Clash (3 page)
Authors: C.A. Harms
I went to bed without dinner, just wanting to wash away the last couple of days. I woke to silence, which was rare. Turning to the side, I noticed my clock read 7:48 in the morning.
I went out into the living room and saw the mess John left after his temper tantrum. I did a quick cleanup of the most obvious and left the rest for another time. The faster I could get back to my room the better.
I was about to pour myself a glass of milk when I was startled by a loud smack. John slapped his open hand against the countertop. When I jumped, I dropped the gallon of milk onto the floor, spilling a large amount onto the linoleum. As I hurried to grab for it, John struck me in the center of my back with his fist. Pain shot through me, feeling as if it exploded out through my chest, and all the breath in my lungs disappeared.
I fell to the floor on my knees, gasping for any air I could salvage. John yelled at me from behind. “You stupid little bitch! Can’t you do anything right?” He grabbed the back of my shirt and began to move me around as if using my body to mop up the mess.
When he was satisfied he had cleaned up enough milk, he lifted me from the floor and dragged me to the front door. Opening it, he shoved me out onto the front porch. I fell forward, tripping down the front steps before colliding with the ground. “All fucking mutts belong outside,” he said with no remorse
I remained rooted in place as I continued to fight for air. My lungs burned and my back ached. A sob escaped me but I fought against it, refusing to let go.
Before giving John a chance to open the door and find me still standing there, I began walking down the road. Shoeless and in nothing but milk soaked pajamas, the gravel hurt my feet with every step.
We lived a few miles from downtown, out in the country. Farm land spread out for miles; the town of Pekin felt so far away. My breathing became a little easier with each passing step. I thought about stopping at one of the houses along the country road and calling Casey to come get me, but I just kept walking, needing all the space I could get.
As I rounded the corner I heard a loud vehicle approaching from behind and tensed immediately. I knew the sound of John’s truck anywhere.
He veered off the road in front of me and came to a screeching stop. Leaning over to open the passenger door, he yelled in my direction. “Get in the truck!” I looked at him and for the first time thought about running. I looked around and then back at him, thinking there was really no place to go. “Now,” he screamed, “or I will get out of this fucking truck and make you!”
I knew he was not bluffing.
I walked to his truck and climbed in, closing the door behind me. I knew at that moment I had just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. He said nothing the entire drive home. He just kept squeezing and releasing the steering wheel, as if to taunt me with his plans. I was terrified. I should have run, screamed, done anything other than get into his truck. When we pulled into our drive, he got out quickly.
I remained frozen in the truck seat as he walked around to the passenger side and yanked my door open, grabbing me by my hair and pulling me out. The pain was almost unbearable.
Once he dragged me through the house door, he slammed me against the refrigerator. He quickly brought his hand up, slapping me hard across the face. He leaned in close and spittle flew at me as he slurred his words. “Clean up your fucking mess.” He let go of me and walked to the couch, flopping down on the cushions. He was going to sit there and make sure I did it.
I had been scared in my life, almost daily, but in that moment my body shook in terror.
I was almost finished cleaning up when he stood from the couch and walked toward the kitchen. He hovered over me and my back tensed. A cold drip of moisture landed on my shoulder, followed by a steady stream. The smell of his beer filled my nostrils, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying. I sat in the center of the recently cleaned floor as he emptied the contents of his beer bottle over me, soaking my clothing and dripping on the floor. Once the flow stopped, he tossed the bottle in the garbage and walked away laughing.
After a few minutes he walked out the front door and I heard his truck start up. Scrambling toward the front window I watched as he drove down the road.
I ran toward my room, slipping in the beer still pooled on the floor. I caught myself on the counter and threw a few dish towels on the floor. Rushing into my room I started throwing things into a bag as fast as I could—just the important things. It was easy considering I didn’t have much. My last gift from anyone besides Casey was on my eleventh birthday, a month before my mother left. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I opened my window and leaned out, placing the bag outside on the ground, just below the window sill. I may need to make a fast getaway, and I would have to hide the bag.
Just as the bag hit the ground I heard his truck returning. I hadn’t expected him to be gone long; the liquor store was just at the edge of town, and I knew he had gone on a run for more beer, considering he dumped half a bottle on me.
I began to shake, wondering if he was going to come back to my room and start hitting me again. I listened closely for a few minutes, and realized I heard more than just John’s voice. He was not alone, and that gave me a little comfort. Maybe he would stay busy and leave me alone.
I sat on the floor against the wall on the other side of my bed, praying silently that he stayed busy with his company. It was beginning to get dark out, and I was waiting for silence so it would be safe to use the phone. I could call Casey to meet me somewhere and help me get out of here.
