Still working on this one...I'll be posting more chapters as I write them. :) As always, critique and comments are appreciated!


Chapter One

Leaves whirl around me like snow, caught up in the rhythm of the light breeze. Cool air nips at me, thousands of tiny bites all over my flesh. The grass under my feet is frozen, crackling and crunching as I walk up the tiny hill. When I reach the top, I stop for the first time to appreciate the view.

There are so many trees, globs of different colors—red, orange, yellow, and many in between. From here, you can see the gentle curves of the many hills and mountains, elegant in their very form. After appreciating this beautiful, peaceful sight, I turn to my daughter behind me.

The headstone on her tiny grave is small, smoothly polished marble. It’s a delicate shade of silver, looking as if it has a slight glow in the light of the setting sun. Her name is carved gracefully in big, loopy letters, her birth and death date tiny underneath.

Danielle Moon
Born October 20th, 2007
Died October 20th, 2007

I crouch down, carefully tracing her name with my index finger, pausing on the last letter of my own last name. I feel a hand on my shoulder, warm against my skin. Coming to my feet, I turn into Julian’s arms, breathing in his comforting scent.

“I’m not ready for this,” I whisper into his shirt, and he tightens his arms around me in response. “I don’t think I ever will be.”

Julian loosens his grip on me, holding me at arm’s length. He studies my face carefully before gently touching his lips to mine.

“You said it yourself,” he says quietly. “We can get through this. Soon that sub-human bastard will be in jail for life, out of all our lives forever.”

I bite my bottom lip, fidgeting nervously. “Yeah, Julian, about that…I don’t think…I mean…” I begin to stutter, finally giving up and not saying anything at all.

“What?” he says sharply, piercing my eyes with his own—only making me even more nervous. Looking at my feet, I take a deep breath before beginning to speak very quickly.

“I really don’t think I can go through with pressing charges, I don’t want to relive it all over again in court, and I just…don’t want to.”

I fall silent, waiting for a response. When I don’t receive one, I steal a glance and wince at the sight of Julian’s cold expression.

“Madison.”

I don’t look up. “Yes?”

He steps forward, placing his hand on my chin and lifting my face until I have no choice but to look at him dead on. His expression has changed, now. Now he looks tired, worn out after a long journey.

“You can’t do this. You can’t let him get away with this.”

“But I can,” I say, my voice small. “They believed me, at the hospital. When I said that I fell.”

“Maybe they did believe you, but that doesn’t undo the damage that has been done.”

When I don’t respond, Julian sighs, adding to his exhausted appearance.

“Maddy. He beat the living shit out of you. More than once.”

I wince.

“He raped you. Also more than once.”

I suck in a breath. I feel sick, like I do every time I hear that word. I feel a burning sensation in my throat, and something much like the desire to scream until my throat bleeds.

“And worse yet--he murdered your daughter. Those are the three worst things ANYONE can do, Mads.”

I’m wringing my hands for vigorously now, anything that might serve as something other than the bruised feeling in my stomach and chest to focus on.

“Maddy, please…”

Still, I remain silent, and it becomes clear that neither of us have anything more to contribute to the matter. With that, we silently begin the walk back to Julian’s car to head home, his hand clinging to mine like life support.

Chapter Two

The warmth of Julian’s apartment is welcoming after the chilly air of the outdoors. As we come inside I shrug out of my coat, laying it neatly on the arm of his couch, where my little sister sits, her eyes focused on the book in her hands.

“Hey, Maddy,” Rain says in a distracted tone. “Lily’s taking her evening nap, she already ate dinner.”

“Thanks, Rain,” Julian says, taking off his own coat and pulling up a kitchen chair. “We couldn’t have gone out without you to watch her. With that cold of her’s, I don’t think she’d take the temperature outside very well.”

“No problem,” she replies calmly, carefully marking her place and setting the book aside. “She was an angel, as always.”

Even though I’ve been home for a few months now, sometimes it still stuns me how strikingly gorgeous my thirteen year old sister is. Her rich, silky hair is tied back in a sloppy ponytail, and she’s wearing a simple gray t-shirt and blue jeans—still, she looks amazing.

My first thought is that I’m going to need a baseball bat. A big, metal one. One that can crack the skulls of any guy that looks at her for more than a glance.

“So, Rain, are you staying the night?” I ask, sitting down next to her on the couch.

“I suppose that would be alright,” she replies casually, though I can tell she’s pleased to have been invited.

I feel a stab of regret at Rain’s simple pleasure to be with me. How could I have cast my family aside so easily?

I shake my head, trying to fling my guilt out of my mind. What’s done is done--I can change anything now. But no matter how easily I can shake the guilt from my mind, it doesn’t unclench from my heart.
******

I watch the sun rise over the mountains in the distance from the window next to the bed Julian and I share. So much for sleep. I roll out of bed, taking great care not to wake Julian or Lily, both still fast asleep.

I grab a pair of jeans and put them on before creeping out of the bedroom door. I check on Rain in the living room--also fast asleep, curled up on the couch. I slip into a coat and shoes before venturing into the chilly air of a fall morning.

I play with my breath in the air as I walk briskly down the side walk, attempting the impossible feat of forming a perfect O. After entertaining myself with this as I wander down the street for about ten minutes, I reach a cozy corner café and end up almost sprinting to get to the sure warmth as soon as possible.

The warm air hits me like a wall, the scent of coffee and bagels strong. After enjoying the atmosphere for a moment, I order a coffee at the counter and take it to a little table-for-one in the corner.

I’ve almost completely drained my coffee when the café door opens again and a young couple enters. My body turns to ice, but not because of the cold outside air that invaded the building.

Blake approaches the counter and orders two whole wheat bagels, one coffee, and a latte. He pays with his credit card and when his order is ready, he carries it back to a table where the girl he entered with is waiting patiently.

The girl looks young--couldn’t be much older than fifteen years old. Dirty blonde hair ripples down her back, a few stray strands framing her thin face. Her icy blue eyes are large and carry an innocent, almost frightened look. She’s tiny, about as small as I am--and I stand at only five feet even. Her timid air diminishes completely when Blake approaches her--all shyness drowned out by her radiant, adoring grin. The same way I know I must have looked back then.

I can’t stand the sight any longer. I run to the restroom, throw up, and hide in the stall for the rest of the morning.



Chapter Three

“This is why you’ve got to report this, Maddy,” Julian says, stroking my hair consolingly. After hiding in the café’s restroom for a couple of hours, I finally felt that it was safe to leave and immediately rushed home. I ran into the house, reporting the entire story so quickly and in such a strained voice that Julian asked me to repeat myself twice.

“It never occurred to me that he’d do this to someone else,” I whisper, looking up. “She was so small, she‘s just a kid,” I continue, my voice cracking. “He could snap her in two.”

