Page 9 of Joker
God. It’s bad this time. I take a moment to take stock of my injuries. My whole body feels bruised, but nothing is broken. I attempt to get up slowly and make my way into the bathroom. The walk from the bed to the bathroom is pure agony. Holding onto the sink for support, I slowly raise my head to look in the mirror.
What greets me makes me suck a breath in. It looks like someone had tried to murder me. But then again, that’s not too far from the truth. My left eye is swollen shut, and my right cheek is bruised, my lip is split, and there’s dried blood on my lower lip. Lifting my tank top, I can see I have bruising on my ribs. Marks were left on my arms and breasts where he’d grabbed me. I honestly do not want to check the rest of me.
Slowly using the toilet, it is not a surprise when it’s painful. He clearly had got a few good shots to my kidneys which would explain why my back hurts. Stripping out of my tank top and shorts, I reach in and switch the shower on. Once it’s at temperature, I slowly step in and let the water wash it all away. Curling up in a ball, I let my tears fall. I would never cry in front of him.
He would see it as weakness and feed off of it. Well, fuck him. I’m not weak. Crying is not weak. I’m the motherfucking Sons of Havoc Princess, and I’ll claim myself back. I was raised by badass men who know how to treat a woman. I’ll bide my time, and once I’m able to get Beau and me clear, I will.
Pulling myself together, I clean up and get out. I don’t like leaving Beau alone for too long. Drying and dressing in a clean tank and a comfy pair of jeans, I head back into the bedroom. Otherwise known as our prison. He only lets us out when he wants to, for his own pleasure.
Snuggling down on the bed, I hold my son close to me. I must have dozed off as I’m awoken by Agnes bringing us food. Agnes is an angel and also a prisoner here, but she’s been here so long that she’s allowed a little more freedom than me. Sitting up, I accept the tray from her, which has two bowls of soup and some crackers plus some fruit. I give her a weak smile as I can see the concern etched into her face. She’s so kind-hearted and deserves so much better than this life. How she had ended up here is her story to tell.
Getting Beau to sit up, we both eat our soup in quiet. He doesn’t like noise, so we keep as quiet as possible at all times. How I wish Beau could be a normal little boy. He would love to run in the grass, play ball, and just run free like any 10-year-old should. He doesn’t allow him to go to school, so I homeschool him as much as I can with books Agnes gets for me. He’s such an intelligent boy.
He knows who his dad is and how much we love each other. His dad, Jason, is my world and my true love. I often think about what he’s doing now. Is he thinking of me, or has he moved on? I have one photo of Jason and me when we were teens. It’s like looking at another lifetime. But I’m determined to make my way back, even if it’s just for Beau’s sake, as he should know who his dad is.
We hear the front door slam shut, and Agnes jumps.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ll take this and keep him appeased so you can rest,” she whispers.
Kissing the top of my head and kissing Beau’s, she shuffles out of the room with the tray and pots. I listen to her make her way back downstairs. God, I hope he’s had his fill today and leaves us all alone for the rest of the night.
I strain to hear her downstairs to check what mood he is in. All seems to be quiet, so I relax, but not fully. In this house, you can never fully relax and let your guard down. Holding Beau closer to me, we both drift off to sleep.
Waking the next morning, I feel slightly better. Popping some Advil, I get ready for the day. Letting Beau sleep a little longer as his little body needs it. Watching him sleep from the doorway, I can’t believe my boy would be 10 soon.
It kills me that he’s not going to have a birthday party to celebrate—no cake, no games, no presents, and no friends around. He should be enjoying his childhood and having experiences most children take for granted. Stroking his hair, I make a promise that I’m going to get us out of this.
Slowly waking him, “Morning buddy, time to get up,” I say softly while stroking his head.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles while rolling over and hiding his head under the covers. This makes me chuckle as Jason was always the same with getting up.
“Come on, Beau, you know it’s time to get up. I’ve already let you sleep ten minutes longer.”
With a groan, he flips the covers back, and body rolls out of the bed dramatically, making me laugh. Just as I’m laughing, a banging starts on the door, and his nasty voice shouts.
“Clearly, you two have done all your chores if you have time to be laughing. Get your lazy fucking asses up and get shit moving.”
His outburst causes us to jump into action. Rushing to finish getting ready, we make our way downstairs. Heading straight for the kitchen, I start his breakfast while Beau heads for the living room to clear up his mess from last night. I’m sure the room is covered in empty beer bottles as usual.
Once his breakfast is on the table, he comes in and sits down. After a few mouthfuls, he declares, “This is shit. Call this food? Why can’t you do anything right!”
Gripping the edge of the plate, he flings it in my direction, and I just manage to duck as the plate catches my forehead. He’s up like a shot, grabbing me by my hair and dragging me out of the kitchen toward the basement. I try to stop him by grabbing onto whatever I can, but he just laughs. Still dragging me by my hair, he walks into the basement, locking the door behind him.
Flinging me onto the metal bed in the middle of the room, he goes to the restraints attached to the headboard. He forces my wrists into the restraints and then my ankles, leaving me spread out on the bed. His eyes rake over me, making my skin crawl and my stomach revolt.
Licking his lips, he says, “You will learn your place bitch. You dirty little whore.”
Taking the pocketknife out, he cuts my clothes away from my body. I refuse to turn my head and keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling. I will not show him weakness. Hearing the denim of my jeans ripping, I try to go to my happy place. He removes the jeans, and I feel air on my skin. He makes his way to my tank top and removes that also, leaving me lying there in my bra and panties.
I can see the evil in his eyes and his heavy breathing as he’s getting off on seeing me lying there, at his mercy. With a chuckle, he trails his finger slowly down my face and neck, between my breasts and down my stomach. As he starts to reach the edge of my panties, I can hear his breathing change to small pants as it excites him more. Still refusing to close my eyes, I focus on the ceiling and try to think of happy thoughts.
“You will know who owns you, pet,” his fingers continue down the edge of my panties and across my thighs. “Maybe you need to learn who is in control.”
He steps away from me and makes his way to the chest of drawers that sits against the wall. He removes a few objects from the drawers and makes his way back over to me. He places a blindfold over my eyes and secures it behind my head. Darkness engulfs me. I start to panic a little at not being able to see where he is. I flinch as I feel him near my ear; he places earplugs into my ears. The panic is getting worse, and my breathing is becoming erratic. Being unable to see or hear anything, I can’t tell what he’s going to do next.
I lie there waiting for his next move. But nothing! I wait and wait, but nothing. I’m not sure how long I had been lying there. I know I need the toilet. Couple that with not being able to see or hear is torture. He’s showing me I need him, and he can make me do anything he wants. However, the only point he had proven is that I need to find my inner badass and show him whose daughter I am.
After what feels like an eternity, I suddenly felt a hand on my chin, gripping hard. The blindfold is removed, and I blink to adjust to the light now shining. He is grinning down at me with his evil malicious smile. He removes my earplugs while not being gentle at all.