Time seemed to drag on forever as music played loudly and heavy laughter filled the house. I couldn’t determine how many people were actually here. I opened the door wide enough to just barely peek out and see what my chances were to snatch the phone unnoticed. When a man walked past my bedroom making eye contact with me, I panicked and shut the door quickly. I would have to wait it out. Time ticked by slowly.
I looked at the clock and realized it was now 11:31 pm. I changed my clothes, preparing for the possibility of an escape. I found myself wondering just how long a couple of drunk idiots could last.
I lay on my bed waiting for silence to fill the house and must have dozed off. I woke abruptly, feeling suffocated. A tremendous amount of weight pressed against my chest, making it hard to breathe. My body felt so heavy; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move. It was at that moment I realized I was not alone in the darkness. He was there, on top of me, pinning me to the bed.
There was a horribly strong aroma of liquor way too close to my face.
I began to struggle against the weight of him, trying to move out from beneath him. The more I struggled, the harder he pushed my arms and legs into the mattress.
“Lie still, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be gentle. You’re gonna love this almost as much as I will.” The words came out in a slurred mess. It was then I realized this was not John, but some stranger. The guy from the hallway earlier tonight, maybe; just some random guy John brought home to get drunk with. He was so heavy, and I couldn’t get free from him. I began to panic.
Still holding my wrists bound above my head with one hand, he ground his hardness against me. His mouth was on my neck and he was running his free hand up and down my body. I began to cry, pleading for him to stop. “Shh,” he whispered, “just lay still you sweet thing, and I promise I will make you feel…mmm so good. You have such a sweet little body.” I felt the vomit rise in my throat and could feel the constriction in my chest as the feeling of being trapped took over.
There was nothing I could do. He was too strong.
“You smell so sweet. Damn, you’re making my mouth water.” He started running his tongue down my neck and breathing hard in my ear. Every time he spoke or touched me, I felt like I was going to vomit. The feeling of his hand tracing the top of my pants before roughly gripping my hip caused my breathing to speed up.
The moment his hand slipped beneath the hem of my shirt I began to beg. “Please stop…don’t do this, please.” I hoped somewhere within him he could find the wrong in this and just let me go.
He kept going until his hand was over my breast. He gripped me with force and pinched my nipple, whispering in my ear, “Now those are some sweet little tits. I can’t wait to get my mouth all over you.”
Before I knew it he jumped off me, hollering, “What the fuck…ahh!” My throat burned from the bile I just expelled all over him.
I took it as my opportunity to run. Once I hit the front door I didn’t stop; I ran until I reached an old shed along the road. Hiding next to it quietly, I listened for any movement, any sign he had followed or that John had woken up to also come after me.
I felt faint and tried to breathe slowly. I needed to clear my head; I couldn’t allow myself to pass out.
Keeping an eye on the house, searching for any movement behind me, a car following, anything, I began to move. It was completely silent and dark for miles.
As I walked, I did my best to remain hidden by the tall grass along the sides of the road. I wanted to be able to hide quickly if I needed to.
I saw a light on at an old farm house a little further down the road. It must be close to six in the morning by now; the sun was beginning to rise in the distance. Seeing the house as a means of help, I focused on its path and began to walk faster. Soon I had broken out in a sprint and my bare feet burned, but I pushed myself to keep going.
I reached the end of the driveway and heard the faint sound of music coming from the barn. Taking in a deep breath I cried out, “Help!” and fell to my knees on the gravel. I was exhausted and the adrenaline was slowly beginning to fade away.
Once I saw an older man appear in the door of the opened barn, with a small woman directly behind him, a huge wave of relief washed over me. I fell onto my hands, began taking in huge, deep breaths, and the ground beneath me grew fuzzy. My face began to tingle, my arms grew weak, and suddenly I collapsed to the driveway as the couple rushed to my side.
2 Years Later
“That was the day everything changed. It’s what led me here.” I tore away at the edges of the napkin twisted in my hands. “It hasn’t been easy. It’s one of the hardest things I have been through, but I made it.”
“You have,” Dr. Perkins agreed with a smile. “The steps you’ve taken to heal have been remarkable. You went through a tremendous amount of pain and anguish for years and came out on top.”
“It has been two very long years, but you helped me face everything. You helped me understand it was not my fault.” It wasn’t easy after the night I was attacked. I went through a long stage of depression and then anger. My nights were filled with nightmares and fear of being alone.
“How are things at Karen’s?” Dr. Perkins’ question brought a smile to my face.
“Great,” I said without hesitation. “Karen has been such an amazing part of the last two years. Without her, Casey, and even Carter and Dylan, I’m not sure I would have come this far. They’ve been there for me every step of the way.”
