Page 51 of Saving Little Jenna
"Yeah, what kind of moment are we talking about here?" John asked suggestively as he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Not the sexual kind, John, if that's what you're implying." Marcus rolled his eyes, hands on his heaving chest. "For starters, we had an honest chat about her behavior problems. She's obviously been through a lot, with all the bullying and everything. But she confessed to me everything."
"Everything?" I asked, looking at John who was just as surprised.
"She told me how she treated Michael and Jenna and how sorry she is. She's a good girl, but there's a side to her that fights for control, a side that isn't so nice. She just lets the bad side have too much power over her. Anyway, thank you for holding her responsible for her behavior. I've tried my hardest, but she doesn't confide in me anymore. It felt good that she came to me willingly this time. Maybe it's because that's just how Middles are with not wanting to confide in grown-ups.."
I lay down next to him and looked up at the ceiling. "You know what, I've had the same problem with my girl. She's kept secrets from me and hidden her feelings and emotions. But you know what the best part is? It gets easier with time. So just hang in there and see how she trusts you more with time. Meanwhile, be the caring and loving Daddy she needs you to be. It's the only way to speed up the process."
My chest swelled with pride when John gave me a nod of approval. It was finally my turn to give advice instead of receiving it, and I couldn't do it without John's help.
Chapter 18: Jenna
I played house with a Barbie and a Nightcrawler figurine, my favorite comic book superhero. The Nightcrawler figurine was supposed to be Daddy since I didn't have a better replacement. I was over at Michael's place for a playdate.
I loved it when Daddy went out for a Daddies’ day out with Marcus and uncle John since it meant I would have a playdate with Michael and Kristen. Kristen was supposed to be taking care of us, and while we still didn't trust her, she hadn't done or said anything mean ever since the incident.
Michael was supposed to play house with me, but he'd taken a short break to go upstairs and show Kristen the realistic gorilla costume he'd used to scare her senseless. Apparently, it had badly traumatized her and now she needed to touch the costume to get over her fear. Michael felt responsible for the whole thing, so he was eager to help her get over it.
As I sat the toys down for an afternoon tea party before the dollhouse, I wondered if I should've told Daddy that it was my twenty-first birthday. On one hand, I wanted to celebrate my birthday for once instead of mourning it, but on the other, there was something scary about being the center of attention at a birthday party.
As I poured imaginary tea and served it at the table, a naughty thought popped into my head. I turned around to see that the front door was still closed, and then I raised my chin to see the nursery door still closed upstairs. Picking up Nightcrawler and Barbie, I moved their crotches closer and smashed them together back and forth to imitate sex.
Ever since Daddy and I made love, sex was all I could think about. But I supposed it was normal considering I had just lost my virginity. I only hoped that our sex life remained just as exciting down the line like Michael's apparently now was.
I picked up the pace by smashing their crotches together harder, just like Daddy had done to me. Watching the blue Nightcrawler figurine was doing something to me. Maybe I could ask Daddy to cosplay as the Nightcrawler in the bedroom one day. I ought to make a checklist of all the naughty things to try with Daddy.
Just when my arms were getting tired of all the action my toys were getting, I heard the front door open behind me. I instantly dropped the toys onto the floor and sat them back at the table, pretending to play.
"Daddy, you guys are back already?" I asked as I heard footsteps approaching. "I hope you didn't see anything too jarring. If you did, I can explain. It isn't what it looks like. You know how much I love the Nightcrawler, so can you really blame me?"
Just as I turned around, I felt a funny-smelling kerchief forced onto my face. I screamed at the top of my lungs and struggled against the hand that began dragging me away. Suddenly I felt weak and sleepy, but the face before me had sent me into a shock. It was that of Otis, his long white hair falling to the sides of his bald head and an evil smile plastered across his face.
My screams turned quieter by the second as he dragged me out the door. I saw Michael rush out of the nursery upstairs and stare at me in horror before running toward the stairs. Once I was outside, the front door slammed in my face and I began slipping into sleep. Otis had drugged me and now he was going to kill me. He'd done a half-ass job at drugging me, so there was still hope that I'd snap back to consciousness soon.
It became harder and harder to think, but my last few thoughts were that of Daddy. I regretted not having said my goodbyes to him, Michael, and uncle John. I needed to thank Daddy so much for bringing joy into my life.
As the car started, I found myself trapped between sleep and wakefulness, unable to slip into either state. Each time I'd slip into sleep, I'd remember Otis had kidnapped me and it would jolt me back awake. Thoughts raced in my mind but they were slurred, and I wasn't sure if I was thinking them or saying them out loud in slow motion.
At least I got to live my life a little before being dragged back to the cult, and I got to experience love for a change instead of outright hatred. I was luckier than my siblings in that aspect and I hoped I got to see them again one last time if I was to die.
How stupid it was of me to have planned my life so far ahead with Daddy. I should've known Otis would never stop looking for me. I heard stories of how evil he was all my life, but I had hope for a better future. In truth, I was doomed from the beginning when I was born into a cult.
Even in such uncertain and anxious circumstances, every inch of my body craved to see Daddy one last time. I needed to etch every inch of his face into my memory so I could never forget him. I didn't even have a photo of him to remember him by should Otis spare my life.
By the time the car came to a sudden halt, I was fully alert. Otis opened the door for me and pointed a gun at me, covering it up with a thick jacket.
I cooperated and got out of the car. There were people around and I considered screaming, but Otis was right behind me with the gun pointed at my back. I knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot me if I tried something funny.
We were before a small motel and he was leading me to one of the rooms. Once inside, he slammed the door shut and pushed me onto the bed. Picking a rope off the floor, he tied me up to the bed.
"If you scream, I'll shoot you right in your pretty face." He pointed the gun at my face before placing it on the table.
"How did you find me, Otis?" I asked as he patted me down, missing the phone buried deep in the pocket of my onesie.
He let out a loud cackle. "You thought you could run away and escape your fate? Satan chose you to be my eleventh wife and he guided me right toward you. I had a dream where he gave away your location."
Otis had a habit of lying. Back in the cult, I'd heard so many contradicting stories about his background. One time he said Satan himself appeared before him and asked him to start a cult worshipping him. Another time it was his family's death in an accident that drove him to start it.
