A Stage that Never Was

By John C T Miller

This is the story of a young innocent 17 year old girl, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and after she was brutally molested and drugged, lead to substance abuse, exploitation, prostitution and finally murder. Was it her misfortune which lead to her downfall or was it the dream to be a star on stage? She was a casualty of circumstance, and circumstance would leave other casualties.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John C T Miller
• Release date: Mar 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9780992793432

John C T Miller

John CT Miller is a former South African journalist, who previously covered and wrote about entertainment, courts, crime, and consumer affairs, before settling in the UK and turning his hand to writing books.

Book preview

A Stage that Never Was

Copyright 2014 John CT Miller

Published by John CT Miller at Smashwords

The moral rights of the author have been affirmed and all rights reserved.

You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication or any part of it in any form or by any means including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing and recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person, who does any unauthorised action in relation to this publication, may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Condition of Sale

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

ISBN:978-0-9927934-3-2 (epub)

Introduction

This story of starry-eyed and childlike dreams destroyed by addiction and exploitation could have taken place in any city, state or country. The exact location is not important. It could be taking place right now in your community, on the streets or behind closed doors near you.

The bodies of an elderly pianist, a young drummer and a middle-aged drug dealer and an old worn out bra tied around the neck of a young woman, who dreamed of being a star on stage has left police, her mother and newspaper readers with more questions than answers.

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Chapter 1

A Star on Stage

Amore was only 17 years old when her life ended and she was reborn into an adult world of pain, anger, drugs and exploitation.

By the time she was 20 she had seen and experienced more than most see in a lifetime, by then most of her time was spent trying to forget history or running from her past.

The only times in those years when Amore successfully forgot, and when she truly enjoyed the present was when she allowed her best friends Mary Jane, H and C in to her life.

Her friends Mary Jane, H and C, were marijuana, heroin and cocaine, which she became more addicted to as the years went by.

Amore was petite with big sparkling green eyes, long blond hair down to her slim waist and large breasts she had yet grown into. She was pretty, but did not stand out from the crowd.

Her striking green eyes, thick golden hair and those large breasts which she had not yet learned to use did make her slightly different to most other girls in her school though, who were still flat chested by comparison and all wore their hair in the latest style, imitating the popular icons which infiltrated their lives through music, movies and magazines.

Up until she was 17 Amore did what most girls her age did. She went to school, neither hitting the high grades nor being the bottom of the class, she enjoyed school for the social life and gossip, loved listening and singing along to the latest songs on her iPod and spent her evenings on the phone, sending messages or on Facebook chatting to the girls she’d spent the day at school with, hearing about the latest romances, break ups and pregnancies.

Amore had a secret passion of books and music, she spent long afternoons at the local library immersed in books, the classics Austin, Elliot and Poe as well as more modern classics, Sallinger, Wild and Orwell.

Most books she knew could be downloaded, but she loved the feel of the pages between her fingers and especially enjoyed those books which were leather bound.

On her way home from the library she would indulge in her other passion, singing. She’d walk the mile or so home from the library with her iPod on and sing along to her favorite songs, most were the latest hits and she’d loose herself completely to the words as the beat of the song and the melody took over.

Secretly she wished she could become a star on TV or stage even though her mother had hopes for her going off to university the following fall to study for a degree.

Amore dreamed about entering a TV talent show or being discovered by a talent spotter one night down at the karaoke cafe where she and her friends would sometimes go at the weekend.

She’d even been in a few of the school productions, most were Roger and Hammerstein musicals, and although she hadn’t got the lead, she’d done a few short solo pieces and had thrived on the attention she got from it.

Her life was falling into place before her, she could see a good future whether she succeeded academically or musically.

She was popular with the boys as they liked her girl-next-door attitude, she hadn’t had a steady boyfriend, her mom had made it clear she needed to pass her exams before that could happen, but had had offers and that was enough for Amore to know that there would me more offers in the future to look forward to.

The day came when this life ended for Amore and a new one, less idyllic planted its seed into her core.

Chapter 2

Kidnap

Amore decided to visit the library after school, the dark and low clouds overhead threatened more cold winters rain but gave no warning of what was about to happen.

She looked at the clouds and wondered to herself if they could get any lower; they seemed to be sitting on the tops of the leafless trees. She sighed, and wished for the return of summer, longer days and warmer nights and the possibilities it brought.

The route she took between the library and home took her past an old house which appeared abandoned and in need of much repair.

Nature had taken control of the garden and was rapidly consuming the house. Even the windows had become victim to some of the vines and brambles as they clung to the outside panes, swiftly making their way upwards.

Amore was always attracted to the house; its ramshackle exterior seemed to mask a once alive and inhabited home. She thought once again to herself that she really must do some research at the library about this house, wondering who had once lived there and why they left.

Walking past the front gate of the house, now half off its hinges, she heard the voice of a man calling out from behind her.

Please, please can you help me?

A little surprised and startled at the sudden intrusion on her thoughts, she turned round, and saw a well built man, probably in his twenties wearing jeans and a denim jacket.

