by E L DuBois
The Beast’s ongoing legal trouble from his attempt to kill Beauty in public had resulted in a third-degree Felony Domestic Violence charge and an offer of probation. The Beast would only see jail time if he broke any of his probation requirements. All of Beauty’s forced efforts and the work of his lawyer had paid off. The Beast was free, but Beauty felt that the justice system had failed her. She had been forced to write statements and take that class. The prosecutors knew this, that is why they still pursued charges against the Beast. But more than their failures, Beauty failed herself and the Princess.
On that day, Beauty had to ask herself if the Beast’s sadistic tendencies were rubbing off on her. It was an incident on the way to the courthouse that made her question what kind of person she was becoming. If finding pleasure in his humiliations was her, becoming twisted and sadistic like him, or merely a reaction from for all she’d been through.
They were driving to the courthouse dressed to impress. The Beast wore a nice, fitted, button-down shirt with khaki pants. Beauty was in a gray, understated, but elegant dress and heels. They looked like a beautiful young couple headed to church or about to have a meal at a nice restaurant. Anything to do with the judicial system made the Beast nervous. Beauty believed his only true fear was prison.
They had stopped at a light when he turned to her and said, “Oh no, I need baby wipes!”
Beauty stammered out, “W--what?”
The Beast’s eyes were as large as saucers and his skin was a pasty color. She was so stunned at the way he looked that she did not register the smell. Then she realized why the Beast looked so distraught.
His voice was almost a shrill whine in the small enclosed car. “Baby Wipes, DAMN IT! I need them. I SHIT MY PANTS!”
It took everything in Beauty not to laugh. She plastered on a mask of indifference and dug around in the back seat until she found the baby wipes she always carried with her. When she presented them to the Beast, he attempted to drive while cleaning himself up. Beauty suggested he wait until they reached the court house and he listened to her suggestion.
She rolled down her window and turned her face into the morning sun, still trying not to smile. The Beast said nothing. His face was a mask of concentration.
“After all the shit this monster has put me through, it serves him right to have to sit in his own shit.” The thought was fleeting, but it took her aback. When had she become so vindictive?
They finally pulled into the courthouse parking lot and the Beast resumed his cleaning. He took off his pants and boxers right there in the car. Beauty did not know where to look. She had seen this monster naked a thousand times, but at that moment, covered in his own feces, she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to watch or not. He had witnessed her degradation so many times. He had been the one to inflict it and find pleasure in it. If Beauty did the same to him, did that make her a Beast as well?
The boxers were a lost cause and the Beast just threw them out the window. He cleaned himself and his pants the best he could. By the time he was done, all the baby wipes were gone, and the car smelled like a dirty diaper. The Beast had muttered curses throughout the whole ordeal. At one point, he had looked up, and the expression on Beauty’s face must have enraged him because he shot her one of his killing looks. She had turned away.
When they finally emerged from the vehicle, the Beast had to untuck his shirt to try and cover the big stain at the back of his khaki pants. Beauty was going to mention that his shirt had a mess on it as well, but the Beast growled a low, “Shut the FUCK UP!” in her direction.
So, Beauty did exactly as she was told, and let the Beast walk into the courthouse with his own shit visible all over the bottom of his shirt.
Beauty would have suggested the Beast go to the bathroom to check himself, but she had been told to stay quiet. When people visibly shrank away and did not sit next to them, Beauty acted as if she smelt nothing and kept her mouth shut. When the lawyers furrowed their brows and wrinkled theirs noses as they talked to the Beast, Beauty stayed stone-faced with her mouth shut. When the time came, and the Beast had to stand before the judge and accept his sentence in front of a courtroom of hundreds, the viable shit had dried and crusted to his back. Beauty said nothing. She did not laugh although she could hear others snickering. She did not show a single bit of emotion until the Beast turned from the permanently scowling judge.
Beauty watched the judge as the Beast talked to his lawyer. She saw the moment the judge noticed the shit and the stain. The judge’s mask cracked, and he had to hold up a folder in front of his face and turn away from the microphone. When he turned back, with his mask in place, and scanned the crowd, his eyes stopped on Beauty. For a single second, she let the corners of her lips tip up in a smile. The judge did the same with a nod of acknowledgement.
Beauty laughed inside at the Beast’s humiliation, but he never knew. By the time he had reached her and motioned for her to follow him out, Beauty’s own mask was back in place.
That day, Beauty realized two important things. She did find a pleasure in his pain, and the promises he made were not for her. They were for himself. The Beast’s good behavior was not because of any remorse he felt for his actions. It was because he could not risk getting in trouble again. He had to tamp down his demons or risk jail.
Beauty would be counting the days, wondering just how long the Beast could hold it together.
Chapter 21
Would you like an adventure now or shall we have our tea first?
BEAUTY THOUGHT SHE would never get the smell out of her car, but eventually, it faded. Just like the happiness she felt over the Beast’s public humiliation. She lived her life with a monster who had tried to kill her. She had kept the truth silent and regurgitated his lies like they were her own truth. Beauty felt she deserved his freedom and all the misery it would bring with it. Her rapist, attempted murderer, and stealer of her soul was the monster she chose to be with. Beauty had no self-worth left and the Beast’s self-imposed good behavior began to unravel before the first three-digit heats of summer.
