Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1845368-The-Sin-of-Sodom-1-5
by Neda
Rated: 18+ · Novel · Romance/Love · #1845368
The experience of a girl being raped by the police forces in Iran
Scene 1

Jenna was running through the beautiful grassy view of the Plaine Winston Churchill Park which separated the Vieux-Lille of the Madeleine while listening to Nothing Else Matters of Metallica. She tried to fill her young lungs with the fresh mid-summer breathe of the early morning that moves through the tall green trees and awakens the smell of freshness of grasses. Her dark-brown wavy hair was pony tail as always, moved up and down while she ran. Her uniquely green eyes that were hidden under her dark-blue cap, suits her sports clothes. She stopped in front of football field, was jumping slowly, and tried to keep her fast heart beats, and looking for her co-worker who were playing football and after waving him continue her smooth running through the park. It was the last day that she would run in this park, again; she had a smile on her lips,” I have a mission to travel to another country and it makes me happier. After the loss of my beloved mother nine months ago, I decided to travel to my motherland, where I have never born, but I know I have the blood in my veins,” she thought,”so it is the best reason for me; kill two birds with one stone, do a job journalism mission for the 20minutes newspaper where I adore to work for over four years and travel to Iran to find my father.”

“I am 25 now; I will celebrate my birth day in Iran on 12 September, next month. “She thought. After her mother’s death, Jenna made her decision to take the first step of answering to an unanswered question “who was my father?” And by the time that she left all alone, could decide freely about her future and what she would face with after she knows who could be her father. She was running for over an hour, and still she was energetic. She changed her way to the Belfry  to watch Lille    from above, the city she has grown up in, for the last time. She could run for more than three hours in a row, by then; she preferred to run than took a taxi or a bus to arrive at her destination. She wanted to collect the fresh weather in her lungs, feel the pure rain drops that sometimes escaped from the sky and sat on her soft olive skin, watch the people who smiled and admired her beauty and memorize the buildings that remind the deep civilization of France. It was the habit that she followed any time she wanted to travel to an unknown place, like; she would have never had a way back home.

After stepping up the stairs of Belfry, she stood in front of one of the small balconies and watched the city view. The Deûle River looked like a silver folded Christmas ribbon wrapped the buildings that organized beautifully with vary colors through the city, and the greenness of trees decorated it well; Lille was a fair city, even more pretty than Paris or London. She smiled and made herself believed that she would see this city again, “I will return here. It is my home; France is my motherland. I only will find my father, and my lost half of identity. I promised myself from the childhood, so, I should not worry where I will end up to – “she thought and sighed,” yes. I’ll be back home. Iran is just another country full of unknown conditions and coincidences, like Somalia, South Africa, Cuba and any other places I risked my neck there. The only difference is that my mom and father were Iranian, and I have Persian blood in my veins too. “She whispered and tried to believe herself, spread her arms, like a little young sparrow eager to jump and fly, felt the freedom, and her soul flew out.

Scene 2

Alex loved to play soccer in the morning, and it was a habit he followed every morning before he goes to work, then he took a shower and drank a cup of Chinese green tea and got ready to go to work. Working as a photojournalist, sometimes is tricky, with a quick search on the internet, you can find so many people who admire and do photojournalism and have the passion for it, but in real time, it could not be that easy and emotional. Photojournalism is a hard job to do; you have to risk your neck sometimes, or even you have to watch instead of help, but he was a talented stoned heart one. About love? You cannot say, he has never been in love, actually; he fell for so many girls, but he has never felt so romantic in his private time with a woman. Nothing has been special even when he got married his ex-wife; whatever he desired for was sex, beer and photography, but I dare to say he had a special feeling about a crazy girl; a Persian girl who was full of complex, mystery and secrets. Her mother was the same, and it is why he really loved to visit Iran, in hope to find lots of chicks there! Well, every day, one of his routine aspects was Jenna, who she came to the park for jogging and running, waving to him and gone like a pretty cigar smoke in the dark room. She was not only attractive and mysterious, but her free soul that does not care about anything but herself, truly caught him. She was his friend for more than four years, a friendship which I seriously do not know what it is, in fact; a relationship, simple friendship, open relationship. Anyway, it was not in his control; the leader was she, and well! He painted the town red during this mysterious kind of relationship, have a friend to talk, a co-worker to have fun with and a girl to sex. Does a man want more? I do not think so! He was the witness of her striptease every night from his bedroom window, and she knows it well; she does it to excite his manly passion, and he called it a kind of flirtation, but actually, he did not know her. Why she was doing this? Was she like him, why she did not let them to be in relationship then? She was like a fish, hard to catch, and it was the rule of the shadow and the man.

