Revival

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Revival Page 8

by Kirkpatrick, S.


  Abel has me wrapped in his strong arms, my back to his front, his nose nuzzled in the side of my neck. As he holds me, he looks over my shoulder at our darling children that look exactly like him.

  He places a few kisses on my neck, giving me goose-bumps down my arms. His touch is like the air I need to breathe, seeping in through my skin. I turn my head back to look at him and he just smiles, not saying a word.

  Happiness.

  Pure, innocent, true happiness.

  A dark shadow forms overhead, taking away the light from our private moment. A familiar uneasiness fills me. I turn back around to see what’s causing this unwelcomed feeling and am met with the eyes of a monster.

  “Come back to me, Maxine. It’s time.”

  No! No, no, no, no! This can’t be happening. He can’t be here. Not around my family. I won’t let him poison this. I won’t let him take our happiness.

  “Abel, help!”

  “He can’t save you, Maxine. You’re mine. You belong to me. Always have. Always will.”

  I let out a scream as I whip my head around to plead with Abel to help. Why isn’t he helping? But when I turn, Abel is slowly fading away in front of my face, vanishing like an apparition.

  I turn to the twins, I have to get them out of here.

  But they’re already gone.

  “This life isn’t real Maxine. It was always just a wrong and dirty betrayal you dreamed up while I was away. Your life is with me. You know that. I know that. Stop fighting me.”

  “No. I will never stop fighting to get away from you, Rob. When will you see that? Just… Just let me go. Give me back my family!” I scream, rising to my feet.

  “I am your family, Maxine. That’s all you should ever need. Don’t be so fucking ungrateful.”

  “I hate you, Rob. Don’t you get that?”

  “I said, stop fighting me.” He rears back and slaps me across the face, I fall back on the picnic blanket, unable to get back up.

  I’m jolted awake by a slap to the face. “I said it’s time to eat!”

  I choke back a sob. I can’t afford to keep wasting more energy on my tears. I have to stay strong, save all my energy.

  I don’t understand why he feels the need to always hurt me. Doesn’t he realize that’s what drove me away the first time?

  Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, he doesn’t. That would require him to be a goddamn human being and we’ve long since established that he’s the furthest from that. Where a heart should be in his chest, I am confident is a molten lava-filled volcano. Alive and active, but nothing more than burning chaos, chasing down the demise of anything in its path.

  “I’m sorry, I was sleeping.” I say as I glance past him and see that Bree’s limp body is no longer tied to the cement pillar in the center of the room.

  What has he done with her? Where is Bree?

  “If I wanted a fucking excuse I would ask for one. Now like I said before, it’s time to eat. Not that you’ve done anything to earn it.”

  He sits down in front of me, in a metal folding chair he must have brought in while I was sleeping. He starts spoon-feeding me some kind of mush. I don’t dare comment on how disgusting it is or how the texture makes me want to vomit.

  Although, with my all-night-long-sickness that could just mean it’s after eight at night and my internal baby clock knows it’s time for our nightly puke fest.

  He lets me eat in silence, which I greatly appreciate. I don’t want to be around this man at all, let alone make idle chit-chat with him.

  I no sooner process that thought when he’s decided to remedy the quiet situation. He sits the bowl of mush on the floor at his feet and turns his attention to me.

  “It was hard in there… Without you.”

  “Don’t.”

  “It’s true, Maxine. I love you so much. I wish you could see that. You’re all I thought about every second of every day for the last four years.”

  Oh, so I guess he’s trying to play the ‘good ol’ boy’ routine. Try and pretend to be the same guy he was when we met at the concert. I can see right through him though. It’s just an act to try and gain my trust.

  You see, here’s the thing. A lot of people often wonder how someone can end up in a situation like mine. A situation where you’re abused and can’t escape. Most people seem to think that an abuser shows their colors like a proud peacock from day one. And that just isn’t the case.

  Men like Rob, they don’t ‘start out’ as an abuser. They would never be able to get a girlfriend if they were to walk in fists flailing. No, they are much more methodical. They are true predators, reeling their prey in, waiting for the right moment to pounce. That’s when they let their ugly side shine through.

  You don’t fall in love with an abuser.

  They start out nice, caring, and charming. Then after they’ve gained your affection, your trust, they begin manipulating you in the simplest of ways. Ways that you can’t detect, making you think it’s out of protection and adoration.

  For example, they tell you how you shouldn’t have to be working. That you’re so special, you should be taken care of. How it breaks his heart to see you working a job you’re so miserable at. They start pointing out all the negative things about your job that you’ve vented about. They do this even when you have a random good day at work. You come home, excited to tell him that your boss was actually nice to you today. He reminds you of every single solitary time that your boss was horrible. He tells you not to get used to it. Not to get your hopes up. To remember all of these things the next time your boss is nice.

  You think he’s got your best interests at heart, so you listen to him. You agree with him. He tells you these things so often you start hearing his voice telling you this when shit starts going wrong at work. He turns your own thoughts toxic, poisoning you against yourself.

