End of Terror

Natalie was once again lying in the bed of her room; once again she was questioning why she had stayed there so long, why had she let this oppressive man commit unto her those wrongful things. At the moment, while these thoughts passed through her mind, for what was the millionth time, she was examining her long brown hair, sub-consciously plucking at the semi-frayed and split ends. It now reached to somewhere around the middle of her back. She had always had long hair, and over the years had grown used to the compliments. People were somewhat fascinated by it, she was kind of known for her long locks. Normally, one could tell if she was thinking-not by the dazed look upon her face, but by her fiddling with her dark brown curly locks. The image was much like the one she was displaying now. The trance she had thrown herself in was suddenly shattered and 1

interrupted by a loud banging on her pale brown, paint stripped door into her bedroom.2

“Whatever you’re doing in there better be something productive, 3

young lady. I can put you to work at any time even if it’s your day off, no questions asked!”4

As his large steps traveled down the now empty hallway, (once filled with pictures and end tables, even a grandfather clock and diminutive expensive trinkets, but now all gone, he had sold them all to obtain money for his “stuff”) she mocked him in her head. He was the reason… the reason she had to get out of this place; he, who is her father, was the cause of it all. Well, stepfather. He was her “caretaker”, if you will. Her parents parted when she was but a baby and she went with her mother while her father ran off with some woman who was half his age. She hadn’t the slightest idea of his whereabouts. Her mother, Lucile (Luce for short), got involved in drugs and somehow got hooked up with Brad, Natalie’s so-called “caretaker”. After but a few months, Natalie’s mother and Brad were married, and normally, one would move in with the other, but Brad was already living there, had been for months, and that’s when everything began. The torturing and oppressiveness of this man, it all started within just the week he moved in. Natalie had never expected it, really. Brad was always friendly to her when he came around, but she never thought much of it. A couple of nights after he moved in, it got bad. Her mother wasn’t home; there was actually no telling where she was and her older sister was out for the night; there was no telling where she was either. She was alone with him, not scared though since nothing had ever happened before, but it began; the horrific actions of this man commenced…5

Natalie didn’t like to think about the first time, the fifth, the twelfth, any of them really; though they ran together now making a blur of images running like a puddle of goo around her mind. How she got by without continuously thinking of it, she wasn’t quite sure of. She was afraid things were going to get bad, that’s why she had to leave. It wasn’t just him doing that, he made her do all of the housework and not just normal work. She had to get down on her hands and knees at least twice a week and scrub the bathrooms head to toe with a toothbrush and a bottle of sanitizer; same for the kitchen. She dusted the bedrooms, the living room, the family room, the dining room, all of it twice a week. She vacuumed the carpet and mopped the floors she had already scrubbed with the toothbrush. While she did this at home, she was somehow supposed to balance her homework. She was a smart girl, took honors/Pre-AP courses. The knowledge came to her easy, but she just always had a ton of work to do. Some nights she didn’t get to bed until after midnight; three in the mornings sometimes, only to get back up at seven to do it all again. 6

Natalie didn’t have much of a social life. She was 17, but had no car, no way to get from A to B because neither her mother nor Brad would drive her or even let her borrow a vehicle. Her friends took her places sometimes, but she often felt bad about asking for rides, so she only saw them around school and such. Her last resort was her sister, but she left long ago. It only took her a year to grow tired of things, only a year to get out. It had taken her four to get this far. She always wondered why she hadn’t taken her with him. Now, though, she had it all planned, she was ready, and tonight was the night. She was finally going to escape from him, from the overload of things. Life really isn’t this hard, she knew that. 7

Why tonight though, this special night… With tomorrow being her 18th birthday, Natalie knew it was the best time to do it. No one would remember it, and they wouldn’t piece it together. Her finally being of legal age, finally able to do what she wanted to do for so long, what she’s needed to do for so long. While it might seem dramatic to some, while no one even knew what went on, except her and Brad (and God, if He was really there, she often wondered), it really wasn’t good enough to sit around and let it go on. Let it continue like this, not while she had another choice. Not while she could run away and leave it there behind herself without thinking they would come for her, because she knew they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t worry. She had the money; she had been saving up for four years. She had little jobs around town, picking up cans, and working in the grocery store during the summer, small things like that, but it accumulated. It was enough to get by at first, until she could get a steady income and find somewhere to live. She had gone over the plans in her mind a trillion times if she had done it once, everything was perfect and she was so sure it was going to work. How could it not? Who would miss her? 8

After going over all of this, Natalie flopped over on her bed onto her stomach to check the time. 10:37 P.M. the red lights reflected onto her face as she nuzzled her chin into her pillow; smiling sweetly to herself and thinking about what the night had in store for her. Only a few more hours and she was gone, she was going to be out of there for good. Her closet was already cleared and her drawers were cleaned out. What she wasn’t taking, she had given it to the Goodwill in town. 9

“This is it,” she thought to herself as she lied back down onto her bed, staring off into the imaginary space beyond her ceiling and the dead still fan hanging beneath it. She picked up her pretty little locks and started gently pulling away at the ends as she, once again, went into her plans about tonight. The night… the end of terror.10