The first indication of coming change was missing money. The Beast was back on drugs. At first, Beauty tried to ignore the financial discrepancies. The Beast was not acting violent, but he was growing distant and when he was home, he was a walking, talking zombie. This time, he was obviously into a mellow drug and she preferred a subdued Beast to a violent one. Then, it all went to shit again. The Beast lost his job and all of Beauty’s money went to hi drug use. The bills did not get paid and after a year in their big house, they were evicted again.
Beauty had to scramble to find a cheaper home. She found a broken down mobile home in the middle of nowhere. It was isolated, which the Beast loved. The location made Beauty very nervous, but she could not allow the Princess to be homeless. So, once again they moved.
They were in a shack surrounded by woods. The Beast was jobless and had too much time to fall deeper into a metal spiral fueled by drugs. This was a dangerous combination for Beauty. She was far from work and had to get up very early to get there on time. One morning, as she was about to leave for work, the Beast was sitting on the front porch. He was in the corner, his face hidden in shadows, and she did not see him at first. She almost jumped out of her skin when he spoke, and his tone made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with alarm.
“Where are you going?”
“To work.”
“I need money.”
She backed away slowly, toward the steps of the rickety old porch.
“All I have is gas money.”
The Beast said nothing, and Beauty took that as a cue that it was ok to leave. All she wanted to do was leave as quickly as she could.
She was carrying a still sleeping Princess in her arms as she descended the steps of the porch and unlocked her vehicle. She then buckled the Princess in and walked around the driver’s side. She never heard him coming. With the door half ajar and while in the middle of placing her purse in the vehicle, she f
elt the gun barrel at her temple. Beauty froze, her only thought was, “Oh God, this is how I die. Please God, let the Princess not see.”
The monster’s voice was low and menacing.
“I said I need money, Bitch.”
Beauty tried not to move. This was the first time the Beast had pulled a gun on her. She had made it a point not to keep guns in the house for this very reason. Where had he gotten a rifle?
Her words were whispered and calm.
“I told you, all I have is gas money. I need it to get to and from work. If I do not work, there is no more money. I am sorry.”
The Beast’s response was to push the barrel harder into Beauty’s temple making her wince in pain and stumble. She caught herself and leaned against the door, and the Beast moved closer to place the barrel under her chin. Beauty could feel tears stinging her eyelids. The fear inside her growing with every passing second. In the dancing shadows of the early morning light, his face looked distorted and grotesque as he moved closer to her.
“I don’t care what you need the money for. You give it to me right now or I blow off your head, then mine, and leave that little girl with no parents.”
For a fleeting moment, Beauty thought maybe, she should just let him do it. Maybe then the Princess would be better off without her troubled parents. Maybe it was the only way her baby could be free.
It was the first time since the baby’s birth that Beauty had considered death as an option. She was tired and weary of life. Her struggles were more than she could bear.
A moment passed between Beauty and her Beast. He knew she was weighing her options and pressed the barrel even harder into her chin. She relented and reached for purse.
“Just take it,” she spat as she threw the money at him.
The Beast eyed her and then spit in her face as he pulled the gun back. Beauty flinched but held her ground. The Beast snatched the money from the ground and walked away. With his saliva dripping down her face, she got into her vehicle. Her hands shook as she held the wheel. She had not even wiped her face and could feel the tears coming. She was determined not to cry, until she looked in the rearview mirror and saw the Princess’s beautiful, hazel eyes staring at her. A single tear slipped down Beauty’s face as the realization hit her that the Princess had witnessed all of it. She hoped the little girl had just woken up. She prayed the baby had not seen.
As she pulled into the Queen’s driveway and pulled the Princess from her car seat, the little girl used her blanket to wipe Beauty’s face. Beauty stared at her little girl. So tiny and small but her eyes, they looked wise beyond her years. Beauty hugged the little girl close and the Princess gripped her tightly.
“Mama ok,” came the sweet little voice in Beauty’s ear.
The tears flowed then.
“Yes, Baby. Mama ok.”
The Princess’s soft hair tickled Beauty’s nose, but she did not care. All she wanted at that moment was to hold her baby and take comfort from the love she freely gave her. Innocent love. She wanted another life with her little girl. She wanted a life free of the Beast. She worried about the damage his actions were doing to the Princess and felt like the worst mother in the world. She vowed that no matter what, for her child, she would get free. Even if that meant she had to sacrifice herself to make sure the baby would live a life free of the Beast.
Beauty wiped her face and walked up the sidewalk to her mother’s house. As she handed the Princess to the Queen, they both gave Beauty a sad look. The Queen’s voice was low and menacing.
“What did the Son of a Bitch do now?”
Beauty just shook her head and backed away.
“I’m fine, Mama. Everything is going to be ok.”
Beauty left the Queen and the Princess standing in the doorway. As she drove away, she started to plan. If anything happened to her she would make sure the Princess was safe.