Julian holds me tighter, seeming to be at a loss for words. I lie my head on his chest, falling into the rhythm of his breathing and attempting to match my breath patterns with his.

***

“I’ll see you soon, Rainy,” I say, giving her a parting embrace on her and mom’s doorstep.

“See you soon,” Rain repeats, hugging me one last time before retreating into her home.

I walk back to Julian’s car at the slowest pace possible without his noticing--I know where we’re going next, whether I like it or not.

And sure enough, as soon as I slide into the passenger seat and click my seatbelt, Julian turns to me.

“You know the longer you wait, the harder it will be to convict him.”

I exhale, shutting my eyes tight, trying to make myself disappear. When it doesn’t work, I simply nod, and the car is in motion.

***

The police station has a haunted air, convicts and the accused entering, waiting, falling apart before being cast into the human-garbage disposal that is prison. As I open my car door, I can feel the agony of the wrongly accused, the anger of the convicts, and the sorrow of victims all weighing me down. It’s as if I’m trying to walk through quick-sand, fighting all these lingering emotions.

Julian reaches for my hand as we walk up the steps of the station, but I, lacking the desire for comfort or even human contact at the moment, keep my hands clenched into tight fists. He doesn’t seem to react--he simply allows his arm to fall limp at his side--but I’m sure the rejection shows in his eyes. Even knowing this, I refuse to face him.

When we enter, I feel like a little kid, lost in the vastness of the Earth. I haven’t a clue where to go, and I’m not exactly in a hurry to talk to the police. But Julian, apparently sensing my confusion, approaches a woman at a desk and speaks with her. After a moment he returns to me, gently grabbing my arm and guiding me to a small waiting area.

Julian and I only have to wait about five minutes before a man in a sheriff’s uniform approaches us.

“Hello, I’m Officer Greenly. You must be Ms. Moon?”

I can feel my throat closing up, choking on my words, so I just nod. He gestures for us to follow him, and leads us to a small questioning room, occupied by a messy desk with a chair behind it, and one chair in front of it.

“I’m sorry,” Greenly says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Only the alleged victim may be in the room during questioning. We can’t risk any outside influences interfering with the questioning,”

Wait…what?

“I understand,” Julian says calmly, stepping back and gesturing for me to go ahead.

I stare at him, wounded by his calm attitude. In my own mind, I’m panicking, frantically trying to think of any other solution than this even as I follow the officer into the tiny room.

I can feel the panic attack coming on even before Greenly has a chance to sit down. The cold begins at my fingertips and crawls up my arms and through out the rest of my body. I sit, and by the time Greenly clicks on a little old-fashioned tape recorder, I’m shaking all over.

“Please state your name for my records, Miss,” Greenly says mechanically; it’s obvious he does this many times each day.

“Madison Bethany Moon,” I manage in an even tone.

“Thank you. You may continue now with your complete claim. Make sure to include the name of the person you are accusing.”

I stay silent for several minutes, but the officer simply waits patiently. Then, in one long rush, I recite every negative incident that had occurred involving Blake since the day we met.

As I continue on with my story, the shaking becomes more and more violent with each minute that passes. Sometimes Greenly helps me finish sentences that I am unable to. But other than that, he is silent. By the time I finish, ending with the death of my daughter, I’m not only shaking. I’ve now broken out in a cold sweat, my heart is pounding, and I’m struggling to breath.

Officer Greenly jots down a few notes, and asks me a few questions--what hospital I went to when Danielle died, if I had been to the doctor for previous injuries caused by the abuse (yes), and whether or not he had permission to access my medical records. After signing a few consent papers, he said I could go sit in the waiting room.

I practically throw myself at Julian when I finally reach him, feeling my own muscles relax for the first time since the questioning began. As he holds me my panic slowly begins to ease away; first my breathing regulates, then the shaking stops, and I don’t feel so cold anymore. I bury my face in his shirt, closing my eyes and trying to hold on to this feeling of relief for as long as possible.

Chapter Four

After my panic attack subsided, I didn’t speak to Julian the entire trip home. I didn’t glance his way when he tried to speak to me, I pulled away when he tried to touch me. After a while, seeming to get the hint, he stopped trying. That is, until we got home.

“Maddy,” he says in an aggravated tone as we walk through the front door. “Don’t you think this silence has gone on long enough?”

I turn to him, staring blankly for a few seconds before continuing into the house.

“Obviously not,” I hear him mutter, even more annoyed than before.

I sit down on the couch in the den, watching Julian pace the house angrily, his frustration becoming so heated that I have to take my coat off. I wait expectantly for five more minutes before he finally explodes.

“Why the hell won’t you even speak to me?” He says, his voice rising with each syllable. I continue to stare at him blankly, knowing good and well that this will make him angrier still.

“God damn it, Madison!” Julian whirls around, ceases his pacing. His voice is louder than I’ve ever heard from him, and when he takes an angry step towards me, I flinch, sinking back in my seat.

Julian stops dead in his tracks, his expression wounded. “See!” he shrieks even louder, his voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. “This is what he’s done to you! I can’t even be angry without scaring you! And you don’t even want to see him punished for it!”

“Julian,” I whisper pleadingly. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down!” Julian chuckles, clearly unamused. “Do you think this is easy for me? You think that it doesn’t hurt me to see you hurt?”

“Julian…”

“No! I’m not going to be quiet about this any more!” Julian stomps his foot angrily, giving him the appearance of an indignant child. “All our lives, I’ve kept your secrets! I didn’t tell Social Services when your dad beat the shit out of you as a kid. I ignored your bruises as if they were normal. I kept my mouth shut when you started covering your wrists with scabs. I didn’t say a word when you drank yourself senseless and took pills that you got from some strange person. But I’m finished staying silent! I’m not going to just stand by and watch you suffer anymore!”

“Julian…” I try again, but this time he ignores me completely.

“I want Blake punished! I want him to hurt as badly as he hurt you,” Julian begins the sentence still yelling, and gently digresses to a whisper. “He’s a bastard…he’s scum…he doesn’t even deserve to be alive, he--”

“You’re just as bad as he is!” I shriek, not thinking before I speak--I just let the words come as they like.

“W-what?” Julian stutters, taken aback.

“The worst thing that Blake ever did to me,” I say quietly, feeling the tears in my head but not on my skin. “Was take away my ability to choose. He took away my control. I had no say in what happened to me, or what I did.”

My voice begins to crack, but, determined, I continue. “I never knew what would happen to me, whether I’d be hit o-or held down. With you,” I say, my voice becoming accusing. “You…you don’t let me decide when to talk about it. I didn’t get to decide if I was ready to go to the police. You took away my decision, too,” I fall quiet, absorbing the reality of what I just said. Feeling dazed, I look up at Julian to see the effect of my words.

