugly way. So she stood there, soundless tears sliding down her face, wishing she listened more carefully to advice people gave her about men.
'Are you okay?' said a voice right behind her. It sounded light the light on a mountain on the water. She turned to find a tiny woman with ponytails like a bloodhound's ears and coffee coloured pixie eyes offering her a pair of nail scissors. 'I could trim it for you if you'd like?'
Freya bent and she clipped the errant lock.
'I'm Inga,' she said 'I saw what he did. You deserve better.'
'I know, it's stupid, I feel stupid ...' Freya looked at her feet.
'Look, don't get sad love, get even,'
And with that Inga stood on her tippy toes and kissed Freya on the lips. There was tongue. Freya fought it for a moment but she tingled below, so she kissed back. Afterwards, Inga stroked her face.
'Come with me.' she purred.
Freya blushed.
'I can't.'
'Come on, you're not gunna let him get away with it are you?'
Freya thought on it, summoned some courage and she grabbed Inga's hand. They bolted; through the bar, past a stunned Thomson and out into the car park. The afternoon light blinded them.
'I know this great place by a stream ...'
And with that, Inga was dragging Freya at a run, into the trees behind the bar. The area was steep and the pine forest dense and fragrant in the spring heat. They must have run for ten minutes, the tree trunks blurring, up a lung bursting slope before they came to a clearing. A small stream ran through the middle. Freya was winded and took in the glade from a bent over position. She felt Inga's hand slide up against her sex from behind and by the time she turned, she saw Inga gleefully stripping as she made for the water. Freya joined her, her clothes flying off on the breeze as dropped them. They jumped into the stream, their hands joined. Inga pulled Freya to her and they kissed with hands everywhere. Presently they lay on the soft grass by the stream and explored each other's bodies. Inga's breasts were perfect, her nipples the colour of wine when Freya sucked on them. She felt like velvet on cream inside and she moaned when Freya stroked her. Inga's tongue made Freya scream happily.
Much later they lay together, just gazing at each other. Freya had never been with a woman before and there was a puppy dog sweetness to Inga that made her heart ache. She was so diminutive and fragile; Freya just wanted to protect her.
'I never want to go home,' Freya rolled onto her back, looked at the sky and made her first bold decision for years. 'I want to go wherever you go.'
Inga sat up and clasped knees. Her long ponytails fell over her face. She was silent for a while.
'I don't live here. I'm a traveller, just passing through ...'
Desperation welled up in Freya. She had just met this woman but couldn't imagine not waking up tomorrow in her arms. She tried to conceal the anguish in her voice.
'Can't I come with you? I don't care where.'
Inga looked at her and frowned.
'This was a mistake ... I'm sorry. This always happens... You can't come where I am going. No human can.'
With that Inga's entire body faded into the background.
When darkness came, Freya was still crying and naked. When the rescue unit found her hours later, she wouldn't tell them what happened. They presumed she'd been raped but there was no evidence, except a pile of women's clothes to small to fit Freya. People in the bar told the police what they had seen, but it didn't explain anything and months later, Freya still wouldn't talk. She left Thomson the following day. Her parents were delighted when she moved home with them, but she just wanted to be nearer to the forest. One day Inga might come back. At night she dreamt of her body and sometimes she thought she heard her voice tinkling on the wind.