Author’s Note: I would like to note that a) I have no freaking clue where this came from, b) this isn’t really making a statement about anything, and c) if anyone knows what the heck’s going on, do you care to let me know? Because the story didn’t.
Warnings: Rape, abuse, swearing, violence. Don’t read if you’ve got unresolved issues, I’ll feel bad for making you freak out.
Legal Stuff: If your name ends with ‘Co.’, the answer is no. (But humans are free to repost elsewhere; the world’s better when we all share.)
Only The Beautiful
“She got the death penalty.”
I stop.
The words aren’t spoken to me. No one’s spoken to me in years. But they make me pause.
My husband, Zack, looks at me with green expressive eyes and I start to move again, collecting the plates. We had Mom and Dad over for dinner. They never spoke, but they liked my cooking enough to eat.
Now it’s evening and I’m clearing the dishes. Coffee’s brewing in the pot. The beautiful evening sun streams through the windows, sliced into artistically uneven ribbons by the various pieces of Mississippi foliage. And while Mom hangs approvingly on his every word, Dad, somehow not sweating in his nicer-than-usual work clothes, tells Zack about Jessica.
My hands move slowly as I collect the plates.
I…don’t think I knew Jessica, to be honest. She was just some random girl. In Mississippi, in 2050, she wasn’t anything to concern myself with. Hell, she would have been competition if she weren’t so obsessed with programming.
As it was, though, she was a nerd and I was ‘better than her’, in my childish mind. After all, who did the boys want…?
My hand trembles.
Zack glares at me. I still my hand obediently, moving to the dishwasher.
He’s right. I shouldn’t think like that. It’s bad for me.
Instead I open the dishwasher and load it, listening as Zack asks, “So what happened? She kill someone with her fat rolls?”
Dad and Mom guffaw. I snort. Jessica wasn’t that fat, at least as far as I remember, but still, it was funny.
“Nah.” Dad lowers his voice. “They say they found her…you know. With a man.”
Zack raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“She didn’t.” Mom says hastily. “The poor family, such a disgrace…she was wearing some new clothes, you know, that disgusting stuff only the young would wear.” She gestures at her dress, all but a burlap sack with flowers patterned on it. Look how much better I am, she says with her hands, the woman who dresses like an idiot. “And she was out alone…”
Out alone…
Such a pretty dress…
My hands tremble.
No. No. Not in front of them. Please, no…
Please…
“Such a pretty dress, senorita.”
The glass is green, I recite to myself. Trembling. But it’s green.
Hot, heavy breath. Weight on me. No. Let go. Please let go. Let–
It’s a memory. Just a memory. Let it pass.
“Whassa matter? Don’tcha want it?”
CRASH!
I snap back.
Zack looks at me, takes in the broken dish and my ashen face, and stands.
I’m trembling. Even my blonde hair is shaking. And after all these years, I know it’s foolish, but I still can’t help but hope that Zack will reach out and hold me, even if it’s traditional to leave me in silence.
SMACK!
I stumble into the refrigerator.
Zack goes back to his seat and says something, I can hear the low rumble of his voice through the ringing of my ears. Mom and Dad laugh.
Bitterness sweeps over me, and I kneel, trying not to catch the pieces of glass in my skirt.
I guess when Zack looked at me, he didn’t see my face.
He just saw the broken plate.
* * *
That night Zack slams the door shut, and I wince.
“You know, I do you so many favors.” He begins, unbuttoning his shirt.
I nod obediently.
“I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. You know the rules.” Zack continues, exposing his beautiful doll-like skin to me. I want to shudder and run from that fake, porcelain body.
Instead I nod.
“So why are you such a bitch?”
I wince.
Zack sighs and starts unstrapping his belt, and this time I actually do shudder. “If you can’t obey, then you have to face the consequences. It’s time you learned that.”
I bite back a gasp. That was like a punch in the stomach, even when I’m sitting in our dark bedroom facing away from him. He always said that.
And he’s always talking about that night.
Zack walks over to me and sighs. “You know I don’t like doing this.”
Then why do you do it?
“Come here. Now.”
I come there.
It hurts. It always hurts. And I find out firsthand that Zack does like doing this, and that it’s easy to soothe his wrath when I just move in special ways. No, I don’t find out–I know. I’ve known since our wedding night.
And then, later, he’s sated.
I lay there in the darkness and watch as the cars’ headlights flash through the room. Zack lets me leave the blinds open at night. I honestly don’t know why I like watching it so much; light, and the patterns it makes, just seem beautiful to me.
After about ten cars, though, I realize Zack’s asleep.
I untangle myself gently from his arms, getting on some old clothes. Just jeans and a shirt. I like them, I really do, and I like her to see me this way.
Then I walk down the hall.
