Trouble All Around

Opening her eyes, Julie glances around to find she's lying on a small cot in the basement. She and Jeff set up the impromptu bedroom a few months back when their friend, Sarah, needed a safe place to stay. Sarah's husband came home from the bar late one night and beat her to a pulp.

Why am I on this bed? The evening's horrific events replay in Julie's mind. The man beat her senseless. Then he drags her battered body through the house and shoves her head-first down the basement stairs. She then recalls what the kidnapper had said as he was climbing off the cot.

"I'll be back for more after I finish with the girls."

Terror surges through every ounce of her body, tears streaming down her bloody face. I have to save my babies from that horrid man. Julie springs up. The restraints jerk her back down to the bed. Aggravated, Julie tries again. The ropes pull her down a second time. Julie moves her arms and legs to find them secured to the frame. Visions of her daughter's cold, naked body strapped to the bed suddenly come to mind. "I have to stop them, somehow." Childhood horrors replace her first thought, paralyzing her both mentally and physically. Night after night, Uncle Charley would sneak into her room and do ungodly things to her. Soon after, he was pimping her out to his friends.

Julie then recalls how these lewd acts made her feel so dirty, so vile. No matter how many showers she took or how hard she scrubbed her skin, she never felt clean again. Julie felt like she was a worthless piece of garbage, undeserving of anything good.

Soon after, she convinced herself that her and Uncle Charley's nightly encounters were her fault somehow. That it never would've happened if she didn't act and didn't dress the way she did. She started dressing conservatively, stopped wearing makeup, let her hygiene go, and cut her hair, similar to her brothers. Julie bawled with every scissor snip, but she knew she had to do it. The excessive changes didn't discourage him. Julie's self-confidence and self-esteem plummeted to an all-time low. The once happy-go-lucky, energetic child would mope around day after day. Her hopes and dreams for the future seemed to vanish into thin air. Everything she used to enjoy didn't seem to matter to her anymore. She often felt like she was a robot going through the motions of life. Her lack of interest continued for years, always keeping the dirty secret to herself. It wasn't until she met Jeff that she started coming out of it. With a lot of persistence and patients, he was able to break through the protective barriers she'd put up.

Fighting her inner demons lurking in the shadows deep within her soul, she pushes the crippling memory aside. "I'm not going to let what happened to me happen to them. With all the determination she can muster, Julie tries to wiggle free. Every bone and every muscle in her slim, tan body throbs. A pain far worse than she's ever felt before. I need to save the girls. Julie grits her teeth and then tugs on the restraints again. The course ropes cut deep into her flesh, causing blood to pour from her wrists, soaking into the bed. Her girl's beautiful faces pop into her head. I can't stop now. She tried to wiggle free, but the restraints wouldn't give. Exhausted, Julie falls back on the bed. "It's no use," she sobs.

Julie hears crying in the room above her. Horrid images race through her mind. I have to keep trying. She pulls on the ropes again.

Uncle Charley's smiling face suddenly comes to mind. "Fuck you, Uncle Charley. You and all your friends. I hope all you sick pervs rot in hell for what you did to my friends and me." With new strength, she jerks on the ligatures again. Her frail, battered body weakens. The knots on the side of her head throb so intensely that it feels like dozens of hammers are chipping away at her skull.

"Lord, please don't let them hurt my babies, " she begs, struggling with her restraints again. The more she tugs, the weaker she becomes. The once-white sheets are now a crimson red. Please help us get out of this, Lord. Please help us get out of this. Please help us escape this somehow, Julie mutters, slipping out of consensus again.

***

The moon shines brightly through the far east window, casting shadows across the room. The wind whips the tree limb against the side of the house, strumming out a rhythmic tune. Joe is lying quietly in bed, reliving today's events in his mind.

He first recalls what Rachel had said about the business owner acting nervous like there is more to the story than she's letting on. Rachel's gut instinct is usually correct, but why would the owners burn the place down after putting so much into it last winter? Maybe the upgrades didn't pay off the way they'd hoped. Or maybe all the construction put them in so much debt that this was the only way they could get out. I'm sure Rachel will figure it out in the morning.