Scene 3

“Jenna, I will tell you one more time dear, Iran’s situation is very different from the other places you’ve visited before. On the other hand, you know there is an unstable insecure condition after the election in Iran. You would remember well about Neda Agha Soltan, the girl who was shot on June 20th two months ago, and still there are so many movements and riots in the streets and of course pressures and suppression from the police forces- “Maggie told Jenna with a serious voice, “- and you are my best friend’s daughter. I promised her to take care of you after her death, and now you persist to do this mission yourself.” She told her. “I know you worry about me; I know you are not only my boss but my godmother, as I told my mother, I tell you one more time; it is important for a girl like me to know everything about her past. Without my father, or at least without knowing who he was, I really am half, my ego and my identity is not complete,” she told to her boss.

“ darling, your ego is all depend on yourself and not who you were born from “ she smiled and hold her hands," Jenna, my dear; I know you are a strong woman, and I saw it in you, since you were only a child, but Iran’s different, and – “ she stopped a while and looked at Jenna’s curios eyes, “ – and you may know something that could change everything and remember, knowing the truth and changes are not always positive; it could effect on your life in a negative way!” she expressed.” I think you know something Maggie, my mommy told you everything about her past and my father, but you don’t like to tell me,” she nagged.

“No dear, I wish I knew it then I would never let you find it yourself, there was something special about your mother’s past that she always tried to hide it. When she hid it from you, it could be something dangerous, negative and harmful to you, so why you are trying to find about it?” she asked.

” the point is this! Why should it be a secret? Who was my father who made my mom to leave him? A criminal? A bad guy? Even so, she always told me he was a gentleman; they were in love when my mom separated, then what happened between them that made my pregnant mom to leave him? These are the questions that I’ve grown up with for over 26 years. Maggie, please don’t prevent me from doing what I wanna do, and I have to do. Please! You know I have the job and permission; I have the ticket and the visa, and I will fly to Iran on Monday, so please don’t try to veto my decision!” she said with a naughty smile, the boss laughed.

” you’re free willed woman and a courageous and strong human. I believe in you and pray for you to achieve your goal.” She told her and gave her a hug. 

Jenna felt stronger and more purposeful; you could see it in her attitude and even while she stalked like a beautiful peacock through the tables of the newspaper office and said goodbye to her co-workers. She stopped by Alex's table, his favorite co-worker and close friend and knocked on the surface of the table.

“Seems no one’s home today!” she told him flirtatiously, he gave her a serious look.

”My girl, I’m so busy, and you see this. Go away and lemmi do my job!” he said like an old man.

“Oh, my grandpa, you are sending me away? I’m going to travel for over two months, and maybe you would never have another chance to hug me!” she spoiled herself.

He took off his glasses and watched her flirty movements and girly games; she knew he is weak against her, and she enjoyed bothering him with such acts, “you’re so beautiful today, when you waved me in the morning, I couldn’t continue the game anymore. You’re a gamer Jenna. “He expressed his real feelings freely.

”Well grandpa, I just want you to invite me to a dinner or something tomorrow night. I don’t have any more time. It could be our last super in the Saturday night, the endmost weekend we spend together,” she nodded.

“You’re a bad girl; A terrible girl who should work as a strip dancer or a poker dealer. Why did you choose journalism then?” he asked her with a brutal smile. she loved his smile, and nothing more; his sexy lips, cute dark brown French eyes, his athletic body and attitude could gentle any girl’s heart, but Jenna loved him like a close friend and nothing more else.

“Oh, a strip dancer? It was my favorite kinda job, but actually, my lawyer mom liked a high-class job for her daughter!” she laughed.

