by L. G. Davis
He brought me more food than I normally get, a loaf instead of a slice. Maybe he has decided to let me live.
“Thank you,” I say. My mouth has already started to water. But how would I make it to the top of the stairs when I can barely move?
“One more thing,” he says, his hand on the handle. “Give birth to your baby if that’s what you want, but both of you will remain here until I get my money. I’ll give myself time to decide what to do with you once this is all over.” He glances at the food. “What’s the matter? Won’t you come and eat?”
I look up at him, pleading. “I—”
“Fine.” He sighs and bends down to pick up the food. “I’ll bring it down this once.”
He runs down the stairs and puts the bread and water on the last step before going back up. He sits on the top step and grins as he watches me crawl to the food.
It takes a while, but I make it. With shaking hands, I eat the food so fast that crumbs fall to the floor and water drips down my chin.
I hate myself for wasting the water. The crumbs are not a problem. I can pick them up later. I might not get anything more to drink for a while.
When the cool liquid hits my belly, my baby moves again. Warmth spreads through my chest. Life is still growing inside me.
With renewed energy, I wolf down the food like an animal. Why not? I might as well be an animal trapped inside a cage.
If I had an option, I would save some of the food for later, but that’s risky. He might decide to take it away. His changes in mood are unpredictable.
When all the food is gone, including the bread crumbs on the floor, he starts laughing.
“You should see yourself.” He shakes his head. “You’re pathetic and dirty. No amount of soap and water is enough to scrub you clean. You’ll always be a filthy prostitute.”
I crawl back to my usual place and lie back down. Responding to him would be a waste of time.
After watching me for a while, he pulls out a lighter and lights a cigarette. He pulls on it like someone who has always smoked. I had no idea he was a smoker. But then again, I married him without really knowing who he really is. I married a stranger. He also married a stranger.
“I have a question.” His words come out with the smoke. “Was prison worse than this?”
“No,” I say. It’s what he wants to hear. I wouldn’t want him to think I’m not suffering enough.
“I see.” He coughs. “By the way, before you ate, did you take a moment to consider that perhaps the food might be tainted? What if I lied about letting your baby live?”
My blood runs cold. “Oh, my God.” I was so hungry that the idea of him poisoning me or my baby never crossed my mind.
While I shove a finger down my throat to get the food to come back up, he laughs out loud and pushes himself to his feet. “Always be careful what you put into your mouth, porcupine.” He closes the door and locks it.
I vomit out some of the food with tears and snot mixing together on my face. My hands clutch my stomach, which is cramping more than before. It can’t be hunger this time. I’m unsure whether it’s brought on by fear or the medication that’s meant to kill my baby.
I force myself to throw up until most of the food gushes out.
He must have heard me vomit because the door opens again and his presence fills the room.
“I was messing with you. There was nothing in your food or water. But now that you’ve wasted food, you’re not getting anything more.” He slams the door shut again.
A raw, angry scream builds up inside my throat and explodes from my lips.
“I hate you, you monster.” I shout, tears running down my cheeks. “You make me sick.”
When he doesn’t respond, I climb the stairs and slam the closed door with my fists until they hurt. When I still don’t get a reaction, I slide to the floor. That’s when I hear a whistle and his footsteps as he walks away.
He has forgotten to turn off the light.
He was there the entire time, listening to my rant, enjoying every second of it.
Trembling with fury, I return to the bottom of the stairs and take out my anger on the many boxes in the room. I’m still screaming with frustration as I send boxes crashing to the floor, contents spilling out of them. I continue until I have no energy left. To my surprise, one of the boxes that bursts open is filled with women’s clothing.
Observing the mess on the floor, I notice a pink notebook that looks more like a diary. It looks so different from the rest of the stuff on the floor that it stands out.
I pick it up and sit on the floor with it on my lap. I flip open the cover. There’s a name.
Alison Creed.
My gut tells me it’s her, Jared’s former wife. That’s if he wasn’t lying to me.
I shut the diary again and hold it against my body, afraid to look inside, afraid of what I might discover.
But I need to know the truth. If Alison was his wife, I want to know what happened to her. The same thing could happen to me. I stroke the soft leather for a while until I find the courage to open it.
It is a diary. The first entry is written in a smooth handwriting that looks feminine.
May 16, 2006
Dear Diary,
Last week I married Jack. It was the happiest day of my life. Today, I want out. Between our wedding day and today, something changed. He changed. He’s not the same man, and I’m not the same woman.
The wedding was my dream, but the marriage is my worst nightmare. My husband hit me for looking at a waiter a few seconds too long. I feel ashamed to be that woman, the one whose husband beats her up.
He apologized, many times. He promised it will never happen again. I don’t know if he means it. I don’t know if I can forget. This is not what I imagined marriage to be like.
Will he keep his promise? I hope I’m strong enough to wait and find out.
I turn the page for more. I find nothing. It’s the one and only entry in the diary. There are white hearts on the spine. Whoever Alison was, my heart aches for her. She must have bought the diary to journal her married life. Maybe she bought it before the wedding, before she discovered the other side to her husband.