Julian’s skin is as white as freshly fallen snow. His eyes are glazed over, seeming to stare past me. As if on auto-pilot, he turns away from me, and walks out the front door.

Chapter Five

The impatient shriek of the house phone pulls me, reluctantly, out of my dreams. I wipe the tears and sleep from my eyes and answer the phone.

“Hello?” I question in a fake honey-tone.

“Hey, Mads,” Julian says carefully, and my heart jumps into my throat. I have so many things I want to ask--where is he? Is he alright? When is he coming home?

I bite my tongue, and settle on an equally careful, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way home,” Julian says gently. He then adds, with a touch of casualty, “Do want me to get anything? I picked up Lily from my mom’s place, and I think she’s hinting at Micky D’s.”

As if on cue, I hear Lily’s playful whine in the back round. “I’m hun-ga-way!”

I smile in spite of myself. “I think I’m okay, but thank you for asking,” I pause before adding, “Julian, about before…”

“No, not now,” he cuts me off, his voice exhausted. “We can talk when I get home, alright?”

I nod, then, remembering that physical gestures mean nothing over phone lines, say “Okay.”

“I love you,” Julian says slowly, stressing each word.

“I love you, too,” I whisper in return, feeling my heart lighten. I hang up the phone, carrying from the small exchange a sense of hope.

*******

Lily soars her greasy French fries over her paper plate, flying them in circles before crash-landing them into a puddle of catsup.

After making sure that she was content with her food in the kitchen, I pull Julian into the den once again. I take a breath to begin speaking, apologizing, but Julian beats me to the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he says firmly. “We both said hurtful things,” his eyes drop to the floor, remembering, only for a second. “But they were also true.”

“No,” I say quickly, feeling tears of guilt and regret springing into my eyes. “Not what I said. I was wrong, you’re not at all like him, it was a gross comparison--”

“Stop it,” he says in an even firmer tone. “What you said…I was wrong, and I know it. I should have never forced you into something you didn’t want to do and that does, on a certain level, put my acts in league with his.”

He takes my hand gently before continuing. “I just hope that, under these particular circumstances, you can understand why I did what I did…and I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course,” I say evenly. “And I hope you can forgive me for not considering your feelings before I acted.”

“Of course,” he echoes, pulling me to him. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and allowing him to hold me until all my tension melts away.


Chapter Six

Lily skips once every three steps as we walk hand in hand, our destination of a wholesome playground in our sights. She pauses after each third step, then carefully takes a leap, calculating whether or not she will lose her balance before acting.

The cool November air laces around our skin, and I bend down to zip up Lily’s jacket. When we reach the playground, she rips her hand from mine, running as fast as her two-year-old legs will carry her towards the swings.

Warmed by the sight of such simple innocence, I sit down gingerly on one of the park benches. The peaceful silence is almost eerie in the heart of the city. I close my eyes, listening to the gentle sounds of absolutely nothing.

The blow to the side of my face felt like coming home to Satan after vacationing in Heaven. Hauntingly familiar. My vision is distorted and blurred from impact, so I close my eyes and wait for verbal violence to begin, as well.

“What the **** did you do?” His tone is low, that same dangerous voice that slithered through my ears before death plagued my body.
“What,” he repeats, “did you ****ing DO?”

Knowing good and well that Blake isn’t looking for an answer, I hold my tongue and pray that Lily’s sight of this is blocked out by the slides.

I had decided to take Lily to the park in the middle of a week-day afternoon, so as to avoid the crowded sidewalks and stranger-danger that comes along with rush hour.

Silly me. I should know better than anyone that the ones you love are far more dangerous to you than a stranger could ever be.

Blake lifts me off the ground by the collar of my jacket, using one hand to lift me and lacing the other around my neck.

“If you don’t drop these ridiculous bullshit charges,” he sneers in that same deadly tone, “I‘ll find all three of you and make you REGRET IT.” Tightening his grip on my throat, he cuts his glace over to the swings, where I know Lily must be standing.

“All three of you,” he repeats, daggers in his tone.

“Honey?” A small, quivering voice questions from behind us.

Blake immediately drops me to the ground and turns towards the source of these words. I inhale deeply, just becoming aware that I was unable to breath under his grip.

When I look up, the same girl from the coffee shop wraps her hand tentatively around one of his. She appears smaller and younger than ever before, a large pair of sunglasses failing to hide bruises rung around her already dark eyes. When she speaks again, her voice is even shakier.

“Honey, come on, let’s go…”

Seemingly softened, Blake gives me one more dangerous glare before allowing himself to be led back to a car parked a few yards away.

“Mommy?”

It hurts my heart to hear such a beautiful sound in the wake of such an ugly incident. “Hey, baby,” I reply weakly, opening my arms that are quickly filled by Lily’s quivering body.

“You about ready to go home?” I ask casually, hoping to play off the violence this toddler has just witnessed as insignificant.

She nods silently, reaching for me as I stagger to my feet. I lift her gently, and begin the walk home, wondering where I’ll end up by tomorrow morning.

Chapter Seven

When we return home, Julian is still at work, and I breath in the relief of the empty silence. As I lie an exhausted Lily into her crib, reality overwhelms me; I have no choice but to leave home.

I stroke my would-be child’s hair gently, grieving a life with a family lost and promises shattered.

For the most part, the adults of the world consider a child’s emotions to be inferior to their own. Besides, what could possibly trouble one who has not yet endured the stresses of the economic world, who lives completely dependent on guardians that cater to your every want and need?

That, I suppose, is where the tragedy lies. When a being who has seen only a fraction of the years of an adult has already experienced trauma that elders will never know. Parents shut off awareness of their child’s ability to feel and comprehend, because it seems too tragic to bare--when they might as well sentence them to a lifetime of heartbreak themselves.

That was the promise I made to both Lily and Danielle. I would speculate every whine and every cry, kiss every injury, no matter how small. I would shelter them from the scarring, abnormal situations that plague so many. At the same time, I would teach them to be confident in themselves and in their independence, so they would never rely so much on others that companionship stained with abuse and hurt was better than having no one at all.

I promised that, on behalf of every child that grew up in a broken home where attention was scarce. On behalf of every girl who sleeps with her arms crossed over her stomach and chest, only to protect herself from an intrusion that has already taken place. On behalf of every child that has vocalized a desire for help, but has failed to be heard. On behalf of every child that battles nightmares on a regular basis.

On behalf of every child who feels invisible, I promised to listen.

On behalf of every child who has endured trauma, I promised to protect.

And, only two years into Lily’s life, I have failed her.

The melody of Julian’s car backing into the driveway is my exiting cue. I kiss Lily’s head lightly, grab my purse that holds my few belongings, and sneak out the back door.

Chapter Eight

As the sun begins to set, I pull my jacket closer to myself to block out the cool evening air. The figure of a rickety, old wooden bridge is outlined by the orange-pink glow in the distance.

