Two weekends ago, I went to the Blue Mountains with some friends - one of those spontaneous things people do to unburden themselves of any stress they may be facing. In this case, we had been trying to throw off the weight of studying for our end of semester exams at UWI. It seemed I could not study enough; there was always something more to learn, something I had missed in one or other of my course outlines. So when Gillian, my best friend, threw down her economics book in the flatlet I rented one morning at about 3:00 and wildly suggested we go camping, without a second thought I jumped at the idea. Never mind that I had never been camping before; I was simply raring to go to any place that would take me away - no matter how briefly - from the head-raising ritual of cramming for exams. Our boyfriends agreed eagerly once we broached the idea; possibly they looked at the trip as the perfect time to get lucky.

It did not turn out badly; I enjoyed every moment we rented a cabin, we all opted to sleep outside at nights. The novelty of lighting a camp fire and sitting around it telling stories! I especially enjoyed the nights.

Yes, we told stories, and yes, my boyfriend and I snuck away to neck. But it was the moments spent lying on my back while the others slept, staring up at the stars strewn across the night sky, which made a lasting impression. With nothing between me and the dew-kissed grass but my sleeping bag, I cherished every moment. There were no exams looming in the shadows - nothing but the stars, the crescent moon and its peek-a-boo game, the towering trees, silhouettes rimming the night sky, the rich smell of the earth and the woodsy mountain air.

That had been it: nature in all its glory. There had been no high-rise buildings, no glaring street lights or impatiently honking horns to interrupt the serenity. I had considered myself lucky and had fallen asleep with beauty dancing on my eyelids. There was something greater than me, and I could do anything.

Now once again, I was close to the Earth. But I had never been this close while I lay on the Blue Mountains. Now I felt like I was a part of this Earth. I wanted to be a part of this Earth. There was no star-speckled night sky to offer me solace. Here, the rain-drenched air had left the sky black and menacing, a vast blackness that hung ominously low. I wanted to hide from this sky, to curl within myself. But the pain that throbbed through me reminded me that that was impossible.

My body was an aching mess. My semi-naked skin prickled as a chilly breeze swept over me. I could smell the freshly washed earth, but it did nothing for me. I could feel anonymous stones piercing my side, my arm and leg, as I lay, thrown down on the dirt-rutted path. I felt tiny feet running across my face and did nothing to brush them away. I felt the tears that had dried on my face, and drew in a shuddering breath.

There was no 'something greater', after all. If there had been, it would have stopped those hands from dragging me into these bushes. The smell of blood was distinct: a sharp, rusty smell. My blood tasted salty and vague at the same time.

His panting form had been excited by my writhing protests. My jaw ached from the fist that stopped my brief scream. His smell returned - a smell of stale sweat, mingled with my fear, and his triumph. Nothing greater had appeared as his ripping of my clothes echoed. Even my fear dissipated in those surreal moments.

I could not stop the inevitable. With tears unchecked, I accepted the pounding force above me, the form that would remain faceless, nameless. It cast itself in my mind as an energy reeking of stale liquor, sweat and lust. I accepted the parting kick in my side. Then I lay and listened as the force departed.

As I lay on my side, I thought of Evan, my boyfriend. We would never be the same. I thought of Gillian and her boyfriend and my other friends and I saw the wall I would erect. I thought of the pain and shame which was mine alone.

I could not share it. I could not bear the eyes. I should have not been walking so late. I should have gone home once I saw those heavy clouds instead of hanging back in the library studying while torrential rain fell. I should have asked someone to follow me home. There were so many things I should have done. Now I had to rise and face this.

I saw myself: a girl going through the motions, remembering that night in the Blue Mountains when she had felt something greater and wondering where it had been when she was left raw.

Yet, even as I thought these things, I heard voices and laughter nearing the place where I lay. Therewere some young woman among this bunch, and a grudging thought entered my mind. No hands had snatched away these girls' future; they would have carefree days.

I raised myself onto my elbow, ignoring the stabs of pain. For now, this group of oblivious souls would have to do. When they were almost upon me, I said: 'Help me.'

The events described in the above story are fictional.

- Melissa McKenzie