”You’re cruel Jenna, A wild uncontrollable sexy girl who kills all her male co-workers with a cold reaction! Maybe you should be a sniper! Yeah, that’s better!” he said.

“I already am, grandpa. Haven’t your heart ached recently?” she soothed. 

He stood up,” I beg you madam to honor me to have dinner with me tomorrow night and a memorable dance in the midnight.” He asked sacredly. 

Jenna flinched” oh, well, let me think… err – “she stared at his eyes, “– ok. I will give this honor to you, and give you an opportunity to spend a night with me, because I will start my trip in two days, and maybe I would never see you again. “She whispered in his ear with a flirty voice, He was shocked and kept silence,” what? You don’t want this honor?” she asked.

“Well…well, of course I do. It … it just was a shocking sudden honor!” he smiled and seemed really honored!

Scene 4

Alex was completely ready, dressed to kill, with a shaved sexy face, a tricky smile in his black Tuxedo; he looked like a Prince or at least a President than a modest newspaper photojournalist. He was 36 – looked younger – divorced from a French model when he was 27, lived all alone in his beautiful artistic apartment in a simple building where had two views of the Plaine Winston Churchill Park and the bedroom of Jenna. His adventurous spirit made him to travel a lot. He has been in several countries of the world in the most awkward places of it, and the shots he had made during his trips, caused him to become a well-known NetGeo  Photographer as well. He adjusted his black bow, checking himself in the mirror and winked, “I’m absolutely handsome! “He told himself. He knew Jenna since she started her journalism job in 20minutes newspaper, and became her best friend ever since. It was not just a simple friendship though, because had some benefits during the drunken time of Jenna. Her beauty, free spirit and selfish attitude made him to like her more than a friend; however, he could not call it love, but he really liked her in a special way.

His cell-phone rang “Jenna! Seems you’re so in love with me!” he said. 

“Shut up! I’m just hungry!” she said. 

“Oh! Your bitch spirit never stops insulting people! You should be a straggle or a hooligan! Not a human rights activist! “He giggled.

” well! You’re a bastard after all! What can I say?!Come and pick me up! Hurry airhead! “She Shouted.

“Wow, wow, wow! Ok madam, in 5 minutes.” He agreed. 

She ,in a pale pink night dress, updo her wavy hair in a stylish way, darkens her eye lids and wore a shiny rosy lipstick which made her lips look fuller and kissable, was like a super star or a celebrity. He stared at her body curves, “yummy mommy!” he whispered to himself and open the door of the car.

“You look like a – “he stopped.

“A princess? Is it what you’re trying to say?” she fastened her seat belt.

” no,-“

She interrupted him again “an angel? “She added. 

“No! Like the sexiest porn star, I’ve ever seen!” he laughed and she just watched the streets through the window car, shining in the rain and yellow lights; she believed what he said. The Cesar Club Café was located across Rue De Paris road, has become a popular place for Lille's locals to meet for after-work cocktails, dinner and dancing located in the centre of town, not far from the Place de General de Gaulle. Its basement champagne-bar-come-café had an electric underwater atmosphere created with moody blue and green lights, colorful curved banquettes, Grecian columns and glass tables – and the club attracts a sophisticated crowd.

“I love light romantic music sometimes; it gives me a pastoral feeling.” She said while cutting a piece of juicy beef.

”Yeah, it’s good for tomboys like you; it could bridle your queen bee heart!” he added.

”Please, I’m not in mood for jokes tonight! Lemmi eat my dinner, “she ordered while drinking some red wine.

”Ok! Queen Bee!” he giggled. She gazed at him, “ok! Sorry! Let’s change the topic! Why you decide to go to Iran?” he asked.

“Oh! Well, you know why, then why asking me again?” she said and stopped eating. 

“I’m really worried about you Jenna. Iran's situation is not good at all, there are so many people in jails for nothing, so many shot, stoned, arrested innocently!” he cleaned his lips and laid back.

”I don’t care. I’m French and due to international law, they can’t arrest and prison other citizens,” she acknowledged. 

“You’re so optimist girl. It's not that simple; you heard so many foreign tourists, and journalist were arrested or disappeared there!” he assured.