I begin to regret the note I left for Julian before leaving home--I should have just disappeared, leaving no trace that I was even there. At the same time, he needed some sort of warning of Blake’s threat.

Julie,
Ran into Him today. Lily saw Him hit me, may be scared. Threatened to hurt her or you. Can’t stay. I’ll always love you both.

I didn’t bother signing it.

*****

I climb over the edge of the bridge, seating myself gently on the railing. The river below me roars with the cool wind that hints at Winter.

I’m within walking distance of my childhood home. Whenever our parents began to argue and Dad threw the first punch, Evan would always bring me and Rain here. No matter how badly he wanted to stay and defend our mother, he always put us first. If things didn’t improve at home, sometimes we’d sleep here under the stars, the three of us, together.

Needless to say, this bridge is now a safe-haven of mine.

I swing my legs back over the railing, standing myself onto the bridge again. I watch the rapids becoming more angry with the increasing wind, and contemplate where I go from here.

I know of one Women’s Shelter several blocks from here. I could sleep here on the bridge, as I have so many times before--but that would hold a risk of hypothermia on a cool, almost-winter night like tonight. But what would that matter, anyway?

I paced, pondering for nearly an hour. Finally, I curled up on the worn, slightly rotten wood, unsure of when or even if I’d awake again.


Chapter Nine

Everything is blurry when I wake up the next morning. I attempt to roll onto my back, only to find my limbs incapable of moving. I shut my eyes tightly, holding back a cry as my frozen muscles contract angrily. They cramp again, and a short-lived scream escapes me.

Hours later, after the sun has risen in the sky, I warm enough to prop myself up against the bridge railing. I breath in deeply, my exhale shakey and irregular. My stomach growls viciously, and nausea rolls over me, threatening to empty my tummy of what little content was left after twenty four hours with no food or water. Sure enough, minutes later I turn myself as much as I can and throw up over the edge of the bridge.

I continue to fade in and out of consciousness, each time I’m awake becoming more and more aware of the hopeless situation I’ve put myself in. I continue this torturous pattern ‘till dawn the next day.

***

As the sun rises over the violet mountains, basking me in golden light, I slowly pull myself to my feet, gripping the rail for support. After a few hours, I become steady enough on my feet to venture back into the city, though my aching muscles protest violently with occasional spasms and cramps.

I have to walk sixteen blocks to reach the Women’s Shelter, each step a little more painful than the last. When I finally reach my destination, I am greeted with warm air that smells like tomato soup, and a smiling, peppy young volunteer at the front desk.

“How can I help you today, miss?” She asks sweetly, giving me a once-over glance.

“I need a place to sleep,” I manage, my voice rusty from lack of use, even more so due to a sore throat.

“Certainly!” She replies brightly, and I step back, worried that she’s going to burst from excitement.

She takes down some basic information--my name, age, race, and where I’m from, with a promise that no one has privy to my information except for her and the staff, and that it may possibly be used for statistical information. She explains further that no one that comes looking for me will be told of my whereabouts, and that for all the rest of the world knows, I am not even here.

With that, I am led to a tiny cot, given a warm bowl of soup and two asprin. I down the soup and the asprin in record time, and fall asleep, mercifully, mere minutes after.

Chapter Ten

I sleep for two days, and my battered body heals for the most part. I sit up, still a little weak, but surely capable of walking and normal activity.

I fish in my purse until I find my wallet. I check its contents; my ID, social security, a few expired coupons, a picture of Julian pushing Lily on a swing, $143 and seventy three cents. I take out the picture, setting down my wallet and holding the photo with both hands, as if it might shatter.

Julian’s beautiful hazel eyes reflect his grin, and Lily’s are closed, though she too is smiling with pure delight. I think again of how perfect they are together; two fitting pieces to a family puzzle. I can see him preparing her for her first day of school; packing her lunches; driving her to sporting games; helping her with homework; taking her picture on prom night; holding her after her first heartbreak, and vowing to inflict bodily harm on whoever hurt her; smiling up at her at her high school graduation; walking her down the aisle on her wedding day…

Too much of a future lies within those grins. Too much more happiness and love resides in these two beings to be intruded upon by anyone, even God or the Devil themselves.

I will not allow that bond to be broken.

I gather my things and walk out of the shelter. I pass the overly-peppy volunteer on my way to the door, who warns that she cannot save my bed for me. “But don’t hesitate to return,” she adds. “I can always get you in touch with another shelter if we run out of room.”

I nod and thank her before continuing on my way.


********

Never in my life have I considered homicide as an option.

Something as minor as squishing bugs has always repulsed me. Who the hell are we, the human race, to decide the fate of others? Just because one has power doesn’t mean that one should use it in such a way. Having power doesn’t make you a God.

But somehow, I felt calm and at peace as I walked into the shady down-town shop, Blades of Glory, scanning all the knives and guns laid out before me. I searched in silence before finding a gleaming pistol, lying passively in a glass box.

I consulted a shady, buff-looking character who had been watching me carefully from behind the counter.

“Erm, look, lady, we’re not permitted to actually SELL weapons here, only to display them,” he recited, something he read off to interested customers often. I was ready to resign and walk away without question, when the man muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“Well, um, you’re a pretty cute little number…how much you got?”

I flashed a fifty dollar bill, watching the man’s eyes light up with pure…greed.
“For this pretty little thing?” he said, gesturing to the pistol I had been eyeing. “You’re gonna have to cough up a bit more than that, honey. Unless you have something else to offer?” he raised his eyebrows, and I felt my stomach clench with fear and repulsion--at myself, this situation, and what he was suggesting.

Instead, I matched the fifty with it’s twin, and he handed me the gun and ammo. Considering what little knowledge I held of guns and how to use them, I batted my eyelashes and asked questions casually, gushing how HE’S the kind of man who would know how to wield a gun. Taking the bait, squaring his shoulders proudly, he proceeded to explain the basics of loading, cocking, and shooting the pistol.

I thanked him deeply, winking and casually suggesting that I might return, and got the hell out of there.

Chapter Eleven

Using my new knowledge of gun handling, I carefully loaded the pistol in the dark of an alley a few blocks away from the store. I clicked on the safety, stowed the gun away in my purse, and continued walking.

*****
I have no real intention of killing Blake.

No, I knew from the second I walked into that shady little shop that I would probably never use whatever weapon I chose to purchase. But it felt nice, the weight of the gun by my side as I walked through down-town. I had a new sense of confidence, of strength. Although I have never once fired a gun, although I have no plan to, the option is there, waiting for me. Waiting like a parent at home with the lights on. Reliable. Patient. Safe.

I suddenly feel a surge of longing. I need to see my daughter. I turned my course towards the graveyard.


Chapter Twelve

Night had fallen quickly, and soon I was straining to see in the dark. Still, I knew this path by heart, and wasn’t slowed down by a lack of light.