There is a door we never open, but tonight, like every other night, I’ve stolen the key. I put it in the lock and turn, pushing the door in.
Pink greets me. It’s dark, fittingly enough; although it’s always night when Mommy visits, the darkness of such a sweet and innocent color seems cheerful. And Destiny lays in her bed, exhausted from a day of play.
My daughter looks so sweet.
I reach out, shaking her. She blinks and yawns, rubbing her eyes. “Mommy?” She asks weakly, then her tiny face lights up. “Mommy!” She whispers ecstatically, throwing her arms around me.
“Hey, Destiny!” I whisper back, hugging her tightly. “Oh, honey, I missed you so much…” I kiss the top of her head, feeling tears blinking in my eyes.
“Mommy, who was here?” Destiny asks, curiously.
“Grandma and Grandpa, honey.” I tell her.
Destiny looks at the ground, anger and pain mingling on her sweet face. Oh, my darling angel. I wish you didn’t feel this way. “Other kids get to meet their grandparents.” She mutters rebelliously.
I kiss her forehead. “I know, honey. Soon. I promise. How was school?” Tell me about anything, child, just don’t look that way.
Destiny lights up and tells me all about the frog they have as a pet in their classroom, and how she might even be allowed to go on the next field trip if she promises to be good and never, ever go near a boy. “But I don’t wanna be near boys.” She says disdainfully. “Boys are icky.”
Yes, my child, I think, and how well you’ve learned that little lesson.
The talk ends soon enough. I can only be away from Zack for so long, after all. So I raise the blankets and tuck her in. Then, quietly, I sing to my daughter as she drifts into the dreamland.
When I’m sure she’s asleep I stand.
Sometimes, in my darkest moments, when the voices haunt me, I hate this girl, because her father is a rapist. Not Zack; I had Destiny a full year before I married Zack. It was just some random, drunk man.
I go to the doorway, then turn.
The full wrongness of it hits me then. I made the mistake. I wore those clothes; I was out too late; I wasn’t able to fight off a drunk man who knocked me down. This mistake was mine.
But this is the Deep South, and we’re good folks here, y’all. And the sinner’s daughter…well, she’ll probably grow up just as bad.
After all, if the mama’s a whore, so’s the baby.
And so Destiny takes the punishment for my crime.
My vision starts to blur and I angrily wipe away the tears. No, I tell myself. Don’t cry.
Why not? The angry, childish part of me demands. No one will care anyway.
No, I reply. You will.
Listen, I tell myself as I look at Destiny, that man has taken everything from you. You don’t speak, you barely eat, and you can’t even remember your own name. Even your child has been locked away.
But he cannot make you cry.
I wait, but the childish part of me just sniffles and then wipes the tears away. I nod to myself. Good.
Then I turn and walk out of Destiny’s room.
I try not to see the symbolism in locking the door.
* * *
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
I look up from the dishes in surprise.
Destiny looks guilty and horrified. She’s doing her homework at the kitchen table while I do dishes. It’s utterly forbidden, and if Zack were here I’d be beaten within an inch of my life, but I want to be sure she’s doing her math right.
I reach out, take Destiny, and shove her out.
“But Mama–!” She starts.
I shove her away.
She understands and darts out of the door. I run past the kitchen table, grabbing the homework and shoving it into a drawer on the way to the back door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Yes, yes, I’m coming, I snap irritably in my head as I yank open the door–
“Oh my god.”
And there, standing on my back porch, is Jessica, in a prison uniform, dripping blood from her brown hair, and looking at me in horror. Then she drops the knife she was holding. It lands with a clatter on the wood porch.
We stare.
“Mommy?” Destiny asks from around the corner. “Can I come out?”
Oh, god. I turn and Jessica grabs my arm. “Yeah, honey.” Jess says, her voice hoarse. “You can come out now.”
Destiny frowns as she walks out, then stares too. “You’ve got an owie.” She says, impressed. “A big owie.”
I cough, shaking my head and starting to take control. “Uh…Destiny, this is Mommy’s friend Jessica.” I turn and realize that I can’t say what I want (or rather, scream “What the hell happened?!”), and instead march to the drawer and pull out Destiny’s homework. “Here.” I stammer. “Y…you do homework…and you, you come in, Jess…I’ll get the first-aid kit…”
Jessica slowly bends, picks up the knife, walks in, and sits down.
I go to the bathroom and get the first-aid kit, floored. Jessica? Here? What is she doing? How is she alive?
What the hell is going on?
I walk back into the kitchen and see Jessica easily answer the math problems with a split skull. I envy her suddenly. She got to finish high school, didn’t she? And she might have even gone to college.
I wish I had.
I wet a cloth and sit across from Jessica. “This…this might sting a bit.” I warn. Damn my stutter. It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to another person…
“Thanks, Lauren.”