My mind drifted back to the morning of the attack…
***
I slowly opened my eyes, looking around an unfamiliar room. I was in a home I did not recognize. The sun was bright and it shone through the large living room. I was wrapped securely in a big, warm blanket as a small fire crackled in the fireplace just across the room.
I could hear people talking in another room to my right, just before an officer came through the door. He stopped a few feet away and kept his distance as he offered me a gentle smile. “It’s good to see you awake,” he said.
He approached slowly and knelt down next to me. Without warning, a sense of fear ran through me. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but the memories from earlier that morning came rushing back.
I began shaking uncontrollably, and he quickly inched back, allowing more room between us. “I won’t hurt you. No one is going to hurt you,” he assured me in a gentle tone. “Can you tell me your name? Is there someone I can call? Can you tell me what happened?”
All I could manage to say were two words—“Karen Andrews.” She was, at this point, the only adult I wanted and trusted.
I sat up, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as I stared at the two people watching from the doorway where the cop had entered. I assumed they were the same two people I had seen coming out of the barn only hours ago.
The cop stepped away and dialed his phone, leaving space for the older woman to approach. “Honey, can I get you anything, maybe some water?” she asked in a soothing voice.
“Yes, please,” I whispered as I pulled the blanket in toward my chest. “Thank you.” My eyes filled with unshed tears, but I began to blink rapidly to hold them back. She turned and quickly headed toward the kitchen.
I turned toward the fire, staring at the flames. I could still feel the man’s hands on my body and smell his stale breath in my face as he kissed my neck. My stomach began to turn as I remembered the things he said to me, the plans he had for me.
I looked back as the woman returned, carrying a small glass of ice water. She carefully placed it in my hands, smiling kindly before exiting the room once again.
I
felt lost and broken. I spent so much time hiding, and now everyone would know. People would look at me differently, treat me differently. The idea of it all made me feel nauseated.
“Payton! Oh my god, what happened?” Karen's voice came out of nowhere. I hadn’t realized I was lost in my own thoughts. My mind must have
wandered off in the time it took for the police to locate her.
My hands began to tremble as she stepped into the living room and rushed in my direction. And then I saw him—Dylan had come too.
Karen took a seat at my side and wrapped her arm around my shoulders protectively, but I couldn’t stop looking at Dylan. He walked toward me and knelt in front of me as he reached out and took one of my hands in his. “It was John, wasn’t it,” he whispered, “who left the bruises?”
I could only nod my head in response before Dylan wrapped his arms around me and held me close. It was then that I let go and stopped fighting the tears I spent years hiding. I sobbed heavily against Dylan’s chest as I gripped his shirt tight in my hand. The last thing I wanted was for him to let go.
***
“Payton?” Dr. Perkins said my name to gain my attention.
I looked up and shrugged. “Sorry. I was just remembering that day. Thinking about when Karen showed up.”
“And Dylan?” she added with a smile.
“Yeah, and Dylan,” I confirmed. Once again I looked down at my hands, still nervously picking away at the napkin I held.
“How are things going with Dylan?” she asked, and my stomach tensed.
“There’s not much to talk about. After that night it became his number one goal to keep me safe. He took the big brother role to a whole new level, hovering over me at every opportunity. Any chances of it ever being more were crushed,” I said with sadness. “Now he just looks at me as a victim. It was the one thing I never wanted, especially from Dylan.”
“Have you talked to him about it?” she asked. Her question caused me to laugh.
“When would you suggest I do that, Doc? Before or after his latest party? Or maybe when he drops in for five minutes to say hello to his mom before rushing back toward campus?” Memories of the times I saw him with random girls hit me in the stomach like a sucker punch. “That ship has long since sailed. He’ll never look at me as someone he’d be interested in. I’ll forever be the little girl that needs protection. The frail Payton.”
I looked out of the window to my left and my mind began to wander once again.
***
Immediately after I made my statement to the police, they arrested John and the drunken stranger who attacked me. I spent the remainder of that day sleeping, with Casey watching me like a hawk. Every single move I made she checked on me. I was fine, just exhausted and frightened. I woke up on and off throughout the day and night with terrors of that man coming back to finish what he started.
I remember sometime around midnight, I woke up in need of something to drink. I quietly crawled from bed and went to the kitchen, stopping abruptly when I saw Karen sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. She must have sensed my presence, because she looked up and stood instantly. “Payton, it’s okay. I just couldn’t sleep.” She rubbed her hands together nervously before placing them at her sides. “Come sit with me,” she said, waving me over.