The light is switched off while I’m still flicking through the pages. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need another entry to prove to me that Jared or Jack killed his wife. I could be next.
I need to get out of this basement. I have a plan that could backfire if I fail. But I need to try.
While cleaning up the mess I made, I lose the pieces of wood that were once a photo frame, my weapons. I don’t have time to look for them.
I hide the diary in one of the boxes underneath piles of her dresses. For him to keep some of Alison’s belongings, he must have loved her in his own twisted way.
After cleaning up, I lie on my side, put my arms around my stomach, and scream at the top of my lungs. I don’t stop until the light goes on and the door slams against the wall when he swings it open.
“Shut up.” He runs down the stairs to me.
My screams turn to whimpers. I look up to meet his eyes.
“Help me, please. The baby. I think I’m...ouch.” I scream out again, eyes tightly shut.
Please God, don’t let him see through me.
I’m surprised when he drops to his knees next to me and lays a hand on my body. I do my best not to flinch.
“This is a good thing,” he whispers. “It was not meant to be born.”
I bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying something scathing and continue to pretend I’m in unbearable pain.
After a few heartbeats, he stands up and goes back up the stairs. He takes two steps at a time.
I’m about to lose hope when he comes back five minutes later with a big bottle of water. He puts it on the floor next to me.
“It’s safe to drink.” He heads back to the stairs. “Drink the water and wash your face. Tomorrow you can come back upstairs.”
Chapter 30
I’m
awake, but I keep my eyes closed. I don’t need to open them to know he’s in the basement with me. My nose knows his toxic scent by heart.
I don’t remember sleeping. My body doesn’t feel rested. But I must have slept for him to sneak in without me hearing him.
I don’t move a muscle as I wait for what he’s about to do.
He shifts next to me. I grit my teeth when his breath caresses my face.
“Boo,” he says and I jump.
My eyes fly open. He has not switched on the light. He obviously wanted to surprise me, but I can see him clearly even in the semidarkness.
“I knew you were awake,” he whispers.
He places a hand on my stomach and keeps it there. “It’s still alive, isn’t it?”
I pretend to be too weak to respond. I’m afraid of what to say. He could punish me if he finds out I was lying to him.
I clear my throat and swallow hard. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. Only a medical examination can prove whether my baby is still alive. I haven’t felt a movement for a couple of hours now and it scares me to death. Pretending the baby is dead fills me with guilt. What if it really happens? It was a stupid idea that could cost me even my own life.
“I doubt it’s alive. You, on the other hand, look like you’re on the brink of death.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when he withdraws his hand and places it on my forehead. Tears come to my eyes because, for a brief second, I remember the man he used to be, the man I thought he was.
“Jack,” I whisper. “Don’t hurt me. You’re a good person.”
“It’s me, sweetheart…Jared. Jack is gone.”
It’s clear to me now that he’s suffering from a personality disorder. But I cannot relax. Even though Jack seems to be more evil, there’s a dark side to Jared as well. Letting my guard down is out of the question.
“Jared,” I say as fresh tears flood my eyes. “You’re a good man. That’s why I fell in love with you.” What I’m saying is garbage. I fell in love with a monster, but I have to tell him what I hope he wants to hear so that maybe I can have a chance at survival.
“Maybe,” he says. “I think I am a good person, but as you already know, there’s a dark side to me that comes out sometimes. Once it’s out, I cannot control it.”
“Jack,” I say softly.
“Yeah, that’s what I call him.” He buries his hands in his hair. “You know, Kelsey, for a while there, I thought you were changing me. I thought I was falling in love with you. I thought I could give up the money and keep you instead. I made you so perfect that I almost forgot what you were.”
“You did, Jared. You changed me. I’m not the same person who worked as a stripper. I’m never going back to that life.”
He doesn’t respond to that. He just glares at me for a long time. Without another word, he pushes his hands underneath my body and gathers me into his arms.
When he walks toward the stairs, I stop myself from crying with relief. I can never let my true emotions show. Jack could return at any time and take over. He could change his mind about taking me upstairs.
I close my eyes, hoping that when I open them again, we will be out of the basement. Even being locked up inside the bedroom is more bearable than being inside a place that brings back so many horrible memories for me.
Instead of taking me to the bedroom, he walks into the upstairs bathroom and lowers me to the thick rug on the floor.
“You need to get cleaned up.” He straightens up. “You don’t smell good.”
I nod because that’s all I can do right now. I have to pretend he’s right about everything until I prove him wrong.
He kneels down next to me and picks up a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “It didn’t have to be like this, you know.” His face folds with what looks like sadness. “All you had to do was obey me. I wanted you to be the perfect wife. I gave you the perfect life to go with it.”
“Yes, you did.” I blink. “I’m sorry.”
“From now on, you will obey me. You will do everything I ask you to do.”