I pause, staring.
Jessica blinks. “Uh…you okay?”
“You…you remember my name?” I stammer.
We stare again.
“You guys stare a lot.” Destiny comments, watching us half in awe, half in the sarcastic condescension of a child.
That does it, we crack up.
“Oh, god.” I say with relish. “Jessica. Oh, my god. Dad said you were dead–“
“I almost was.” Jessica says in low tones, taking the cloth from my hands. “Here. You go make tea. I’ll deal with this.” She smiles charmingly. “They don’t give you great food on the run.”
I stand and start making her some lunch. Thank God for Zack’s Saturday bowling. Otherwise we’d be in big trouble. “Jessica, what happened?” I demand.
“What happened to you?” Jessica demands back, raising an eyebrow. “Lauren, you vanished. And who the heck’s this kid?” She nods at Destiny, sending a smile the child’s way to let her know that she’s all bark and no bite.
“That’s…” I hesitate. “Jessica, meet my daughter, Destiny.” I say.
Destiny swells with pride. Zack and I have never introduced her to anyone before, except the priest, and she was too small to remember him glaring and telling her that she was going to have to work hard if she wanted to overcome her mother’s fall.
Jessica pales.
“That night when you went out to drink.” She says.
I nod.
“Oh. Oh…oh god.” Jessica breathes.
I take the tea and lunch to the table. “It’s over, Jess.” I say shortly. “Tell me about you.”
Jessica laughs, suddenly, harshly. “What do you think?” She demands. “Some bastard raped me.”
I flinch.
Jessica sighs and starts eating. “They locked me up.” She mutters. “Threw away the key. Said they were gonna stone me. It’s the law now, y’know?”
“No.”
Jessica blinks.
“Jess…” I pause.
Tears are blurring my vision.
“I haven’t been outside since Destiny was born.” I say in a low tone, praying she doesn’t hear but not having the heart to send her to her bedroom. “Zack won’t tell me anything. I’m…” I stop, letting the bitter, tearful laugh escape. “Jess, I don’t even know what my name is.”
Jessica just stares.
“Destiny?” She says slowly. “You have a backpack?”
Destiny looks up and nods.
“Go fill it with clothes. You can take one doll and one book, but the rest of it has to be full of your stuff, okay?” Jessica orders, standing.
Destiny lights up. “Are we goin’ on a field trip?”
“Yep.” Jessica says shortly.
Destiny scampers off.
“Now wait a minute–” I start as Jessica opens and shuts doors. “Jess, wait. I can’t just leave.”
“Why not?” Jessica demands.
“What about Zack?”
“What the hell about him?”
What the… “Jessica!” She returns from the hall closet with a bag, and I stand in front of her. “Jessica, stop this now. He’s my husband, and I love him very much. Now put the bag down.”
“Why?”
I stare.
Jessica sets the bag down and sighs.
“Lauren, you remember how everyone loved you in high school?” She asks slowly.
“Yeah.” I nod, ashamed.
“I loved you too.”
What the fuck?
Jessica catches my stare. “Not that way.” She snorts. “Lauren, you had it all. You were beautiful, kind, and above all else…” She sighs. “Lauren,” She says, facing me and reaching out to touch my shoulders, “You wanted to learn. You didn’t skip class or try to cheat. You and I, we were the only ones who had good grades at that school. And that means something.”
“What, I’m part of the Honor Roll now?” I snort, moving away. “Should I join the Glee club too?”
Jessica rolls her eyes and turns to the pantry, starting to put canned goods in the bag. “In this world, a girl’s got two options. Option one, go fuck someone. Get married. Have kids.” She glares at me with dark brown eyes. “Option two? Get a damn job. And that’s what we both wanted.”
“So what?” I reply. “Does it matter? That’s the past, Jess. We have to move on.”
Jessica pauses. “Really?” She asks. “Do you really think that?”
I nod.
Jessica sighs, then continues loading cans into her bag. “You’re brainwashed, you fucktard.”
“…What.”
“Brain. Washed.” Jess zips the bag shut. “And I’m gonna save you, because you’re a blasted idiot but you don’t deserve this. Now your husband’s got a car, right? So where’s the keys?”
I stare.
Jess probably would have said something, but that was the moment when the door crashed open and Zack walked in.
And stopped.
His friends, come over for some reason, stared. They knew his wife was a whore. And the proof was right in front of their eyes–the illegitimate child walking out of her room with a pack full of clothes, the escaped prisoner holding food, and the wife, caught, as she tried to escape the punishment she’d earned.
And Zack, my sweet beloved Zack, raises a gun.
“Well, well, well.” He says. “Would you look at this.”