The grass crunched under my feet, sprinkled with diamond frost. I raised my gaze to see a sky filled with dark, billowed snow clouds, and began to wonder what day it was. Christmas was fast approaching, last I checked. Was it Christmas Eve? A white Christmas could be waiting when Lily opens her eyes tomorrow morning. This thought warmed me through my frost bite.

As I walked, I began to hear voices, and slowed. I looked ahead, and, making out two figures at the top of the hill where Danielle’s grave lies, listened.

“I’m so sorry,” a female voice said softly, strained with true anguish. “I can’t believe you didn’t even get to see her.”

“Neither can I,” a male voice replied, in a similar anguished tone. I recognized that voice, and sucked in my breath.

“All this, just because your girlfriend fell?” the female asks, her silhouette reaching out to touch His soothingly.

His silhouette nods solemnly. “I have reason to believe she was using drugs, as well, but nothing concrete,” He adds.

“Oh,” she says sadly. “How awful.”

“I would have loved Danielle so much,” He says wistfully, and I feel hatred rise within me. How DARE He speak her name?

“I know you would,” the female sooths again. “I know you do.”

She leans forward to kiss Him, and I feel another stomach clench, this one threatening vomit.

“Thank you for coming here,” He says, in a voice that anyone who doesn’t know Him would consider earnest. “It means a lot.”

“Of course, my love,” she coos in return. “Anything.”

They embrace, then part, whispering romantic farewells that I don’t bother to hear. Then, in no time at all, Blake is upon me.

Chapter Thirteen

“Did you enjoy eavesdropping, you psycho bitch?” He growls, coming far too close for comfort. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

I’m surprised when I’m able to find my voice, and can speak in an even, calm tone. “You have no business here. You have no right to be anywhere near my daughter. Please leave.”

“You’ve got to be ****ing kidding me,” He mutters, taking another uncomfortable step forward. “She’s dead. She’s not your kid. She’s a corpse. Under ground. Buried. DEAD. Don’t you understand that? You KILLED her.”

My very blood has frozen in place, my organs cease to operate. “I…I d-didn’t kill h-her,” I stumble over the words, my tongue feeling stiff and frozen like the rest of me. “Y-you did.”

“YOU pushed me over the edge,” he says slowly, emphasizing every word painfully. “YOU didn’t keep to your place. I may have delivered the fatal blow, but you were the catalyst.”

Stricken, I clench my fists so tight that my nails dig into the flesh of my palm. Blake only laughs. “What’re you going to do, baby? Hit me? Try it.”

Baby.

Baby Madison.

Little submissive Madison.

Little pacifist Madison.

Good old forgiving Madison.

The doormat.

The bleeding heart.

No more.

NO MORE.

I reach into my purse. Blake reaches to grab my wrist, but I’m too quick for him. “Oh, no, mother ****er,” I murmur. “Not this time.”

I aim the gun straight towards his chest, clicking off the safety.

Chapter Fourteen

“Madison,” Blake whispers easily. “Come on, now. Take it easy, neither of us want--”

“Take it easy?” I sputter, feeling a hysteric laugh creeping up the back of my throat. I let it loose, and oh, does it feel good.
“I’m not taking it easy anymore, Blake,” I snicker. I feel like I’m in third-person, watching myself from high in the sky, shaking my head vigorously at my own bravery. But I continue anyway, high on the weight of the gun in my hand and the power it contains.

My voice changes, taking on my serious tone once again. “Not anymore. I have had ENOUGH.” I’m screaming in his face now, unable to contain myself any longer. “You hear me? ENOUGH. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!” I wield the gun wildly, finding satisfaction in the beads of sweat forming on Blake’s face.

It’s then that every negative feeling comes storming through me, a flash show of tears and pain and hate.

You’re worthless. Nothing without me.

I don’t want you to get too attached to this thing.

Whore.

Psycho bitch.

All three of you will pay.

Please, don’t cry.

I love you.

YOU were the catalyst.

Seven Emergency Room visits. Twenty-seven emergency Doctor’s appointments. Countless nights screaming, either from nightmares occurring during sleep or waking hours. I always said no. NO, NO NO NO! My wrists always had hand-shaped bruises. Black eyes. I crept around my own home in constant fear. My baby stopped kicking my tummy, when He kicked harder…

ENOUGH.

I push the pistol right against his temple. “You know what?” I breathed into his ear, relishing in my so long desired, pure, one-hundred percent control. I watch his face go pale, his color fleeing from the danger I have presented. “You were abusive.” I’m still piecing everything together in my head, spitting it as I figure it out. “And you know what else? You’re a ****ing rapist.”

I feel tears in my eyes, sobs in my chest, but suppress them. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand, huh? I SAID NO. Why didn’t you stop?” He is silent, so I press further, increasing the pressure of the barrel to his skull. “Why?” I can’t help but sound a little pleading, a little helpless. I grip a hold on myself, knowing very well that I must keep cool or risk my life.

He remains silent, so I continue, feeling something I’ve never felt before…

I am ANGRY. No, I’m pissed. ENRAGED, even.

“Is that what you have to do, then?” My voice is shaking with hysterics again. “Beat up on women and little children? Is that the best you can possibly do?” He’s staring straight at the ground, and that angers me even more. I slide the gun to right in between his eyes. “Look at me,” I growl.

I hear far off footsteps, but I don’t break his gaze, boring into mine. His eyes project the same emotions I’m so in touch with; intimidation; submission; and pure fear.

I cock the gun, ready to fire straight into that bastard of a skull.

“Christ, Maddy!”

Everything else happens quickly. Julian loops his arms between mine, causing the gun to fall, forgotten, to the ground. Blake is handcuffed and read his rights. I’m being gently escorted to a cop car, driven down town to be questioned about the night’s events and the other charges Blake faces. I give short, direct answers, keeping silent for the most part.

******
Honestly, I’m relieved that help arrived in time to keep me from firing that gun. I’ve never wanted…never even wished…someone would die before. Not even Blake. But everything changed tonight. I’ve changed.

Damn it, I’ll say it again; I have had enough.


Chapter fifteen

Lily’s eyes sparkle on Christmas morning, brighter, I bet, than all the other children in the world put together.

She gasps and giggles at every new toy, even appreciative of the new clothes, something a two year old rarely desires. Julian and I watched this process, cuddling and taking photos of our beautiful child…our child.

After she falls asleep in a puddle of toys and Christmas glee, I move on to begin to cook dinner. I place the lid on the boiling crock pot definitively, turning to look Julian in the eyes.

“Why do holiday dinners always start cooking at, like, seven in the MORNING?” He asks, raising his eye brows.

“Because they’re SPECIAL,” I reply with playful exasperation. “The best meals always take the longest to prepare.”