“Yes.” I lower my lashes to hide the lie. “I’ll do whatever you want.” I want to ask him to also promise he won’t hurt my baby. But neither of us knows whether the baby is still alive. It’s best to pretend it doesn’t even exist so as not to anger him.
His lips twitch in a smile. Is he wondering whether he can trust me? He’d be a fool to do that. But I won’t be surprised if he believes my lies. He’s not normal. Something inside him is broken.
“Good.” He stands up again and turns on the shower.
While I wash myself, he steps out of the bathroom, but he doesn’t go far.
As the water runs down my body, I tip my head upward, drinking some of it, quenching a thirst that refuses to go away.
The warm water feels so great on my skin that I can’t hold back the tears of relief.
I wash my hair with more shampoo than I have ever used before and scrub every inch of my body.
Before I rinse myself off, I run my hand around my stomach, round and round, praying my baby is still inside there, still trusting me to get us out of the dangerous situation.
The unexpected flutter fills me with so much joy I choke up.
I blink back the tears. I can’t cry anymore. I don’t want to give Jared more satisfaction at seeing me vulnerable.
“Are you done?” he asks from outside the door.
“Almost,” I say. After drinking and cleaning myself, I feel better on the inside, but my body is still weak. I’m finding it hard to stand for long, leaning against the wall tiles most of the time for support.
I scrub myself some more, then I step out, my knees threatening to give way. I need food and proper sleep to get my energy back.
I grab a bathrobe from behind the door and put it on. He opens the door to let me out.
The rest of the day almost feels like old times, when I thought I was married to the man of my dreams. He cooks me breakfast, lunch, and even dinner. When night falls, he lies next to me on the bed.
But it’s hard to relax. I’m not sure when Jack will return, when the rug will be pulled from underneath me. I have a feeling it won’t be long until I’m plunged back into my nightmare.
Chapter 31
I wake up with a jolt. I had planned on sleeping with one eye open, but I failed. Sleeping in a comfortable bed again helped me relax more than I wanted to. I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s still dark in the room.
My heart is thudding as I listen to the silence.
I don’t hear Jared’s breathing. I’m not sure if he’s still in bed next to me. I’m afraid to reach out and touch him.
I blink to help my eyes get used to the dark. Suddenly, a piercing light cuts through the darkness. Someone is shining a bright yellow light from one end of the room to the bed.
It’s him. He’s sitting in a chair by the window, watching me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as gentle as it has been the entire day.
How long has he been watching me sleep?
He rises from the chair and comes to the bed, the flashlight still in his hand. He leans down to brush my hair from my face and plants a kiss on my forehead. I swallow down my disgust.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says. “I loved watching you sleep.”
“What time is it?” I attempt to stretch my arms above my head, but something around my left wrist restricts my movements. When I figure out what it is, panic grips me. He has handcuffed me to the bed. “What did you do?”
He switches on the light and comes back to stand in front of me. A dark cloud settles on his features. “You don’t really think I trust you, do you? I’m not stupid. I can see in your eyes that if you get the chance to escape again, you will. Am I wrong?”
I yank at my arm as if I have the power to snap the handcuff open without a key. I give up quickly. Trying to release myself from handcuffs will only lead to bruised skin around the wrists. “I won’
t. I won’t do it.”
He puts a hand to his heart. “I want to believe you, but I’m sure you understand why I can’t do that. When we sleep, you will be handcuffed.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “Now that I’ve made that clear, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”
I clench my teeth and say nothing.
“Our friends have been wondering when we’ll have another dinner party. You know how much they love your food. It hasn’t been long since we invited them over, but we should host another dinner again soon. How about in a week’s time? Are you up to it?” He rubs his chin, waiting for an answer.
A normal question for normal people. But we’re far from normal.
“Yes,” I say in a hurry. I’d welcome any opportunity that gets me out of the room and around people. During a dinner, people will be coming and going, which means the front door will be open. I have to find a way to sneak out the door while he’s distracted by all the conversations.
If I don’t make it out of the door, I’ll be forced to confide in one of the guests. I can’t miss the opportunity to tell someone that Jared is keeping me captive. I’ll beg the person to call the cops. When they arrive to take him away, I’ll run before he tells the cops who I am and what I’m hiding. I’m pretty sure they will not believe him right away or at all.
“Perfect.” He taps his fingers against his lips. “I’ll do the grocery shopping on that day and you will create one of your beautiful meals. I already look forward to it.”
“Yeah. Me too.” That day will change everything. Either I will be free from him, or end up dead. If he doesn’t kill me, I’ll be severely punished for trying to get away.
He studies me for a long time again and when I think he will say something, he switches off the light and leaves the room. He doesn’t lock the door. He doesn’t need to. I’m not going anywhere.
I want to scream for him to come back and release me, but it’s best not to annoy him. Feeling trapped but also hopeful, I lie back on the bed and stare up at the dark ceiling. Maybe I should force myself to go back to sleep, but my bladder is starting to complain. Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation only makes it stronger.