”I don’t wanna look at the empty half of the glass! I wanna find my daddy; I need to know who he was, an answer to my unanswered questions! I don’t care what happen to me. I can bear any kinda hard situations; I am like a soldier; I faced with so many unexpected matters during my job missions,” she boasted.

”But you’ve never faced with an Islamic police who not only don’t protect you, but is the only thing you should escape from. Iranian police is not for security; it's for fear, death and insecurity!” he described. She ignored to hear anymore; she has already known all about it, but who could stop her? She just wanted to know the truth. 

“Let’s dance a little,” she grabbed his hand and pull.

Under the greenish blue light in the dance floor, light amorous music which played before The Cesar Club comes alive with electro, house and disco music, they were like a prince and princess; soft body movements and rhythmic foot steps should show a scene of a romantic dance, but nothing you could see except eyes that looked to the eternal thinking to an unknown future; worrying, fear and unsure expression in their faces ruin that romantic scene.

He tried to smile, looked at her face “you’re absolutely beautiful Jenna; I don’t wanna lose you,” he whispered.

”Ah! Alex, if only I knew the truth about my daddy, I would never risk my life again!” she confessed.

”Don’t worry, you’re strong; you can do it girl!” he held her,” I won’t let anybody hurt you,” he whispered in her ear.

She stared at his brown eyes, smiled “maybe it’s time to take me home, freak!” she muttered, the left side of his lips curved to smile; he knew what does it mean. A night with an angel.

Scene 5

She watched her open baggage for more than 15 minutes in a row, everything; clothes, hair dryer, make up kit, camera, beautifully matched together, like colorful parts of a Lego robot.” I should have forgotten something! Oh boy! “She spoke to herself, continue watching,” I shouldn’t drink so much last night!” she sighed. Close the luggage and got out of the house. It was a cool summer evening, cloudy and windy. She walked slowly on the pavement, thinking “what if I can’t find my father? “She asked herself. The streets were calm, not like every evening when people came outside to chat, skate, shopping or sitting in the square, it was abnormally silent. She came out in the hope to forget her concerns by watching kids and teenage playing, people chatting and gossiping, but it looked at that Lille was warning her too. “I don’t care people! I’m going to find myself! None of you could stop me! Even you Lille!” she yelled, and an old man who was walking slowly on the other side of the street, turn back and shook his head.

She stopped by the café, smelled the delicious coffee and cake scent, and entered. The café was so crowded; people escaped from the windy weather and the chance of sudden rain, having coffee and chat. She found a table, sat lonely in the corner of the café, looking to the street through the window; to the old man who was walking slowly, the newspaper piece that dances with the wind moves and a kid who played with a white ball next to a small red-brick building. She ordered a French coffee and a carrot cake, thinking to the latest time she could speak with her mother in the hospital. Her yellowish skin, pale gray eyes and white lips expressed the last hours of life. She tried to hold her daughter’s hand firmly with a cold hand, but was not able to.

“Mom, please! Close your eyes and rest a little!” she sobbed. 

“I … have to … do … I … am … sorry!” she said her last words and rest forever. Jenna clear her tears with back of her hands, drink coffee and think. The only one, the only family and the only supporter of her life was gone and left her alone. She had nothing to lose anymore, “then who cares what happen to me? “She thought. “Why you should be sorry mom? What did you know? Who is my dad? Why you’ve never told me about? Why left me in a world of questions alone?” she tried to control her tears. Cut a piece of cake with fork and eat. The sweet taste of the cake stopped her tears, “she baked cakes well, she always told me she had learned it from a friend in Iran, but who?” she wondered. 

She took out her wallet, a photo of her mother and father together among some Indian children, smiling to the camera; she touched the photo like she touched their faces, smiled bitterly “I’m so alone mom, if I don’t find daddy … I will be lonely whole my life!” she thought and sighed. She paid the bill and decided to run slowing to home. It was raining slowly, still windy and cold. “I will find him! I can find him! There was nothing I can’t do in my life ever! I always could do what I wanted!” she smiled triumphantly. 

© Copyright 2012 Neda (nedaaria at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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