“Right,” He says with disbelief. “Whatever you say, love.”

I reach, pulling him to me, and burying my face in his shirt. I breath him in, releasing in my exhale any dwindling anxiety.

“Maddy?” He whispers, with a hint of nervousness. This causes me to look up.

“Yes, dear?”

“Can…can I ask you something?”

I look him in the eyes, straight, dead on, in to his beautiful eyes…

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll marry you.”

“MADISON!” He exclaims, half annoyed, half relieved. “That is NOT how it’s suppose to work.”

“Really?” I smile, teasing. “ I apologize for my ignorance. What IS the correct way, deary?”

“Well, first of all,” He says with a sense of importance. “I’m supposed to get on my knee, like this,” He drops to his knees with a complete lack of grace, pulling my hand down with him.

“Julie,” I whisper, feeling the blood moving to my face, surely giving me a pinkish hue. “Stand up, you don’t have to…”

“NO, I’m going to do this right,” He grins, obviously taking the greatest of pleasures in my discomfort.

“I hate you,” I mutter, but with a smile.
“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your future husband,” He replies coolly. “Now…

Madison Moon, you are the most amazing girl I have ever had the pleasure of knowing…you’re my best friend, and I love loving you. I would like to continue to love you forever. So, I ask you,” --he kisses my hand for good measure--”will you marry me?”

But the ring isn’t that generic, overly-big diamond ring you always see in the movies and read about in books. It’s a simple silver band, sprinkled with specs of Amethyst--my favorite stone.

It seems familiar, somehow…I strain my mind, trying to remember…

“I--” Julian begins.

“In high school,” I interrupt, remembering. “Junior year, I found this in your room…you said you were saving it for someone, but you would never tell me…”

He smiles sheepishly--his turn to go a little pink.

I think my heart just imploded.

“Julie…” I pull him to his feet and lace my arms around him.

“I love you,” He murmurs into my shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have this amazing life, now. I grew up drowned in hate and abuse, only to seek it out in my teenaged and adult life, as well--because it was familiar. It was all I had ever known. Things like affection and love were scarce, like special yearly treats--cuddling was unheard of, for me. Now, I have this amazing family, with a man who wouldn’t hurt me if his life depended on it--with a man who I can fall asleep beside without fear or endangerment. And this child--gorgeous, loving Lily--has seemed to adopt ME, taken me in has a mother--a role I am more than happy to fulfill.

Blake is no longer spoken of. He was charged with multiple accounts of rape and battery, and of manslaughter--sentenced fifteen years in high-security prison, no parole.

I will never forget this man, or how he changed my life. The scars are too deep to fade--I’ll never feel one hundred percent safe again. I have yet to experience any sort of intimacy without trauma attached. I lost my trust, self-worth, sense of security, virginity, and a child to Blake. I have gained through him, as well--without his abuse, Julian and I wouldn’t have been reunited when we were. I wouldn’t have learned all the life lessons I now know, wouldn’t know what it TRULY means to have nothing. I wouldn’t of ever had Danielle, though she is no longer with me…

Though it was more painful that even I can understand now, I am grateful for the life I had--and even more grateful to be blessed with what I have now. I no longer require life support--I can stand on my own, now.

I can stand on my own.

Chapter Eight

As the sun begins to set, I pull my jacket closer to myself to block out the cool evening air. The figure of a rickety, old wooden bridge is outlined by the orange-pink glow in the distance.

I begin to regret the note I left for Julian before leaving home--I should have just disappeared, leaving no trace that I was even there. At the same time, he needed some sort of warning of Blake’s threat.

Julie,
Ran into Him today. Lily saw Him hit me, may be scared. Threatened to hurt her or you. Can’t stay. I’ll always love you both.

I didn’t bother signing it.

*****

I climb over the edge of the bridge, seating myself gently on the railing. The river below me roars with the cool wind that hints at Winter.

I’m within walking distance of my childhood home. Whenever our parents began to argue and Dad threw the first punch, Evan would always bring me and Rain here. No matter how badly he wanted to stay and defend our mother, he always put us first. If things didn’t improve at home, sometimes we’d sleep here under the stars, the three of us, together.

Needless to say, this bridge is now a safe-haven of mine.

I swing my legs back over the railing, standing myself onto the bridge again. I watch the rapids becoming more angry with the increasing wind, and contemplate where I go from here.

I know of one Women’s Shelter several blocks from here. I could sleep here on the bridge, as I have so many times before--but that would hold a risk of hypothermia on a cool, almost-winter night like tonight. But what would that matter, anyway?

I paced, pondering for nearly an hour. Finally, I curled up on the worn, slightly rotten wood, unsure of when or even if I’d awake again.


Chapter Nine

Everything is blurry when I wake up the next morning. I attempt to roll onto my back, only to find my limbs incapable of moving. I shut my eyes tightly, holding back a cry as my frozen muscles contract angrily. They cramp again, and a short-lived scream escapes me.

Hours later, after the sun has risen in the sky, I warm enough to prop myself up against the bridge railing. I breath in deeply, my exhale shakey and irregular. My stomach growls viciously, and nausea rolls over me, threatening to empty my tummy of what little content was left after twenty four hours with no food or water. Sure enough, minutes later I turn myself as much as I can and throw up over the edge of the bridge.

I continue to fade in and out of consciousness, each time I’m awake becoming more and more aware of the hopeless situation I’ve put myself in. I continue this torturous pattern ‘till dawn the next day.

***

As the sun rises over the violet mountains, basking me in golden light, I slowly pull myself to my feet, gripping the rail for support. After a few hours, I become steady enough on my feet to venture back into the city, though my aching muscles protest violently with occasional spasms and cramps.

I have to walk sixteen blocks to reach the Women’s Shelter, each step a little more painful than the last. When I finally reach my destination, I am greeted with warm air that smells like tomato soup, and a smiling, peppy young volunteer at the front desk.

“How can I help you today, miss?” She asks sweetly, giving me a once-over glance.

“I need a place to sleep,” I manage, my voice rusty from lack of use, even more so due to a sore throat.

“Certainly!” She replies brightly, and I step back, worried that she’s going to burst from excitement.

She takes down some basic information--my name, age, race, and where I’m from, with a promise that no one has privy to my information except for her and the staff, and that it may possibly be used for statistical information. She explains further that no one that comes looking for me will be told of my whereabouts, and that for all the rest of the world knows, I am not even here.

With that, I am led to a tiny cot, given a warm bowl of soup and two asprin. I down the soup and the asprin in record time, and fall asleep, mercifully, mere minutes after.

Chapter Ten

I sleep for two days, and my battered body heals for the most part. I sit up, still a little weak, but surely capable of walking and normal activity.

I fish in my purse until I find my wallet. I check its contents; my ID, social security, a few expired coupons, a picture of Julian pushing Lily on a swing, $143 and seventy three cents. I take out the picture, setting down my wallet and holding the photo with both hands, as if it might shatter.

