Family Ties (Hidden Secrets)

by Belden, P. J.

  Family Ties

  P. J. Belden

  Copyright © 2014 P. J. Belden

  First published 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval” at j.p.belden@gmail.com

  Prologue

  Mary

  I sit here and wonder when in the hell this stupid thing is going to be over. Will it ever be over? Looking around the room at the people in the meeting with me, all of them seemed to have a form of terror on their faces. Terror? I’m not sure they would truly understand terror. Not like the terror I have seen. Kayla’s face immediately comes into my head. My poor sister has seen terror unlike anyone else could even imagine. She lived with it for so long, that I honestly believed she started thinking it was a normal feeling.

  Normal? Another word that is foreign to most and up for debate with others. Normal is something that is constant, occurs daily and in a majority. Well, at least that is what they want you to believe normal is. In my experience, normal is acts or actions that happen daily or on a routine basis. Something you can detect or predict. Normal for me? That’s easy. I know I will wake up every morning, hide the pain, the tremors and sing and dance for the world to enjoy. I know that I will be worked to the bone and forced to wear things or promote things that I don’t like one bit. Then when I’m finally allowed to go to bed, all hell will break loose when I’m alone. Although, I’m never alone; it was more just not in a crowd of people.

  I hate that I’m never alone. Moreover, I hate that even surrounded by a million people and I feel alone. As the top artist in the music industry, I should be on top of the world. One would think I’d be dancing on the moon with the achievements that I have amassed by the age of twenty-four. Presumably that would be normal for most people in my position. It would be a party non-stop to relish in the fruits of their labor. Again, there is that perception of what normal should be.

  Expectations are what I live by. I am expected to do this or that and I do them. If I don’t, I can expect the consequences from not doing what was expected of me. There are no options in my life, no decisions. It wasn’t because I lack the brain power to do so. It was actually quite the opposite. I am a very smart woman, but being smart and being stupid can run hand in hand sometimes. I am smart enough to know that being stupid in some cases is better than facing the fact that pain usually follows the standing for the smart thing. Sometimes it is much easier to go with the stupid side of things.

  Many times I have found myself looking at my life in retrospect. I try to picture a life that is not what I have now, but what my sister and brother have. A life that calls for you being with one person to feel complete; to feel whole. A life that is built around us instead of a me. To have someone to come home to that made the day brighter and to have all the bad things roll off your shoulders, make it all seem like a damn dream!

  A dream? Yeah, I used to have those. Those moments in the middle of the day or at night where you think of all the things that you want to have, do, or be. The endless search or drive to complete something in your life before you reach a certain age or die. I thought for a while that one of my dreams was to sing; to travel the world and spread the joy of music to whoever would listen. The dream to be that voice to the feelings that are not easily expressed, but can be said so easily with music. It was my dream to be who I am right now, but now… now it is my nightmare.

  Nightmare, yeah, that is something I know about. Though most are able to wake from their nightmares and realize that it was only a dream and go on with their day. No, I don’t wake from my nightmares. My nightmares happen with my eyes wide open and replay with my eyes shut. This has to be what Kayla would go through and maybe still is going through.

  Watching Kayla go through her life in a daze and push us all away, I knew I couldn’t do that. My family would smell that rat a mile away. I couldn’t hide away. Do you know that it is so much harder to live with a nightmare when you have to pretend it isn’t happening in the first place? To go through your day to day life, knowing what will be coming at the end of the day and have to be relieved the day has come to an end.

  Yes, most that work as hard as I do would be relieved when their ‘work’ day had come to a close. They would look forward to going home and soaking in the tub or just being lazy. My day never ends. If I’m not in the studio, then I am in the gym. Avoiding the inevitable for as long as I possibly can and hating myself for how utterly weak I have become.

  Many would say that someone who cries all the time or has no will to live is depressed. I have to beg to differ on this. Depression is someone who cannot see the world around them through the clouds or fog that hang around them. Depression is a suffocating emotion that has you feeling lost and alone when you are surrounded by people.

  I looked around the room again, not really paying attention to what was being said. Their faces focus on the man speaking. I couldn’t stand to look at him. Anger rose in me and rushed through my veins fast. I hated this man, but even more… I hate myself. Hatred is not an easy pill to swallow. It’s a big awkward pill with jagged edges that scrape and cut as it slides down your throat. It burns and is painful as all hell, but I can’t stop it from forming. I hate myself more than I hate him. That makes me angry that he has me to this point. The point that I am suddenly not worth liking myself and it killed me to be at that point. If I could exist outside of my body, I would. That is how much I hate myself right now.

  A loud bang brings me back to the here and now. Mr. Evil is staring at me.

  Fuck! This is not going to end well.

  “Am I interrupting you from a nap, Ms. Williams?”

  “Nope,” I answer innocently.

  “Then maybe you can recant to the rest of us what I have been saying for the past half hour,” he roared.

  “Sure, I could do that, but you say it so much better.” I try to divert.

