Madeline
Trigger Warning: Contains sensitive content related to abuse and rape.
Today
“Dennis, can you please pass the salt?” Sarah asked. Sarah’s hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head and she wore the blue dress with tiny flowers Dennis bought her. She always wore the blue dress with tiny flowers. She curled a foot under herself as she touched the other one lightly with her toe.
“Here you go, baby.” Dennis passed the glass shaker. “How is the chicken? Is it cooked all the way through? I was nervous about cooking it. You know, I don’t cook often.”
“The chicken is perfect. I mean it. Thank you for this. This was very thoughtful.” Sarah glanced up at him and blew him a kiss.
“I don’t know why I don’t cook for you more often,” Denis picked up his fork and took a bite of mashed potatoes. He then used the same fork to wedge a piece of chicken from his teeth.
Sarah knew exactly why he didn’t cook for her more often. He was a busy man. She was fine eating whatever was in the small fridge and using the microwave when she was hungry. She didn’t need Dennis to cook for her every night. But she had to admit, it was nice to have him cook for her. For him to do nice things for her.
She rubbed her stomach. “Oh, the baby is kicking again.”
Dennis pushed back his chair from the small makeshift table. He knelt down and put his body between Sarah’s legs and his head near her stomach. He put both hands to her belly. He felt around looking for the movement.
“Right here,” Sarah guided his hands to the side of her stomach.
“I feel her,” Dennis said.
“Why do you think it’s a ‘her’?” Sarah asked.
“I just know,” Dennis said.
—
One year prior to today
“I’m so sorry, baby! That was wrong of me. I should not have done that,” Dennis pleaded with Sarah. Her body was curled into a ball. He reached out to touch her but she backed away into the nearest corner.
“Leave me alone,” Sarah snapped.
“I was wrong. I know that now. Please forgive me.” Dennis pleads. Dennis took a seat on the floor next to her. He scooted his butt so that he had aligned it with her shoulder and placed her head on his lap with care. Her tears seeped into his jeans. He combs his hands through her hair. “Please forgive me.”
Sarah closed her eyes. Minutes later, she was asleep. Dennis’s arms surrounding her tiny body.
—
Two years prior to today
Sarah’s face reverberated from the sting of Dennis’s hand on her cheek. She knew better than to fight back. He was bigger than her and stronger than her. That is how she got here.
“Now behave,” Dennis’s tall stature loomed over Sarah, “Or I’ll need to tie you up. Would you want that again?”
Sarah gave a single shake of her head.
“I didn’t think so.”
Sarah’s face was still turned away from Dennis. She gave a barely audible “no.” She kept her head turned as he pushed her down. Her back pushed into the mattress. He pulled down her pants and pushed into her. She laid limply while he moved above her. What else could she do?
—
Three years prior to today
“….and you will continue to lick my boot until it is perfectly shined. Do you understand?” Dennis pointed a dirty finger at Sarah. His spit landed all over. On the corner of his mouth. On the floor. But mostly on Sarah. “What do you say?”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said meekly.
“What was that?” Dennis’s voice was rough.
She gathered up what she could muster. “I’m sorry,” she said as loud as she could.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry for trying to leave.”
“And?”
“And I’m sorry for biting you.”
“That’s right. You better be thankful. Do you see all that I do for you,” Dennis holds his arms up and looks around the room. “This is all possible because of me.”
—
Four years prior to today
The blanket that covered Sarah only did so much. She was cold and Dennis did not turn the heat on before leaving the house. She had not heard from Dennis for three days now. Three days without heat or without food. Sarah turned onto her side, hoping that changing position would be warmer. But it did not help. She looked down at the filthy rug that covered the room’s floor. Perhaps that could provide more barrier from the cold. She moved the furniture and pulled the rug onto the bare mattress and wrapped it around her body and her blanket. Her stomach rumbled.
He had provided for her over the past year. He had bought her a blue dress with tiny flowers. He made a dining table for her with two mismatched chairs. He brought in a tiny refrigerator and microwave. But these items only came when he was in a good mood. When he was in a good mood and he was home to provide them.
She could scream for help, but she knew better than to do that. She had tried it before. No one will hear.
—
Five years prior to today
“Let me out, you fucker,” Sarah’s voice had become completely horse from screaming. She banged her fists on the door with half the gusto she had the first time she slammed her fist against the door a few hours earlier.
She sat on the first step of the staircase leading down to the room he had locked her in. Her fists had become bruised from the door. She had tried picking the lock and she had tried to climb out the small window. The only window in the small basement room, about six inches tall. She was small and still growing but six inches was too small.
The room had a bed with a bare stained mattress. It had a stained toilet and a sink. There was a shelf with paint buckets, boxes of books, and other items. But none of it was useful to her.
She felt like she had tried everything she possibly could. Her only hope was if he let her out of the basement room.
—
Five years ago and one day ago
A prick hit the side of Sarah’s neck. The mild pain was enough to wake her and then she heard a man’s voice inches from her face.
“Don’t move or I’ll slit your fucking throat,” said a rough but quiet voice. A voice she will learn to know very well, but on this night sounded foreign.
“Put this around your hands,” the man’s voice said and handed her something thin and plastic.
She was frightened and wanted to scream, but the sharp object to her throat told her that if she does what the rough man asks, he will take what he came for and leave. She did as he said and put the thin loop of plastic around her hands. With the knife still against her throat; he pulls the plastic strip so that it’s tight around her hands. Zip ties.
He pulled something from his arm sleeve that held the knife, and put it on her mouth. Tape. Sarah moved her lips trying to get the tape loose. But the tape was too strong.
He removes the knife from her neck and zip ties her feet. A bag goes over her head and he lifts her from her bed and carries her out, what Sarah presumes is, her bedroom window.
—
Present day
“What names are you thinking about her?” Sarah asked, swiping his hair out of his face while simultaneously rubbing the part of her belly Dennis was not touching. Her smile beamed down onto him.
He does not take long to respond. “Mabel. I would like to call her Mabel.”
“That’s an interesting name.”
“That was my grandmother’s name. She was the one who saved me from the hell of a home I was living in.”