I grabbed a bottle of water before sitting down in the chair next to her. For the next few minutes we sat in silence before she decided to speak. “Why didn’t you ask for help? I would have helped you. We could have gone to the police together. Has this been going on since your mom left?” Tears began filling her eyes before spilling over. I was so unbelievably grateful to this woman for everything she had done. She had welcomed me into her home, not just tonight, but anytime and every time over the last six years. I owed her an explanation.
I lifted my gaze from the table and turned to look directly at her. “Karen, it wasn’t always this bad. I mean, he was never really nice to me, but over the last couple years it happened more often and grew in intensity. I was scared to say anything. I was worried what would happen to me if I told anyone. I wasn’t sure where I would end up. I didn’t want people to look at me differently, to look at me as a victim. I was embarrassed. I hated the idea of the unwanted attention, and I was scared.”
After Karen closed her eyes as if deep in thought, she replied, “Payton, honey, you have
always had a place to run. You have always been, and will always be, welcome here. You are part of our family. We all love you dearly, and I never want you to feel alone again. I am here for you. We all are!” She took me into her arms as we both cried.
“Rise and shine, sweet love bug,” Casey announced as she flipped on the bedroom light.
Since Dylan moved to campus over a year ago, I had taken his room. Casey and I both decided to save money and live at home, with Karen’s insistence of course. She said she loved the idea of the both of us safely tucked in under her roof. One day I knew I would be leaving, but for now it was nice to feel secure.
“Case, seriously,” I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head. I was so not ready to get up. After my session with Dr. Perkins yesterday, I just felt drained.
She yanked the pillow from my hands, laughing loudly. “Morning ‘my little sunshine’, it’s time to get moving. We have classes, and if you don’t hurry Carter will steal all the hot water.”
Carter—the sixteen year old who was a walking heartbreaker. Karen had her hands full with that one. He was a ladies’ man, or so he said, and there were girls calling here at all hours for him. He was cocky and arrogant and trouble in the making.
As much as I hated Casey at that moment, she was so right. Carter was worse than a girl; he took entirely too much time to get ready for anything. He was naturally adorable, just like Dylan, so I wasn’t sure what took him so long. He would occupy the bathroom all morning if we let him.
“Okay fine, I’m up, but you better have coffee started and a jelly donut waiting,” I whined as I crawled from bed and stretched.
She left the room laughing as I gathered my clothes and went to claim the bathroom before Carter crawled out of bed.
The daily commute to and from school was forty-five minutes one-way, so getting on the road in time was imperative. Yes, the long drive was annoying, but leaving Karen to live on campus made me sad. She had been so supportive of me for years, and I hated to leave her. It was nice having a mother figure; it was something I lived without for so long.
After my shower I exited the bathroom and almost collided with Carter.
“Whoa, Twig,” he grumbled as he gripped my waist. It was completely unnecessary, but he was a grabby little thing. Okay—so he wasn’t little by any means. He was taller than me, and I swear, every day he got fuller. And yes, he had picked up on using the nickname they both knew irritated me.
I shrugged out of his hold and walked down the hallway. “Put some clothes on, Carter. You’re killing my eyes.”
“Yeah, I hear ya, babe. You know me in my boxers is the highlight of your day.” He chuckled when I just kept walking. He was so arrogant.
Sifting through my closet, I couldn’t help but smile at all the colors and choices. I never had so many pieces of clothing to choose from until now. Karen is always buying things for Casey and me; my job at the local coffee house also helped with expenses. I got scholarships and other financial aid for school, but I still had to pay for books, so a job was a must. Now that school was in full session I only worked weekends, but it gave me a sense of purpose. I loved the small little café and the people who owned it.
I settled on a pair of skinny jeans and a wraparound pink shirt I picked up at Bergner’s during a sale. It was late October and the air was growing chill, so it was time to break out the fall attire.
I slipped on my socks followed by a pair of knee-high suede boots, pulled my long brown hair into a pony tail, and called it enough.
After gathering up my coffee and jelly-filled donut Casey prepared for me, I followed her out to the car. She waited until we were on the road, five minutes into our drive, before talking. “We have to stop by Dylan’s place. Mom wants us to give him the stack of mail he had on the table.”
“Well, if he came home to visit more often, he would be able to get it himself,” I added. I wasn’t happy about going near Dylan’s fraternity. Those guys were nasty with wild parties and even wilder hookups. They were not shy about their sexuality in even the smallest way.
“Plus I haven’t seen Seth in two days and I want to surprise him.” Casey gave me her best pouting expression and I rolled my eyes at the attempt. She knew I had no other choice but to tag along. She was driving, so where she went, I went.