  You realize that you do deserve more than to be overworked by an asshole boss all while being underpaid. So you eventually give in and quit your job. You do that so you can make him happy because he tells you that spoiling you makes him happy. And it doesn’t sound like a bad gig, right? Have a guy who loves you and dotes on you while you get to pursue different things without having to go to a job every day that makes you miserable.

  It starts out small like this, and then festers and morphs into so much more. Before you know it, he’s talked you into cutting off all your friends, not going out, not trusting anyone, believing he’s the only one who gets you and values you. And before you even catch on to what’s happening, you’re completely dependent on him. Financially, emotionally, and mentally. You now have nothing without him.

  That’s when the abuse starts.

  And it never goes away. It just gets worse.

  After the first several times, he will apologize and grovel, telling you how he lost his temper because of something at work and how he was wrong. He will say he’ll never do it again. He begs for your forgiveness and tells you that his life is nothing without you and your love.

  He’ll buy you expensive things, or take you on ridiculous vacations to make up for it. And you give in and forgive him. Because you believe him… because you love him. You rationalize with yourself because he’s never acted like this before.

  Once you forgive him, things are good for a few days, maybe even a few weeks. You get the guy you fell in love with again. But before you know it, he’s going back to that dark storm cloud you don’t recognize. And it starts happening more and more often.

  You convince yourself it must be something that you’ve done because he didn’t always use to be like this. So you start going out of your way to do things to make him happy, to get back in his good graces. Losing what little bit of yourself that you have left in the process.

  All of this is playing out while you’re not even aware that it’s happening in the first place.

  You tell yourself that everything you’re doing, everything you’re changing… it will be enough. Yo
u think he’ll change back into the man he was, that it won’t always be like this. But you’re wrong. And you’re not the problem. He is.

  It was always like this after he started hitting me. He would always try and turn on the charm to make me forget about my injuries. It worked for a couple of months. But broken bones and a collapsed esophagus because the football team he was betting on lost, really opened my eyes.

  By that point, I was in too deep. I was too dependent, too caged, and too scared.

  I channel all of these memories. I remind myself of every horrible thing that he’s ever done to me. I reminding myself that I did absolutely nothing to deserve the wrath that he delivered upon me. I do all of this to gain the courage to remind myself that even though I am physically at his mercy in this chair… I will never emotionally or mentally be at his mercy again. I’ve come too damn far to allow him that kind of power again.

  “No, you don’t, Rob. You love the control you had over me. You love the pain you inflict. But you don’t love me. You don’t even know me. At least not anymore. Maybe not even then.”

  “Of course I know you. How could you even say that?”

  I notice he didn’t deny the comments about loving the control or inflicting pain. Not that I thought he would, but at least he didn’t hit me for it. I know he wants to though. I can see his fists balled up on his lap, fingernails digging into his own skin.

  That’s how hard he has to attempt to restrain himself to keep up this charade.

  “What’s my favorite band, Rob? What’s my favorite color? What’s my dream car? What are my career ambition?”

  “None of those things are of any importance, Maxine. You and I both know that.”

  “No, we don’t. And yes, they are. They are part of who I am. Part of what defines me as a person. They matter. And you can’t answer a single one can you?”

  “Your favorite band is Slipknot.”

  “No Rob, that’s your favorite band.”

  He ignores that. “And your favorite color is blue.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Your dream car is a Corvette.”

  “Nope. Again, that’s your dream car.”

  “And your career ambition should always be to please me. That’s a full-time job.”

  More like an impossible fucking job, you sick bastard!

  But as much as I want to say that, I don’t. I know I’m stretching myself thin as it is just by telling him he’s wrong. The only time he ever showed this much restraint in the past was when he was shooting up. Which doesn’t bode well for me if that’s the case, which I would be willing to bet money is exactly what he’s doing every time he leaves this room.

  Once his high wears off, he’s at his worst. He turns into the epitome of ‘eye of the hurricane.’ But I take this opportunity, while he’s high, to try and reach some fucking morsel of conscience, of humanity, that he may have buried deep in there somewhere.

  “You have the opportunity for an entirely new life, Rob. You’re out of prison. You only served forty percent of your sentence, and you could start over anywhere. With anyone else. But please, just let me go. Go enjoy your new freedom.”

  “I plan to enjoy my freedom with you.”

  “But I don’t want that. If you love me like you say you do, shouldn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t you care about what I want?”

  “I can make you happy again, Maxine.”

  “No, you can’t. I told you, I’m a different person now. And let’s be honest, Rob, you never actually made me happy.”

  “This is because of him isn’t it?”

  “No, I was a different person long before Abel came along.”

  “Don’t you dare say his fucking name!”

  “You got your revenge, Rob. Bree and I got our punishments. You can let us go. You can leave here now and no one even has to know. We won’t say anything.”

  “That’s not going to happen and you know it so I suggest you fucking drop it. There is only one option here, Maxine. You leave with me and we live out our lives together. Far away from here.”

