And the Truth shall set you Free.

Wil was very thoughtful. He pondered his final words after the group celebrated their previous ‘Survivor story’.
‘And the truth shall set you free’, he had said as the 3 friends celebrated Nancy’s story over tea and Lila’s fresh scones. (Please see previous post)

Acting on the feeling that he was concealing a ‘truth’, he picked the phone and listened as Vi’s phone rang……..and rang. His heart was beating a little faster than usual and he almost put the phone down in relief when suddenly her out of breath voice gasped ’hello……oh still be there, please! I’ve run all the way in from the garden!’

‘It’s me Wil, and yes I’m still here,’ he said laughing.
‘Wil?’ Vi giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment at how silly she sounded. ‘Oh dear, don’t tell me you have a problem for our, I mean Lila, you and my supper da…arrangement for Friday?’ She smacked her forehead gently at her clumsy choice of words. Wil must think her a silly woman!

‘No, I’m looking forward to Friday Vi, In fact I’m wanting to ask,’ he paused fumbling with the unfamiliar words to express his feelings, ‘to ask ……… that is…..if maybe I could come earlier……… before Lila joins us in your cottage?’

Suddenly feeling hot around her neck, Vi drew in her breath to still her beating heart, ‘STOP being ridiculous,’ she ordered herself. ‘You’re almost 63, not an 18 year old,’ but her heart rate increased in spite of the command.

Out loud she said, ‘that would be fine Wil.' She tried to say it in a matter of fact voice, failing miserably as it squeaked pitifully. She cleared her throat and nattered on, ‘the roast will be in the oven and the potatoes………..oh my goodness, please feel free to come earlier Wil, now I must finish planting those petunias. Bye,’ she trilled foolishly.

Wil replaced his phone and sat for a minute. His smile was ridiculous! Was he reading too much into her fluster and giggles? He hoped that her agreement to his arriving before the third member of their Survivors’ group meant that she would be glad for them to have some time together on their own.
He patted the receiver gently and smiled some more.

He went back to his computer to review the latest story blogged on the website for the ‘Wil, Lil and Vi Survivors’ group.’ He and Lila read the stories as they came in as Vi didn’t have a computer. They took it in turns to decide on which one of them should be featured at their bi monthly meetings. They met in turn at each other’s homes and celebrated with a
meal of some sort or another.
He firmly put the pleasant thought of having some time alone with Vi on Friday evening, behind him, put on his glasses and read the latest story that had caught his attention.

‘My name is Leyla von Bruggenstein and mine is the age old story of surviving a rape to discover a few of months later that I was pregnant by the man who brutally attacked me,’ the story began. Leyla gave her details of where she lived and when it had happened. She was 18 at the time of the attack.

‘I was brought up a Christian in a church going family. For me it wasn’t an empty thing I took part in because my father insisted but a matter of my heart being in tune with my Father God. I had learned to trust Him completely, no matter the circumstances.
I had a lot of counselling after the dreadful rape experience and a kind police woman helped me back to mental health (I had peace for the first time since the attack and could sleep again) To my horror I had to accept that I was pregnant when I eventually saw our family doctor. My mom and dad accompanied me.

He told us that there were 3 options.

As this had been declared rape I had access to a legal abortion.
There was the option of adoption if I decided to carry the baby to full term.
The third was to accept the baby as my own.

My parents held me as we wept together. The doctor prayed with us to come to the best decision and we left with heavy hearts.
‘I cannot abort this baby,’ I told my family. ‘What I AM asking of you all is that you join me in forgiving this man and forgetting about his part in my child’s life. I need you to accept him or her as a valuable part of this large wonderful family. God knows and will help us to celebrate this new life.

And they did! They were perfectly wonderful. We all adored Emilio from the moment he was born. He had about him a serenity that attracted people............and it is still his personality.

Pixabay
Through my pregnancy I went on with my degree at the local university. Everyone there accepted my decision. I was seldom reviled for the fact that I didn’t have a husband and when it did blow up once into something ugly I stated my case and with the support of my family and church, was able to survive that ordeal.

Emilio is 18 now and imagine my shock and horror when I was called to the police station last week to collect him! It was midnight and I drove as fast as I could, parked in the emergency space outside the building and ran terrified into the brightly lit foyer. In that glaring light I saw my son looking drawn and strained. His face was black and blue and his one arm was in a makeshift sling. Blood covered the front of his once white shirt. The fact that he was alive was amazing and he and I sobbed together as I held him.

We were taken to an interview room that was bleak but at least we could sit down. My father arrived and with two police officers we were told the gruesome story.

Emilio had been leaving a restaurant and down a badly lit alley heard what he thought was a cat crying in a strangled scream.. He looked and seeing someone struggling, he shouted and then ran down the dark passage. He interrupted a man and a woman fighting. He had torn her clothes off her body and was about to rape her when Emilio fell upon the man like an army of heaven’s avenging angels.

They fought bitterly. Like fire and water they clashed.

Pixabay

The young woman managed to get her voice back and yelled for help as she ran towards the street.

‘And this is Rosie,’ said the police woman as she brought in a young woman wrapped in a blanket, holding a cup of tea in her hand.
‘I wanted to meet Emilio’s mother before I do a rape kit procedure so the beast who tried to rape me can be brought to justice. I want to thank you personally,' she said to Leyla, 'for raising a young man brave and generous enough to risk his life protecting someone he had never even met.’ She embraced the pair of them, cup and all in her hand, 'thank you both from the bottom of my heart,' she said earnestly .'

Wil wiped his eyes as he finished reading the story for the second time.

The circumstances of Emilio’s conception and his preventing a young woman from a fate that his mother had suffered had a sort of poetic justice about it that made his heart pound faster.

‘Was this the reason,’ Wil asked himself ‘and purpose for which this boy had been born? Born as a result of rape who lived to save someone from the same fate?’

‘This is the story of the week for me and I can’t wait to share it with Lila and Vi,’ he thought as he closed his computer for the night. 'A brave young man indeed, worthy of our attention and admiration.'