  There were small, quiet laughs that were barely loud enough to hear. Of course, my heart pounding and the blood surging through my ears probably wasn’t helping much for sound either. I swear anyone in the room could hear the anger raging through me like a faucet turned on high.

  “This is the kind of stupidity, I am talking about everyone. It will not be tolerated any longer!”

  He screams the last sentence and gets real close to my face. As he screamed, his hot stinky breath blew right in my face. I started coughing. Tell me if you smelled something bad right in your face you wouldn’t cough too. Well, I coughed. Who knew an innocent cough, an uncontrollable cough, would lead to the nightmare that I never saw coming.

  “Do you have a problem, Miss Williams?” He breathes in my face again, while getting closer to me.

  I scoot my chair back to try and get some breathing room between me and him. My anger boils hotter and suddenly I’ve forgotten who I’m talking to and where I am. Suddenly the filter that has been in place for years now, has stopped working and everything in my head just flows out.

  “Yeah, your breath smells horrible and it’s making me sick. What’d you eat a damn skunk? Fuck!” I say as I wave my hand in front of my nose to get the stench away.

  “My breath is bothering you?”

  “Yes and so is your voice. You know the only person in here that likes to listen to you ramble about the same things over and over again is you!” I stand as rage starts running throug
h my veins like race cars on a racetrack. The chair skids back before falling over in my haste to stand. Like a dam that springs a leak, my mouth won’t stop moving.

  “You want to know what would help all of us here. If you’d just sit down and shut the fuck up for a minute. Every single one of these people here is amazing at their positions. It is the exact reason that I hired them. Downsizing could happen. I can make it happen. Starting Now. What do you think about backing up out of my face and toning your voice down? You’ve given me quite a headache.”

  I reached for my purse and dug in there until I found it. Throwing the pack at him I said, “Here, chew this the next time you think about getting in someone’s face again. Yuck,” I shudder.

  The look in his eyes suddenly changed. They went dark and I could see a flame start to burn in them. This wasn’t a comforting sight either. Suddenly, everything I just said came back to run on a damn loop in my head.

  What the hell did I just do?

  With no other choice other than to cower in front of him and that would not happen, I did the only thing I could do that didn’t make it look like I regretted what I did. With my purse in hand, I walk out of the room. Once I walked out and shut the door, the realization of what I’ve just done hits me and I start to shake. Using the wall to brace myself, I start to walk toward the exit to get to my car. Suddenly the thoughts of seeing tomorrow seemed pretty damn dim.

  No see every word in the world may be defined by a majority, but like looks, it is all in the eye of the beholder. The person in those shoes is the only one that can tell you what one word means to them. For me, my definitions are running through my head on a rampage, tormenting me with visions of what will come.

  Fear is turning the key in the lock of my hotel room door and waiting for what will be on the other side of that door. Terror is looking a crazy man in the eyes as he lets loose all his anger and frustrations of the day out on you. Nightmare is knowing that you are too weak to stop it. Depression is knowing that you can’t tell anyone or the nightmare will end… along with your life.

  Chapter One

  Mary

  The pain could still be felt even as my breathing returned to normal. How much longer could I do this? Did it matter? The waiting is what bothered me the most. The hoping that no one saw me like this…that was what killed me the most. Have you ever sat back and watched something unfold before you and it seemed to just take a slow motion effect? That was what happened to me every single time. Every time the pain poured through me. Every time I felt the blood drip down my body. Every tear I cried that I tried so hard to keep from falling. Slow motion, as if I was being tortured by enduring it all slowly.

  Pulling myself up with what was left of the table and chairs, I walked to the door and looked outside. If I can just make it to my trailer with no one seeing me… It was the same thought every single time this happened. One day you’d think I wouldn’t be so stupid to let this keep happening. One day… One day…

  Quietly I opened the door to the conference room, sticking my head out slowly. If anyone saw me like this… No! No one would see me like this ever. I looked back into the conference room. Several chairs broken and the table now shoved off to the side, knocking a hole in the wall. Papers were everywhere and you could see blood on the floor and walls. A shudder runs through me, just picturing what happened in this room.

  “If you think that I’m going to sit here and tolerate you talking to me like that, you’re sadly mistaken!” He roared.

  Suddenly a chair hit the side of my face before smashing into the wall behind me. I let out a cry before I could hold it in. My head shot up to look him in the face. He glowered at me with so much fury and hate that I actually felt like I was being hit just from his glare. He moved toward me, pinning me to the wall by my throat.

  I clawed at his hand as he squeezed harder and harder, causing me to gasp for breath. The tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to let him see what he was doing to me. The room started to dim and I became light headed. Closing my eyes, I was ready to accept my fate. The wind rushed past my face and just as I opened my eyes, I smashed into another chair. The air left my lungs in a rush… what air was left there.