  “But how long would my life with you be? How long until you run me over again? How long until you break my ribs again? How long until you actually kill me?”

  I barely get the words out before a punch to the face that I never saw coming, but should have anticipated, sends me straight back into the darkness.

  Chapter Seven

  ABEL

  Bree has been missing for nine days and Max has been missing for five. With the help of all of our friends, we’ve managed to put flyers up in every city within five hours of Deacon Hill. We’re waiting on pins and needles for them to generate any type of information. It’s like Rob took the girls and just vanished. No one, anywhere, knows anything.

  How is that even possible?

  Everyone has stayed in our den since the abductions, and it’s crazy how many people can be in one house and yet it still feels like a fucking mausoleum.

  Not two weeks ago we were laughing, celebrating, and eating dinner together, filling this house with so much love and happiness. We were creating memories here, starting a future together as one giant, crazy, family. But now... The absence of Bree and Max is the loudest thing in the house. A hollow echo of loss and suffering.

  You can hear their absence in Ollie’s whimpers as he searches for Max every day. You can hear it in the sobs Kat pours out of her body at night, in the bathroom, when she thinks we are all asleep and can’t hear her. You can hear it in vibrations through the house when a phone rings and we all scramble towards it, hoping for an update. You can hear in Dex’s room when he plays the music that reminds him of Bree, silently shutting himself off from the rest of us. You can hear it in the sniffles of Karen and Sonya when they try and be strong because it’s what Max would say to all of us if the situation were reversed. And you can hear it like a bomb going off in Brody’s head while he tries so hard to pull us all together and be a rock during this hard time. You can hear it in the hum of Ryan’s bike taking off early in the morning, and coming in so late at night as he scrambles to maintain the shop without a single complaint. A shop that Dex and I are both neglecting because we’re falling apart from the inside out.

  Even Henry has been calling me every day, asking if there’s anything he can do to help or to see if there are any new updates. Henry owns ‘R&R Bar,’ the place all of us go to hang out and blow off some steam. He’s been a father figure to Max and all of her friends since the day he met them. Henry has happily supported their every endeavor, given them a safe place to go to in order to let go and be themselves, and done anything he could to contribute to their dreams.

  When he found out about Max and Bree, he shut the bar down and met us all at the house. He was so beside himself with grief that he just wanted to exist with us in our heartbreak unsure of how else to process the news. He’s loved Max as if she was his own daughter from the jump. He’s been a sounding board and caretaker in some of her darkest moments, new letting her, or her friends, go a day without knowing they were loved.

  He didn’t just fill a place in their hearts, they filled one in his too. Without them at R&R, he said the bar has felt cold and lonely, missing a vital piece in what makes it so appealing. Max provided so much warmth to so many, even without her realizing it.

  How do you go on living a life when the two most influential people have been stolen from it? How do you get out of bed each day when your reason for breathing is no longer lying next to you? How do you comfort your best friend when the woman he cares so deeply for is missing? How am I expected to eat, drink, or sleep when I have no idea if they’re being given the same things?

  Someone, please… Tell me. What the fuck do I do?

  Life has been too cruel to those beautiful women. Two innocent people who would never hurt a soul. All they’ve ever wanted is to be loved and find happiness after life dealt them a shit hand. How is any of this fair? It’s not. Pla
in and simple.

  Surviving what they did up until this point was way more than they should have ever had to face. Life hasn’t been kind to them and I have no idea how to fix it. I have no idea how to pull myself together and make this right. With each passing day, I’m losing the battle to hold onto hope. I’m scared to death I will never see them again, hear their laughs, and watch Max’s belly swell as she brings life to the innocent children we created together.

  I’m breaking.

  A little more each day.

  I’m holding on to Max’s shirt that no longer smells like her, curled up on her side of the bed. It’s the only place in the house where I feel like I can breathe. I find myself staring at our photo frame as John Mayer’s ‘Gravity’ plays out in the background. Ollie is laying with me, watching me like I’m the only one who can bring him back his favorite human. His begging, pleading eyes do nothing but add to the ache in my chest. The pain of what I want and what I can’t have is tearing through me. Nothing in my life has ever been able to render me worthless, but their loss… It’s done the trick.

  I’m going crazy, needing something to do, something to fucking help bring my girls home. My concentration is shot. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I’m on autopilot just begging for anything to help pull me the hell out of it.

  I tried going to the shop yesterday to do something productive, trying to man the fuck up ya know? But I ended up causing $1,200 in damages to a bike that I’ll end up having to cover the cost of when I can actually do my fucking job. I’m going crazy.

  I hear the front door open and slam closed, followed by someone stomping up the stairs.

  “Abel! Dex! Get the fuck up, come on guys, let's go!” I hear Shane screaming.

  I fly out of the bed and rush to the top of the staircase at the same time as Dex. Shane is standing at the top of the stairs with a smile on his face, bouncing from foot to foot.

 

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