Julian’s beautiful hazel eyes reflect his grin, and Lily’s are closed, though she too is smiling with pure delight. I think again of how perfect they are together; two fitting pieces to a family puzzle. I can see him preparing her for her first day of school; packing her lunches; driving her to sporting games; helping her with homework; taking her picture on prom night; holding her after her first heartbreak, and vowing to inflict bodily harm on whoever hurt her; smiling up at her at her high school graduation; walking her down the aisle on her wedding day…

Too much of a future lies within those grins. Too much more happiness and love resides in these two beings to be intruded upon by anyone, even God or the Devil themselves.

I will not allow that bond to be broken.

I gather my things and walk out of the shelter. I pass the overly-peppy volunteer on my way to the door, who warns that she cannot save my bed for me. “But don’t hesitate to return,” she adds. “I can always get you in touch with another shelter if we run out of room.”

I nod and thank her before continuing on my way.


********

Never in my life have I considered homicide as an option.

Something as minor as squishing bugs has always repulsed me. Who the hell are we, the human race, to decide the fate of others? Just because one has power doesn’t mean that one should use it in such a way. Having power doesn’t make you a God.

But somehow, I felt calm and at peace as I walked into the shady down-town shop, Blades of Glory, scanning all the knives and guns laid out before me. I searched in silence before finding a gleaming pistol, lying passively in a glass box.

I consulted a shady, buff-looking character who had been watching me carefully from behind the counter.

“Erm, look, lady, we’re not permitted to actually SELL weapons here, only to display them,” he recited, something he read off to interested customers often. I was ready to resign and walk away without question, when the man muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“Well, um, you’re a pretty cute little number…how much you got?”

I flashed a fifty dollar bill, watching the man’s eyes light up with pure…greed.
“For this pretty little thing?” he said, gesturing to the pistol I had been eyeing. “You’re gonna have to cough up a bit more than that, honey. Unless you have something else to offer?” he raised his eyebrows, and I felt my stomach clench with fear and repulsion--at myself, this situation, and what he was suggesting.

Instead, I matched the fifty with it’s twin, and he handed me the gun and ammo. Considering what little knowledge I held of guns and how to use them, I batted my eyelashes and asked questions casually, gushing how HE’S the kind of man who would know how to wield a gun. Taking the bait, squaring his shoulders proudly, he proceeded to explain the basics of loading, cocking, and shooting the pistol.

I thanked him deeply, winking and casually suggesting that I might return, and got the hell out of there.

Chapter Eleven

Using my new knowledge of gun handling, I carefully loaded the pistol in the dark of an alley a few blocks away from the store. I clicked on the safety, stowed the gun away in my purse, and continued walking.

*****
I have no real intention of killing Blake.

No, I knew from the second I walked into that shady little shop that I would probably never use whatever weapon I chose to purchase. But it felt nice, the weight of the gun by my side as I walked through down-town. I had a new sense of confidence, of strength. Although I have never once fired a gun, although I have no plan to, the option is there, waiting for me. Waiting like a parent at home with the lights on. Reliable. Patient. Safe.

I suddenly feel a surge of longing. I need to see my daughter. I turned my course towards the graveyard.


Chapter Twelve

Night had fallen quickly, and soon I was straining to see in the dark. Still, I knew this path by heart, and wasn’t slowed down by a lack of light.

The grass crunched under my feet, sprinkled with diamond frost. I raised my gaze to see a sky filled with dark, billowed snow clouds, and began to wonder what day it was. Christmas was fast approaching, last I checked. Was it Christmas Eve? A white Christmas could be waiting when Lily opens her eyes tomorrow morning. This thought warmed me through my frost bite.

As I walked, I began to hear voices, and slowed. I looked ahead, and, making out two figures at the top of the hill where Danielle’s grave lies, listened.

“I’m so sorry,” a female voice said softly, strained with true anguish. “I can’t believe you didn’t even get to see her.”

“Neither can I,” a male voice replied, in a similar anguished tone. I recognized that voice, and sucked in my breath.

“All this, just because your girlfriend fell?” the female asks, her silhouette reaching out to touch His soothingly.

His silhouette nods solemnly. “I have reason to believe she was using drugs, as well, but nothing concrete,” He adds.

“Oh,” she says sadly. “How awful.”

“I would have loved Danielle so much,” He says wistfully, and I feel hatred rise within me. How DARE He speak her name?

“I know you would,” the female sooths again. “I know you do.”

She leans forward to kiss Him, and I feel another stomach clench, this one threatening vomit.

“Thank you for coming here,” He says, in a voice that anyone who doesn’t know Him would consider earnest. “It means a lot.”

“Of course, my love,” she coos in return. “Anything.”

They embrace, then part, whispering romantic farewells that I don’t bother to hear. Then, in no time at all, Blake is upon me.

Chapter Thirteen

“Did you enjoy eavesdropping, you psycho bitch?” He growls, coming far too close for comfort. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

I’m surprised when I’m able to find my voice, and can speak in an even, calm tone. “You have no business here. You have no right to be anywhere near my daughter. Please leave.”

“You’ve got to be ****ing kidding me,” He mutters, taking another uncomfortable step forward. “She’s dead. She’s not your kid. She’s a corpse. Under ground. Buried. DEAD. Don’t you understand that? You KILLED her.”

My very blood has frozen in place, my organs cease to operate. “I…I d-didn’t kill h-her,” I stumble over the words, my tongue feeling stiff and frozen like the rest of me. “Y-you did.”

“YOU pushed me over the edge,” he says slowly, emphasizing every word painfully. “YOU didn’t keep to your place. I may have delivered the fatal blow, but you were the catalyst.”

Stricken, I clench my fists so tight that my nails dig into the flesh of my palm. Blake only laughs. “What’re you going to do, baby? Hit me? Try it.”

Baby.

Baby Madison.

Little submissive Madison.

Little pacifist Madison.

Good old forgiving Madison.

The doormat.

The bleeding heart.

No more.

NO MORE.

I reach into my purse. Blake reaches to grab my wrist, but I’m too quick for him. “Oh, no, mother ****er,” I murmur. “Not this time.”

I aim the gun straight towards his chest, clicking off the safety.

Chapter Fourteen

“Madison,” Blake whispers easily. “Come on, now. Take it easy, neither of us want--”

“Take it easy?” I sputter, feeling a hysteric laugh creeping up the back of my throat. I let it loose, and oh, does it feel good.
“I’m not taking it easy anymore, Blake,” I snicker. I feel like I’m in third-person, watching myself from high in the sky, shaking my head vigorously at my own bravery. But I continue anyway, high on the weight of the gun in my hand and the power it contains.

