Facing the Past

It’s been nearly two weeks since anyone has seen or spoken to Madeline. The last trace of her was the phone call to her friend and her bloody car. The police questioned Stan for hours, but without any evidence and the hospital security cameras as an alibi, they had no choice but to let him go. Marge continues to believe that he’s behind her disappearance despite it all.

Marge pulls up to the house to find someone sitting on her porch drenched head to toe from the rain. Pulling into the drive, she discovers it’s her long-lost friend.

“Madeline,” she says. Running across the lawn, she pulls Madeline into her arms and hugs her tight. “Where have you been? We’ve all been worried sick.”

“I decided to stay with my Aunt in Florida, hoping I can figure things out.”

“I’m so glad you’re home and that you’re alright. Come inside. I’ll scrounge up some dry clothes and a bite to eat.”

Madeline shivers. “I’m not very hungry, but dry clothes and a long hot bath sure sounds nice?”

She laughs at her trembling friend. “That can be arranged.”

***

Marge is frying the last of the bacon when Madeline races into the kitchen. She’s dripping water on the white tile floor as she goes.

"Something is wrong with Katie. I know it. I can feel it in my heart," she cries, putting her hand on her chest. "I have to go see her, Marge. I have to," she blurts out.

Turning, she sees her quivering friend naked in the doorway."You’re not going anywhere like that.” She laughs.

Madeline's face turns a scarlet red when she realizes what she’s done. "I'll get the car, and you get dressed. I mean..."

Marge laughs again. "I know what you mean.” Picking up her cell, she hands it to Madeline. “Why don't we just call her instead?”

Grabbing the phone, Madeline dials the house phone. Her hands tremble as it rings. "No one is answering."

“Maybe you dialed the wrong number.”

Hanging up, Madeline tries again. The phone continued to ring. “They’re still not answering.

Marge points to the clock and says, "They could be out for the day."

"I'll call her cell." Madeline dials the number. It goes to voicemail. She turns to her friend and says, "Something is wrong, Marge. I can feel it in my bones."

***

Madeline fidgets with her clothes as she and Marge speed across town. They stopped by the school only to be told that Katie was absent today. They went on to say that she’d been absent quite a bit these past few weeks and that her absenteeism is affecting her grades. Hearing the news, the duo raced across town. Madeline called the house and both of the cells several times on the way over, but no one picked up.

"I'll never forgive myself if something has happened to Katie, never," she cries. Anxiously straightening her clothes for the umpteenth time.

"Relax, honey. I'm sure everything is alright. She's probably just playing hooky like we used to do back in the day."

With fear in her eyes, Madeline turns towards her friend and says, "I hope that’s all it is."

Madeline hops out of the car as soon as Marge pulls up to the house. Stan’s car is gone, but there are several lights on inside. Madeline storms inside to find her battered child lying motionless on the couch. She first sees that she’s breathing. She then realizes that her eyes are nearly swollen shut, and her once beautiful face is a bloody, battered mess. Scooping her into her arms, Madeline holds her tight.

"Daddy went crazy on me, mommy, completely nuts. Like he was possessed or something. And… And that look he gave me. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to die." The child sobs.

Picturing the crazed look Stan often gets sent shivers down Madeline’s spine. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Katie. I'm so sorry that it happened to you.”

"I think we should take her to the hospital to get her checked out. "

Marge scans her daughter’s injuries. "You're right. We should.”

The child glances at her mother and then her aunt. "Daddy will get into trouble if I do."

"We certainly wouldn't want that now, would we?” She sweeps her hand over the top of the battered child’s body. “Especially not after he’s treated you so well."

Madeline glares at her friend. “I’ll see what I can do.” She gets to her feet, Katie pulls her back down.

“Don’t go, mommy. Please don’t leave me with him.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going anywhere. Except to get the kit, of course. Madeline returns a few minutes later with a small red box in her hands. “Let me see if I can get you fixed up.”

"It was awful, Mommy, just awful," Katie cries as Madeline doctors her wounds. " Please don’t leave me here with him, mommy. Oh, please don’t leave me here with him," the young girl sobs.

"I won’t, honey, I promise."

“A few weeks ago, you were hoping your mom would be locked up with your sister. I guess you figured out that being daddy's little princess isn't all it's cracked up to be, Marge mumbles under her breath.

“What was that?”

"Are you ready to get a restraining order now, or do you want your family to end up the way Sarah’s did?" She's been telling Madeline about all the women who died from domestic abuse, hoping it'd scare her into leaving.

"We can’t do that to daddy. We can’t,” Katie says, springing to her feet.

"It'll prevent this from happening again," Marge explains.

"I don't want to do that. I don't. It'd kill daddy if I do," Katie sobs.

"He certainly can't go on treating you this way.”

"Marge is right, Katie. We can't let him keep getting away with this."

The distraught child glances at Marge and then at her mom. "No, I won't do it, I won't. I won’t. I'll... I'll claim I was mugged if you go to the cops."

"He'll hurt you worse the next time," Marge states.

Katie replays the event in her mind how she's been pushing the boundaries now that her mom and sister are away.

"There won't be a next time there won't. I'll... I'll do what he says. Not be such a brat anymore."

"There will always be a next time, honey, no matter what you say or do. And each time will be more violent than the last."

"It won’t be that way. It won’t. It won’t. You’ll see.”

Madeline takes her daughter's hands into hers. "I thought that it was my fault too, and I could fix it somehow. You see how that turned out."

"I don't care. I'm not turning him in. I'm not. I’m not."

"You can put a restraining order on him, Madeline, without Kaite's help," Marge suggests.

"I don't have any proof."

"You went to the hospital, didn't you?"

"Yes, but..."

"That's all the proof you need."

"I lied to the doctor about what happened."

"I'm sure they saw right through your stories."

"Please, mama, please don't do this to him, to our family," Katie begs.

Madeline looks into her child's pleading eyes. "We’ll never be safe again if I don't."

"Things will be different now that you’re home.”

"It'll be different for her, but what about you? You have to consider your well-being too."

Katie glares at her aunt. "You stay out of this, Marge. This is a family matter, and it doesn't concern you."

"I am family, like it or not, and I’ll say damn well what I want. "Did you know that your mom nearly took...." Glancing at her friend, she continues.

Madeline jumps to her feet. "That is enough, Marge," she screams, glaring at her friend.

"She needs to know what he’s been doing to you for over thirty years."

The front door squeaks open. They turn to find Stan walking through the door.

Years of abuse come flooding back, leaving Madeline in a paralyzed state. She then remembers the promise she made to herself the night she almost ended her life.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" he growls, stomping towards them.

Madeline glances at her battered child. I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen to either of us again. "It's our house, Stan, which gives me as much right to be here as you," she yells.

"How dare you speak to me like that." He bawls up his hand. A crazed look spreads across his face.

"Go ahead, Stan, Do it so that I can claim self-defense." Madeline pulls a black revolver out of her pocket. Her eyes turn cold. She gives him a deadly stare. With every ounce of courage she can muster, she growls through gritted teeth, "I dare you, Stan." Madeline cocks her gun.

"Don't do it," Marge yells, leaping over the couch.