He was no more than a couple of yards from her.

Before she had time to take in any more or to ask what was wrong another two men one white and the other black, suddenly appeared on either side of her.

In that brief moment, time seemed to slow down, she took in small details, one of the white men had a scar down his left cheek, a white van passed by and a crow harked and hawed on the top branch of a bare oak tree across the road.

Before she knew it the men grabbed hold of her arms while the stranger who had asked for help ran at her and punched her just below her sternum.

The severe blow would have flattened her but for his two accomplices pinning her arms and holding her up.

In that split second after his fist smashed into her body, everything seemed to shatter into tiny pieces.

The pain was almost unbearable. Her head was spinning and her thoughts racing through her mind in fragments. Scream. The pain of the blow had knocked all of the wind out of her and before she could get her breath back and scream one of the men had pulled of his beanie and stuffed it in her mouth.

Amore tasted grease from his hair and repulsion and fear gripped her mind and her limbs took over, she struggled with all her strength, her body contorting as she pulled and twisted, clawed and kicked trying to free herself from these men, but her attackers tightened their grip, the strength of one being no match for Amore, she made little impact against two.

The third kicked open the gate leading up to the house and pushed open the front door which was obviously not locked. They entered what once must have been the living room.

The abduction had been well rehearsed. Her attackers knew what they were doing and what their plans were.

Not a single word was spoken until they were inside and behind the front door.

While Amore had often wondered what was on the other side of that once grand front door, she never in her wildest dreams imagined this is how she would get to find out.

Where the crumbling plaster did not expose the bricks, pealing and frayed floral wall paper hung limply on the damp stained walls; faded and torn curtains covered the windows and a threadbare carpet hugged the floor, in places so worn floor boards could be seen beneath it. An old fashion fireplace lay corroded and blackened in the hearth.

The only furniture in the room were three old arm chairs with wooden arms and feet, like over stuffed and tattered tramps their fillings spewed out in places so worn.

The silence was broken by a strange sound. It took a second or two before Amore recognised the sound of her own voice; muffled by the beanie. Opening her mouth wider and using her tongue which felt dry and foreign in her own mouth she forced out the beanie, tears streamed down her face and she heard what sounded like a small child pleading.

Please god, please don’t hurt me no. Please, no.

The three men who had dragged her into the house now pushed her into the centre of the living room.

As the men hungrily ogled the sight of their latest victim they couldn’t help but notice and admire her, even though she hugged herself tightly, her eyes wide open and wild, looking for an opportunity.

She was like prey circled by a pack of wild dogs ready for the kill. The brief silence was broken by sniggers and laughter.

The man with the scarred face spoke.

Please god, no? God? Why do they all become so religious when this happens?! These girls! More laughter followed and the other man spoke.

"They don’t think about god whilst they’re running around! I agree though, it’s going to take more than a miracle for you to get out of this one, but no, god doesn’t give a fuck about you.

You’re here to entertain and please us." He leered, as he moved closer to Amore poking a finger into her chest to punctuate his point.

Hey, do you remember that last one we did? She asked god to help her as well didn’t she?!" Said the man with the scar when the black man cut in,

let’s get on with this he hungrily snarled.

Amore couldn’t help it; it came from no-where. It wasn’t particularly a scream for help; it was more of a scream that came from pure and total fear.

A blow to the back of the head stopped it. She’d never felt anything like that before. It was a blow that jarred her body and froze her thoughts, she saw blackness and bright light in the same instance and she slumped to the floor.

Get up! the big build man said as he reached down and gathered a handful of her hair he dragged her up.

Life seemed to spring back into her body and she bolted toward the door, seeing a gap between two men but forgetting that her hair was entangled in the big mans fingers she was jerked backward, onto her back with a thud.

She clawed at the damp dirty carpet and pulled herself onto her hands and knees where she was held in position like a statue as the big man wrapped her hair around his fist and held it close to his hip, holding her hair like she was a dog on a lead.

The black man saw his opportunity and stepped in front of Amore, putting a heavily booted foot onto her hands and pressing down onto her knuckles, a noise started to come from her throat but the fist holding her hair tugged sharply as her head was forced up and her tear filled eyes met those of the black man.

He introduced him self as Archibald Junior then spoke.

Listen my girl, it’s not that I’m worried about you screaming, I’m not. No-one can hear you. It’s just that it pisses me off!

Scar face, or Big Joe as he was called by the other men along with the thick built man holding her hair who they referred to as Tiny each laughed.

Archibald Junior said Now, be a good girl and take of your clothes. He chuckled as he said this and stepped off Amore’s hand, leaving a deep impression of his sole on her skin.

At this command Tiny pulled Amore up by her hair and shoved her back into the middle of the room.

Amore stood motionless not knowing whether to obey or try and run, every muscle in her body involuntarily contracting causing her to shiver and tremble before the men.

When we tell you to take off your clothes, we mean now and not later said Big Joe calmly returning to his chair.

Get up Tiny said, stepping towards