My voice changes, taking on my serious tone once again. “Not anymore. I have had ENOUGH.” I’m screaming in his face now, unable to contain myself any longer. “You hear me? ENOUGH. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!” I wield the gun wildly, finding satisfaction in the beads of sweat forming on Blake’s face.

It’s then that every negative feeling comes storming through me, a flash show of tears and pain and hate.

You’re worthless. Nothing without me.

I don’t want you to get too attached to this thing.

Whore.

Psycho bitch.

All three of you will pay.

Please, don’t cry.

I love you.

YOU were the catalyst.

Seven Emergency Room visits. Twenty-seven emergency Doctor’s appointments. Countless nights screaming, either from nightmares occurring during sleep or waking hours. I always said no. NO, NO NO NO! My wrists always had hand-shaped bruises. Black eyes. I crept around my own home in constant fear. My baby stopped kicking my tummy, when He kicked harder…

ENOUGH.

I push the pistol right against his temple. “You know what?” I breathed into his ear, relishing in my so long desired, pure, one-hundred percent control. I watch his face go pale, his color fleeing from the danger I have presented. “You were abusive.” I’m still piecing everything together in my head, spitting it as I figure it out. “And you know what else? You’re a ****ing rapist.”

I feel tears in my eyes, sobs in my chest, but suppress them. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand, huh? I SAID NO. Why didn’t you stop?” He is silent, so I press further, increasing the pressure of the barrel to his skull. “Why?” I can’t help but sound a little pleading, a little helpless. I grip a hold on myself, knowing very well that I must keep cool or risk my life.

He remains silent, so I continue, feeling something I’ve never felt before…

I am ANGRY. No, I’m pissed. ENRAGED, even.

“Is that what you have to do, then?” My voice is shaking with hysterics again. “Beat up on women and little children? Is that the best you can possibly do?” He’s staring straight at the ground, and that angers me even more. I slide the gun to right in between his eyes. “Look at me,” I growl.

I hear far off footsteps, but I don’t break his gaze, boring into mine. His eyes project the same emotions I’m so in touch with; intimidation; submission; and pure fear.

I cock the gun, ready to fire straight into that bastard of a skull.

“Christ, Maddy!”

Everything else happens quickly. Julian loops his arms between mine, causing the gun to fall, forgotten, to the ground. Blake is handcuffed and read his rights. I’m being gently escorted to a cop car, driven down town to be questioned about the night’s events and the other charges Blake faces. I give short, direct answers, keeping silent for the most part.

******
Honestly, I’m relieved that help arrived in time to keep me from firing that gun. I’ve never wanted…never even wished…someone would die before. Not even Blake. But everything changed tonight. I’ve changed.

Damn it, I’ll say it again; I have had enough.


Chapter fifteen

Lily’s eyes sparkle on Christmas morning, brighter, I bet, than all the other children in the world put together.

She gasps and giggles at every new toy, even appreciative of the new clothes, something a two year old rarely desires. Julian and I watched this process, cuddling and taking photos of our beautiful child…our child.

After she falls asleep in a puddle of toys and Christmas glee, I move on to begin to cook dinner. I place the lid on the boiling crock pot definitively, turning to look Julian in the eyes.

“Why do holiday dinners always start cooking at, like, seven in the MORNING?” He asks, raising his eye brows.

“Because they’re SPECIAL,” I reply with playful exasperation. “The best meals always take the longest to prepare.”

“Right,” He says with disbelief. “Whatever you say, love.”

I reach, pulling him to me, and burying my face in his shirt. I breath him in, releasing in my exhale any dwindling anxiety.

“Maddy?” He whispers, with a hint of nervousness. This causes me to look up.

“Yes, dear?”

“Can…can I ask you something?”

I look him in the eyes, straight, dead on, in to his beautiful eyes…

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll marry you.”

“MADISON!” He exclaims, half annoyed, half relieved. “That is NOT how it’s suppose to work.”

“Really?” I smile, teasing. “ I apologize for my ignorance. What IS the correct way, deary?”

“Well, first of all,” He says with a sense of importance. “I’m supposed to get on my knee, like this,” He drops to his knees with a complete lack of grace, pulling my hand down with him.

“Julie,” I whisper, feeling the blood moving to my face, surely giving me a pinkish hue. “Stand up, you don’t have to…”

“NO, I’m going to do this right,” He grins, obviously taking the greatest of pleasures in my discomfort.

“I hate you,” I mutter, but with a smile.
“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your future husband,” He replies coolly. “Now…

Madison Moon, you are the most amazing girl I have ever had the pleasure of knowing…you’re my best friend, and I love loving you. I would like to continue to love you forever. So, I ask you,” --he kisses my hand for good measure--”will you marry me?”

But the ring isn’t that generic, overly-big diamond ring you always see in the movies and read about in books. It’s a simple silver band, sprinkled with specs of Amethyst--my favorite stone.

It seems familiar, somehow…I strain my mind, trying to remember…

“I--” Julian begins.

“In high school,” I interrupt, remembering. “Junior year, I found this in your room…you said you were saving it for someone, but you would never tell me…”

He smiles sheepishly--his turn to go a little pink.

I think my heart just imploded.

“Julie…” I pull him to his feet and lace my arms around him.

“I love you,” He murmurs into my shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have this amazing life, now. I grew up drowned in hate and abuse, only to seek it out in my teenaged and adult life, as well--because it was familiar. It was all I had ever known. Things like affection and love were scarce, like special yearly treats--cuddling was unheard of, for me. Now, I have this amazing family, with a man who wouldn’t hurt me if his life depended on it--with a man who I can fall asleep beside without fear or endangerment. And this child--gorgeous, loving Lily--has seemed to adopt ME, taken me in has a mother--a role I am more than happy to fulfill.

Blake is no longer spoken of. He was charged with multiple accounts of rape and battery, and of manslaughter--sentenced fifteen years in high-security prison, no parole.

I will never forget this man, or how he changed my life. The scars are too deep to fade--I’ll never feel one hundred percent safe again. I have yet to experience any sort of intimacy without trauma attached. I lost my trust, self-worth, sense of security, virginity, and a child to Blake. I have gained through him, as well--without his abuse, Julian and I wouldn’t have been reunited when we were. I wouldn’t have learned all the life lessons I now know, wouldn’t know what it TRULY means to have nothing. I wouldn’t of ever had Danielle, though she is no longer with me…

Though it was more painful that even I can understand now, I am grateful for the life I had--and even more grateful to be blessed with what I have now. I no longer require life support--I can stand on my own, now.

I can stand on my own.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The end. :)

I'm reading it. I might not have time to read it all in one sitting at work (where I am now) but so far it's got my attn. I have come across one problem.

I’m wringing my hands for vigorously now,

typo. that is all for now.

Gracias. :) I actually found that a while after posting it, and have editted it in my original copy. <3