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A Short Story : A Story?

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smoking pistol, aiming it at her. She held up her hands. He walked towards her and pressed the barrel into her forehead. She began to cry. This was it, she thought. “Not yet,” Blue said. What seemed like an eternity passed before he pulled the pistol away. She bent down, sobbing. He grabbed her by the hair and stood her up, forcing her into the truck. The door slammed shut behind her like a coffin lid. Lying in the dirt, catatonic, she watched the sky lighten. The two men worked laboriously, digging a hole in the ground next to her. She was certain they were still in the park, but had no idea where. She thought they would go back to camp, but instead drove to the bottom of a wide ravine. What they had done next was unspeakable. It had lasted for what seemed like hours. She could still feel their hot breath on her neck, still heard the whispers of pleasure. There had been pain and violation, but she felt disconnected from it, like she was watching it from afar. When they had finished, they argued about what to do with her. She just laid there, numb. Gray huffed and stopped digging, throwing his shovel up on the flat ground. The hole was nearly up to his neck. He pulled himself up as Blue finished. Gray stood over her, studying her. He prodded her in the ribs with his boot. She didn’t move. He kicked harder, but she remained still. He laughed to himself, turning back to Blue. “We broke her,” He said. She snapped back to reality. His words bounced around her skull. We

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