I step forward. “Zack. Please.” I walk closer, trying to defuse, to at least shield them, the friend I never had and the child I was never allowed to love. “Zack, it’s okay, we can turn her over to the police–“
His strike hurts.
“Shut up.” He snarls.
He surveys the room, and his friends stare, too.
“Zack.”
I’m stunned at my own words. Jessica looks like a truck hit her.
“Zack, please.” I whisper, walking closer, hanging on him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you have every right to be mad. But please. Don’t hurt them. Just turn Jess over to the police. I’ll do anything. Please.”
Silence.
For a second, sweet precious second, I think he’s considering it.
Then he pulls me away.
BAM!
I scream and Jessica stumbles back, raising her hand to her shoulder, her shoulder, oh thank God it was only her shoulder. I turn to run to her and Zack stops me, grabbing my arm so hard it bruises.
“I wasn’t gonna use this.” He snarls, raising the gun. “Why’d you make me use it, you bitch?”
“I’m sorry.” I babble. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–“
“Fuck. You.”
That shuts me up, and I stare at Jess.
She leans heavily against the kitchen table. Her face is pale and sweat is starting to spring up, and blood is staining her orange jumpsuit.
And she speaks.
“Ain’t no one,” She says through her labored breaths, her accent growing thicker through the pain, “Makin’ you raise that barrel. Ain’t no one telling you to shoot.” Her eyes open, piercing in their hate. “Zack, that’s all you.”
Zack stares.
“Now you get your ass outside.” Jessica says. “All of you. And you let me and Lauren and Destiny here go. Because I ain’t gonna let you wreck their lives no more.”
Zack raises the gun.
I don’t know why I do it. Hell, I don’t know if I’m even thinking straight. But I do anyway.
And when Zack shoots, his wrist is pointed at himself, because I’m in the way.
Zack stares.
I tear the gun from his grasp, raise it, and fire, a single shot that’s nowhere near loud enough and somehow too loud at the same time. And I don’t know why, but when he falls his friends scream and run away.
And then I turn.
“Jess?” Someone asks. I think it’s me. “You alive?”
Jessica grunts.
“Can you drive?”
“Yeah.” She whispers, looking at me. The pain is fading now. I can’t tell what’s replacing it, because I’m not here. Some other me is walking over to the key drawer with a firmness I thought I’d long ago lost and pulling out the car keys.
And as I toss them to her, I see my hand.
The blood doesn’t belong there. Then again, none of this did.
“Mommy?”
I glance down at Destiny, then at Zack, dead.
“Destiny, go with Jessica.” I tell her. “Go on your field trip.”
“Wait, Lauren–” Jessica starts.
“Jess, someone’s gotta take the blame.” I tell her. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
“They’ll stone you.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I know.”
Our eyes meet.
You can say a lot with eyes. I love you. Get going. I won’t leave. You have to. You can’t sacrifice yourself. I already have. Why not be free? Because then the chase won’t ever stop.
I’ll miss you.
I know.
Our visions blur. Jessica walks awkwardly over to me and hugs me, holds me so tightly it’s as if her life depends on mine. I clutch her just as closely.
“Thank you.” I whisper, then kneel and hold Destiny. Oh, my baby girl. I wish I’d gotten to know you. “Now,” I say, putting on my Mommy Voice, “You be good for Jessica, you hear? And when you’re in public, you call her ‘Mommy’. Nobody can know. Understand?”
Destiny nods. “Mommy? Aren’t you coming?”
“No, Mommy’s got some errands to run. But I’ll catch up.” I lie. I stand. “Get going, Jess.”
Jessica nods, taking Destiny’s hand and leading her outside. At the door, she pauses.
“Lauren…”
I look at her calmly.
I’ve lived in this world for my whole life. I’ve been tortured time and again by voices. If I left now, I would never have a chance, and I would bring nothing but trouble.
But if they leave, then they can live.
“Be strong.” I tell Jess.
She nods and then takes Destiny. I hear the door shut. Hear the car start, pull out of the driveway.
I wait.
Five, ten minutes pass. It’s official; I’ve been left behind. So I look down on the ground at the man I killed.
An idea occurs, and I take off his belt, taking the kitchen knife. Careful not to cut myself, I hack through the leather, chopping the belt into tiny pieces and throwing them into the trash can. I nod to myself. Good. There’s only one thing left to do.
I check the ammo in the gun before I walk down the hall.
There’s a room we never go into, Zack and I. It’s not his child’s room. It’s not anything to him. But to me, it’s the room of my daughter.
Part of me can’t help but notice the sunlight streaming everywhere, and I wonder if the pink will be lighter this time.
I take out the key and unlock the door.
Yes, I see as I raise the gun. The pink is light. The room is bright, beautiful. And part of me thinks that the way the light shines on the walls and the scattered toys just seems impossibly perfect.
Then I pull the trigger.
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