  Gasping for a much needed supply of oxygen, I tried to move under the table as an escape. He grabbed me by my ankle and yanked me out from under the table with such force I hit another chair on the way out. It seemed he wasn’t satisfied that the chair hadn’t broken. He picked it up and broke it over my back. Another cry of pain escaped me.

  My hair was yanked and I was pulled to a standing position. A whimper fell from my lips as he tightened his hold on my hair. Forcing me to look at him, his breath puffing in my face nearly suffocating me with its heat and smell.

  “You know your place bitch! At my feet!” He roared before tossing me aside.

  My head bounced off the table like a basketball and I crumbled to the floor in a heap. He wasn’t done, not by far. He grabbed me again tossing me on the table. Papers scattered everywhere. The tears I tried so hard to hold in started to drip out of my eyes one by one, just like a leaky faucet that won’t fully turn off. Drip. Another piece of me falls from my eye to disappear in my temple. Drip, another tear falls from my eye and trails to my ear.

  “I should take you right here, right now, but I won’t… not yet. I want to be able to savor you. Soon Mary. Soon I will have my fill of you!” He hissed right before punching me so hard I slid across the table and onto the floor. What papers remained on the table fell to the floor with me. “Now you just cost me having to give you time off. As if you haven’t had enough of that lately! Take three weeks. You better come back with no signs of this or you will be enduring far worse than you received today.”

  Just like that, he walked from the room, slamming the door behind him. Once I heard the outside door slam I curled up in a ball on the floor and cried. Everything hurt. Everything ached.

  A sound from outside had me closing the door to the conference room again. I needed to get to my trailer. How the hell was I going to do that? The sound trailed off and I took a chance to peek out of the door again. It seemed, for now, that the coast was clear. Where the hell was everyone when he was beating the shit out of me? Where was someone to help me? I shook my head and gave up those thoughts. It was always the same thoughts. Thoughts I was tired of hearing and thinking.

  I moved to the exit and looked outside to find the lot empty. I ran, but not to my trailer. This time I ran to my rental car and drove out of the lot as fast as I could.

  Three weeks off…

  Pfft, what the hell was I going to do with three weeks off? I couldn’t go home to my family right now, which is what I really wanted to do. I needed the comfort. To see my sisters and brothers. To have their protection and support. I would love nothing more than to be with them, but I couldn’t. There was only one person I could go to that I knew I could trust.

  It took nearly two hours to get there, but once I arrived in the driveway, the reality of what I was doing was taking over me. It was my only choice. I prayed I wasn’t going to interrupt anything.

  Shit!

  It hurt like hell to get out of the car after sitting for so long. I staggered to the door. Hesitating for a moment before finally reaching up and ringing the doorbell, but no one answered. I rang the bell again. Still nothing.

  “Damn it! Answer your fucking door!” I yelled beating on the door with tears streaming down my face.

  “Can I help you?”

  I whirled around too fast and stumbled back against the door sliding down. “Help, Nate. I need your help. Please help me,” I sobbed.

  “Mary?” He rushed up the steps and had his hand out for me to take.

  Keeping my head down, I took it. He opened the door and I stumbled inside. I could hear him talking to someone outside.

  “Not happening tonight darling. Sorry. My friend needs me.” Nate said.

  The lady didn’t seem to be too happy about it and soon you heard squeal
ing tires as she drove off. Nate came back in shutting the door. He took his jacket off and hung it on the wall next to the door and made his way to the dining room where I was sitting.

  “Mare? Look at me Mare?” He whispered.

  I shook my head slightly. These were the times I hated myself. Weak, broken shell of me had to face another person with what I let happen to me. It was my fault. I caused this one. If only I’d learn to keep my fucking mouth shut. If only…

  “I can’t help you if I don’t know what is wrong.” He said softly and I could hear the concern in his voice.

  Slowly I lifted my head. I tried to brace myself for his reaction. I hadn’t even gotten a good look at myself. The only thing I saw was what I occasionally caught a glimpse of in my rearview mirror as I drove all this way.

  “Jesus Christ! What the hell happened, Mare?”

  “What do you think happened?” I sneered, still not looking at him.

  “You need to report him or this will never end.”

  I snapped my head up the rest of the way and glared at him. “Do you think if it were that easy that I wouldn’t have done it already? Seriously Nate!”

  “JESUS! Mare… this is the worst I have seen you. I can’t keep hiding this from your family.”

  Pushing myself up to a standing position, I stumbled toward the door. “I’m sorry Nate. I never meant to put you in a bad situation. I’ll just go.”

  “No, Mare… don’t go… please,” he said grabbing my hand gently.

  I dropped to the floor and cried again. This was not normal for me. Even in the previous beatings, I’ve never broken down and cried this much. It was pissing me off. Nate pulled me into his lap carefully and held me while I cried.

  Nate was a great friend. He never asked me questions, but helped me when I needed it. He was the only one I trusted with seeing me like this. You would think it would be awkward between us since we had ourselves a little fling while I was staying with Kayla, but it was never like that with us. We were comfortable with each other, in and out of the bed.