For the past couple days I had been writing a scene that was a rape scene. It was extremely hard to right because I know these characters so well and I feel so close to them, even the one doing the violating. I felt really angry that it was happening but I had to write it because it's part of the story. I had no choice. The pencil had a mind of it's own and my fingers were just there to hold it up! It's true! I was sitting there completely disgusted with what was going on paper but equally powerless to do anything about it! I don't have much, if any, say in what goes on paper except in terms of some minor word or phrase choices and such. As a fiction writer I'm very much under a dictatorship, a slave to the story. The story has a life of it's own. It's like a parent and child. The parent brings the kid into the world and provides for them until they can provide for themselves but they never own the child, although some parents think they do! The child always has it's own consciousness, it's own identity, which is theirs and theirs alone. Often parents don't like or agree with their child's choices but it's there child's life, right? And if a parent tries to control a child's life, especially after adulthood, it's a recipe for disaster!
It's works the same way with writing fiction. I was truly sicked by that scene but if I omitted it the story would be incomplete. My house of cards, and writing fiction is exactly like building a house of cards, would not stand. So, I had to bite the bullet, which I did, and write the scene. I'm glad it's done though. However, I know there's more painful scenes ahead but there's more uplifting scenes, too. I guess that's life. You take the good with the bad and, hopefully, learn from all of it in the end.