Trapped

I found myself running from the voice, or trying to, but the voice seemed to follow me, taunting me with its words and laughter; all too familiar sounds I had heard many times before.



His voice was getting louder, zeroing in on me as I tried to escape him.



Then, the voices started to blend together, jolting me up with a scream to awaken the dead. That’s when my mother came into the room, dressed in her terry-cloth robe with her graying hair tossed across her head in an uproar. She walked to the side of my bed with a worried expression, brushing my hair back from my face like she used to when I was younger. “Are you okay, sweetie?” She asked me, softly. “You’re so warm.”

“Bad dream,” I replied with a raspy voice. My hair was wet, sticking to my face and neck with traces of sweat that covered my entire being and body. My heart was beating irregularly, pounding against the confines of my ribcage like a wild animal locked in a cage. I could barely breathe as I tried to calm myself down from the fear of a nonexistent nightmare. I had to remind myself that I was home again, not at TJ’s, where I would get the shit beat out of me for practically anything.

“It’s okay, honey. You’re okay,” She pulled me closer to her and started to rock me from side to side. “Your father went to get you a bottle of water from the fridge.”



When I woke up the next day at noon, both of my parents were gone. The note on the fridge told me they had business to attend to in town and would be back later this evening. This meant I was home alone for the first time since I came home, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. On one hand, it meant no one was around to worry about me every second of the day, which is what my parents did when they weren’t otherwise occupied. On the other hand, though, it meant I was left to fend for myself if anything were happen, which in a way I was used to.

During my hellish time with TJ, I had learned to pretty much fend for myself while he just sat around. I cooked, cleaned, washed, and everything else a house wife would do; only I wasn’t a house wife. I was a fucking slave to him; a pawn in his game of cat and mouse. Because of him, I no longer knew how to do the things people my age did; hell, I didn’t even know how to be myself anymore. I had a lot learning to do again thanks to that asshole that made it his life’s ambition to tear me down.

I tried not to think about that, though. Actually, I tried not to think about him at all. He had already consumed 3 years of my life; why give him more time?

Just as I was getting into a show on TV about hoarders, the doorbell rang causing me to freeze in my spot. What if it was someone I didn’t want to see? What if it was TJ? Or even worse; what if it was my brother or sister? I couldn’t let them see me, not like this. Not while I was covered in bruises, anyway.

I moved towards the door, slow and quiet, to see if I could see who was on the porch. As I got closer, I could hear hushed voices talking animatedly to one another. I couldn’t fathom why one of them sounded familiar until I heard my name being called.

“Kymberlie Ann, I know you’re in there!” I heard him exclaim as he pounded on the door. “Open the door, babe. I have someone I want you to meet.”

Curious as to whom he wanted me to meet, I began to unlatch the locks on the door until they were all undone and I found myself staring at the two people on my doorstep. The taller of the two was Jimmy, of course, but the shorter one was new to me.

She was like a life-sized doll dressed in a simple dress with sandals on her feet and a smile on her face. Her skin was tan, but I couldn’t tell whether it was natural or just from being out in the sun a lot. Her hair was a medium brown color with hints of lighter tones here and there, running past her shoulders in thick curls and hanging in her face in an attempt to hide her pretty brown eyes. She was very pretty, especially so when she smiled. I could see why Jimmy was so infatuated with her.

I found myself smiling at her as I stepped aside to let them in. “You must be the one that stole my soul mate from me.” I teased as I followed them to the living room.

Leana laughed. “Jimmy told me about that.” She smiled. “I’m Leana,” She reached over to shake my hand. “Jimmy’s told me a lot about you, Kymberlin.”

“You can call me Kymmie or Kymberlie,” I told her. “Your husband usually does. How much has he told you, by the way?”

“Don’t worry,” She chuckled. “He didn’t tell me all the details, just that you finally got out of your bad relationship and that he wanted to make sure you never had to deal with something like that, again.”

“Sorry, Kymmers, but I can’t keep a secret from my wifey.” Jimmy butted in. “I tell her everything.”

“It’s cool, Jimbo,” I mumbled. “But keep it between us, okay? I don’t want the world to know. At least not until I look better,”

“I can help with that,” Leana grinned. “What do you say to a girl’s day tomorrow? We could invite Jenna and a couple girls from the diner.”



Leana was a sweetheart. She took me to the local spa in HB, where I got to experience the whole spa treatment for the first time. We started the day off with facials followed by body massages and then foot scrubs. After that, we stopped at the diner to have a bite to eat and meet up with the girls before we went to get our nails done.

It ended up being Leana, me, Jenna, Sasha, Kaysie, and Lauren. Shelby had to work. The six of us spent our time together laughing and talking about different things. We discussed our lives and what we planned to do before we died. Leana and Lauren were already married so they didn’t need to worry, but the rest of us talked about plans to one day get married and start a family. Actually, when I say “us,” I mean they talked about it while I mainly remained quiet on the subject.

There was a time in my life when I wanted all the same things these girls wanted. I used to fantasize about having a gorgeous wedding with more guests than I could count there to witness my day of happiness. After a spectacular honeymoon, I wanted to be able to have a couple kids who looked like either me or my husband and then have a lifelong marriage like my parents have. Reality destroyed those fantasies, though. I no longer know if I want those things still. What kind of guy would want to marry a girl like me, anyway? I was a wreck—a train wreck to be exact—that had so many issues even I couldn’t keep track. I was the leftover remains of a girl some guy destroyed. Any sane guy would think of me as a burden, not a girl he could fall in love with.

That’s another thing I wasn’t sure about anymore; love. Did it even exist between a woman and a man these days? I mean I knew for sure that love could exist between family members—you know, the whole ‘I have to love you because you’re blood-related’ kind of thing—but after whole thing with TJ, I didn’t really know if I could believe in what people call “true love.” What my parents have is the closest thing to it, I was almost sure of that. Jimmy and Leana looked to be pretty in love, too, so maybe love does exist… But did it exist for everyone or just some people? I wasn’t sure I’d ever know the answer to that question.