When Beauty got to work, she wrote out a document detailing the kinds of abuse she had endured. Then, composed another document stating that in case of her death, the Queen was to have full legal custody of the Princess. Beauty was embarrassed to admit all that she endured, but the documents needed to be legal, so she found a kind lady at work who was a notary and had the documents notarized. Beauty then placed the documents in a large envelope and sealed it. That evening, when she picked up the Princess, she gave the documents to her mother and told her.
“This is only to be opened if something happens to me.”
The Queen was not happy. She had a million questions and things to say to Beauty.
“I know he hurts you.”
Beauty cast her eyes low. She was too ashamed to look at her strong, beautiful mother.
“How do you know that, Mama?”
“Because the baby has been saying Daddy hurts mommy, since she started talking. She told me Daddy push Mommy down stairs. Daddy punch Mommy. Daddy punch holes in the wall. Today, she said Daddy put gun to Mommy head. You’re not safe. You must leave him. Stay here with me. Don’t go home.”
Beauty just shook her head. The Queen would never understand. The Beast would always find her. If she stayed with her mother, he would kill her too. Beauty could not put her at risk like that. The Queen was livid as Beauty quietly walked out the door. What could she say? There was nothing to say. Her Mother’s voice echoed out to the car.
“What is wrong with you? He is a piece of shit and I raised you better. If you go back to him, then you deserve whatever he does to you.”
Beauty knew her mother was only saying those things in anger. She knew if the Queen knew the extent of what the Beast did to Beauty, she would never say such things. But her mother did not know. No one knew the real hell. Only Beauty and the Beast.
But her mother was right. She kept going back, which meant she deserved everything he did to her. Beauty felt numb as she turned onto the long gravel road to the shack in the woods. But her mind flitted with questions. How many days did she have left in her life? Would she live to see her baby grow up? Probably not. Would the Princess hate her and think she was weak like the Queen does? Or would she know that Beauty tried her best to protect her. Beauty prayed for the latter. She prayed the Princess would know how much she loved her and what she was willing to sacrifice.
Chapter 22
You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream...
THE BEAST’S DECLINE back into his own form of madness was quick and brutal. He looked at Beauty with resentment and disgust. He treated her as if every miserable moment of his life was her fault. During this time, Beauty had two more miscarriages. The Beast would work to impregnate her, then, when he found out she was pregnant, he treated her like the baby was her fault. He would accuse her of trying to trap him. He started fights, followed by beatings that would lead to the miscarriage.
Each day, Beauty fell into a darker despair. Her health declined, and she was in the emergency room over a hundred times in a six-month period, for unexplained injury or illness. The Beast was always right by her side, playing the concerned, loving husband, shooting her a “do not say a word” look and squeezing her hand hard whenever her injuries were questioned. He took her to different hospitals, so as not to raise suspicion.
During this time, Beauty had suffered multiple broken bones, and two surgeries. The Beast would sit back and watch with pleasure as others fixed the mess he made. He started to look like a gaunt version of his former self. The Beast must have lost at least thirty pounds and the face Beauty had found handsome when she met him, was now covered in “Meth sores.” He was lucky to still have his perfectly white teeth, but they were beginning to have small brown stains at the bottom of the front ones. Everything was declining very quickly, and Beauty was lost in the whirlwind of chaos and pain.
The Princess spent most of her time with the Queen and King at this point. Beauty had to go visit her daughter at her Mother’s house if she wanted to see her. Her typical day consisted of the Beast taking her to work, picking her up, dropping her
at the Queen’s to spend two hours at the most with the Princess, while he scored drugs or did whatever else vile things he was into. Then, he would pick up Beauty who cried every time she left her child. Once she got home, the Beast would rage and take out all his frustrations, misery, and anger on her. He had become more creative in abusing her, especially during sex.
Beauty felt like she was his plaything to train on. He would try something he saw on the internet and decide if it was something he wanted to do again. Each day, Beauty cried because she had once again been reduced to a monster’s possession.
During those dark days, Beauty functioned like a walking Zombie, coming to life only in the presence of her daughter. She had lost almost everything, but her job and her life. Beauty did not know or understand why she stayed and endured. Something in her had become so twisted and sick she felt like a wild Beast herself.
His truck was repossessed. In a rage, he went to the lot where it was being kept and knifed all the tires, slashed the interior, and caused enough damage that it would cost the dealer a great deal to resell it. This caused the local police to charge him with Criminal Mischief. A clear violation of his probation. Beauty worried more when the Beast became more paranoid and secluded. He only left the house to drive Beauty to and from work. He insisted on watching the Princess himself to save money. Beauty hated leaving her sweet little Princess with the Beast. She did not trust him with her. She asked the Queen or King to check on them daily or take the Baby, so she would not be alone with the Beast.
One day, while Beauty was at work, the Queen called Beauty to tell her that the Princess told the King that, “Daddy was watching naked people on his phone and touching his privates with the bathroom door open.” Beauty felt sick to her stomach and like a complete failure as a mother. She asked the King, who had retired, to please watch the Princess from now on. She was not to be left with the Beast. He was worse than Beauty thought.