Joe pictures his detective in his mind and sighs. I've been crazy about that girl for years: her annoying laughs and all. Joe then imagens the devastated look on Rache's face when she walks away. She tried to cover up her broken heart, but Joe's known her too long not to see through her charade.

Why did I tell her what I did when it's the furthest from the truth? She's not an annoying pain in my ass. Now we're both miserable all because I'm to chicken to admit the truth. He pictures telling her what he really thinks. He then remembers the last time he tried. I'm such a coward a big fat wuss. Frustrated with himself, he slams his hands on the bed. I run in the line of fire nearly every day, even have face-offs with men twice my size. So why am I so yellow bellied when it comes to the matters of the heart? Why am I so scared to ask her out? It's not like we're strangers. We've known each other most of our lives. His mom, and Rachel's stepmom, Bonnie, hung out a lot when Joe and Rachel were young.

He recalls a few times they'd spent together as children. I was smitten with her way back when. Then, like now I kept it to myself. Will I ever be able to tell her how I feel, or am I destined to admire her from afar? Probably the latter if things continue the way they are.

Closing his eyes, Joe drifts into a deep, peaceful sleep and immediately dreams about his and Rachel's wedding day.

He's at the front of the Baptist church. The preacher is at the altar. Jerry and the Captain are by his side.

"This is it, boss," Jerry says as he gazes out amongst the crowd. Over half the town has shown up for their blessed event.

"I didn't think it'd ever happen, Jerry."

"Me either, boss." He chuckles, remembering Joe and Rachel's heated debates.

The Wedding March begins. There is shuffling amongst the crowd as the group stands. The flower girl and bridesmaids stroll down the aisle. He then sees his beautiful bride gracefully saunter toward him, her daddy by her side. The crowd oohs and aahs over the beautiful bride.

That breathtaking beauty will soon be my wife, my partner for life, Joe thinks, smiling proudly.

Rachel is wearing a long, white gown with a lace neckline, waist, and sleeves. Gold sequins border either side of the skirt; a small strand dangles across the middle. A cathedral train flows elegantly behind her.

I'm the luckiest man alive.

His dream fasts forward to his and Rachel's two-story Victorian, located on the outskirts of town. The house is a daffodil yellow with eggshell white awing and trim. An off-white picket fence encompasses the lofty home.

Joe pulls up to find four beautiful children playing in the yard; Rachel is on the porch swing, their newest addition in her arms.

"Daddy home, Daddy home," Joe Junior runs to greet him. Tossing the toddler on his shoulders, Joe heads towards the house. "I've been wanting to do this all day." Pulling Rachel against him, he leans in for a kiss. Joe feels her soft lips brush against his. I'm in heaven, he thinks.

His ringing phone startled him awake. Aggravated to be woken from his beautiful dream, he huffs as he reaches for the noisy device. "Sergeant Bower." Shoving the covers aside, he throws his legs over the edge of the bed. "A break-in at Stubbs grocery?" Joe runs his hand through his thick brown hair. "I'll let my crew know."

He's searching for Jerry's number when his phone rings." Sergeant Bower. I was just about to call you." He puts the phone on speaker so he can get dressed.

Three crimes in less than twenty-four hours. We haven't had a spree like this since." Jerry thinks back but can't recall it ever happening. "Since I don't know when."

"That's what worries me, Jerry. I think the big city's crime is heading our way."

"I hope not."

"Me either."

"I'm heading that way, boss."

"I'll call Rachel and then meet you there."

"Don't forget to tell her you were dreaming about her." Jerry chuckles.

The phone clicks before Joe can respond.

Joe glances inquisitively at his cell. "How did he know?"

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, know that it's NOT YOUR FAULT, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. YOU DESERVE BETTER. There are people out there wanting to help you if you ask. Tell a teacher, a friend, a parent, or call the national sexual assault hotline at 1-800-656-4673 the national sex trafficking hotline is 1 (888) 373-7888 National Suicide Hotline is 988. Please get the help you need.

YOU'RE LIFE MATTERS.