Marrying A Snapping Turtle

Pain

Ida came out of the screening room with puffy red eyes. Kensley couldn’t help but poke her tear-streaked cheeks.

“You’re such a crybaby.”

Ida rolled her sore eyes. “Why did it have to be a tragedy? I hate sad endings.” She sniffled and dabbed at her running nose.

Kensley chuckled and walked leisurely beside her, his soft eyes never leaving her. “There is an afterparty but if you are tired, we can go home anytime.”

Ida waved her free hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Just let me touch up on my makeup and we can head on over.”

Just as she was about to say something else, she noticed a familiar redhead woman grab and shove a younger actress behind herself. In front of her were three men with jeering eyes. Her side profile appeared fierce but her voice was too low to be heard.

Ida frowned and pointed towards them. “Are they fighting?”

Kensley looked up and his face grew tense. Looking around, he caught the eye of his assistant and waved him over.

“Go help.”

Ida gave Kensley an incredulous look. “Why don’t you go help?”

Kensley snorted, “It’s best not to be the knight in shining armor. Women often get the wrong idea.”

Ida’s brows furrowed in confusion. She watched as the assistant hurried over and threw himself between the women and men to mediate. The smile of the three men slowly faded and their faces turned red and livid. The young woman hiding behind was trembling but Mandy turned to comfort her. After a few minutes, the three men left, angrily throwing insults at the bowing assistant. By now, the situation dawned on Ida. Her eyes widened and she broke out in cold sweat. Kensley gently tugged on Ida’s arm and suggested they leave.

In a daze, Ida was turning away and she caught Mandy’s attention. Their eyes only met briefly before they looked away simultaneously. Ida walked a short distance with Kensley before her steps faltered and she stopped. Her free hand balled into a fist as she focused on the polished marble floor. The glamorous specks of lights danced on the ground beneath her feet but Ida couldn’t see the beauty in it.

“Does this type of thing happen often?” she whispered.

Kensley paused and murmured, “Who knows…”

Ida looked up rigidly. “Do you ever stand up for them?”

Kensley looked down into her watery eyes, his expression was unreadable. “I can’t protect every single woman in the world.”

Ida felt her chest tighten painfully and her grip subconsciously tightened on Kensley’s arm. She searched Kensley’s eyes and found a trace of unfamiliar coldness. His words played like a broken record in her head: Best not to the knight in shining armor. Women often get the wrong idea…

But if no one had stood up for the young woman earlier, what would have happened? Ida shuddered at the thought. Her hand slowly relaxed and she slipped out of the crook of Kensley’s arm.

“I’m not feeling well after all. I want to head home first. You can stay and mingle if you want.”

Kensley took her limp hand and placed it back on his arm. “Let’s go home.”

Ida didn’t say another word but her frosty demeanor spoke volumes.

***

After Mandy saw the young actress off, she texted her manager saying she was heading back to the hotel for the night. She desperately tried to hold herself together but the moment she got to her room, she collapsed to the floor in a trembling heap.

It had been years yet she still couldn’t move past her traumatic past. That year, she was just an upcoming actress and was promised a heavily contested role. She should have been weary when she learned that the audition would be at a hotel.

She was young and naive thinking that she would be safe since she was accompanied by her manager. She should have trusted her instinct and ran the moment she entered the premium suite and saw a group of middle-aged men lounging on a sofa but her manager assured her it was okay. That was the day she realized that behind the glitz and glamor, there was an abysmal pit in the entertainment world.

They stole her virginity and took turns stripping her of her dignity. It seemed like an eternity in hell before they had their fun, leaving her in a disheveled state. She was cast aside in that oversized bed; her eyes vacant, her voice gone, and a part of her dead.

Mandy hated everyone and everything but the one she hated the most was her helpless self. The rapists were all dominant figures in society— tyrants with money and clout. She couldn’t do anything but bear the humiliation in forced silence. With no one to turn to, all her anger and hatred turned to self-loathing.

She had a mental breakdown and was hospitalized; it took weeks before she was well enough to reintegrate into society. Still, whenever a man approached her, even in passing, she would tremble and her eyes would dart in panic. She didn’t want to live like a terrified rat scurrying back into the covers of darkness. But it all changed that fateful day.

Mandy was lost in thought when she somehow got caught up in a crowd. In a panicked state, she numbly followed along as she was jostled into a public art exhibition. The moment the crowd dissipated and she was able to catch her breath, Mandy looked up and saw her salvation.

She had never liked abstract art but the piece titled ‘Pain’ spoke to her. Like a voice welling up from the depths of her soul, it screamed her story and those of countless women who couldn’t speak; their oppressed voices thundering behind locked doors and muffled under torn and bloodied bed sheets.

She broke down and cried.