The Abuse of Ashley Collins

by Athan, Jon

  Tyler stared at his girlfriend, dumbfounded. They had been dating for an entire year, but he was still learning about her. She wasn't as simple as her father believed. Her mind was deep, her ambition was raw, and her actions were calculated. Of course, she was a teenager, so she occasionally acted on her emotions – like the slap across her father's face – but most of her actions were meticulously planned.

  Tyler said, “Jeez, I didn't know you had such a strong opinion on movies. Usually, people just say it's good or it's crap. Sounds like you really know your movies, though.”

  “I'm not some pretentious douche with a blog who thinks he knows it all. I like movies. I love movies. If I could do anything without worrying about money or... or family, I'd try to make movies. They'd probably suck, but, I don't know, it just looks like fun. It's just a dream, though. Just a stupid dream...”

  “Well, dreams can come true.”

  “So can nightmares.”

  “Sorry to interrupt. Are you ready to order?” the brunette waitress asked, holding a pen and pad in her hands.

  Ashley said, “Oh, I didn't get a chance to look at the menu. Do you have like a... a chicken sandwich with fries?”

  “Yes, ma'am. And, what will you be having, sir?”

  “You can get me the same. And a Coke.”

  “A Coke for me, too,” Ashley said as she leaned on the window. “Thank you.”

  As she departed, the waitress said, “Your order will be ready in a few minutes. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Tyler knocked on the table and snatched Ashley's attention. He said, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “What?”

  “Last night and this morning. I saw what you did to your dad, babe. You hit him. You fucking hit him. It's cool to push him around and poke his buttons or whatever, that's normal, but... wasn't that going a little too far?”

  “You're taking his side without knowing the entire story.”

  “I'm not. I'm just, you know, curious.”

  “Well, a curious person shouldn't jump to conclusions. You need the whole story, not just one action from one moment.”

  Tyler nodded and said, “Okay, I get it. So, talk to me. Tell me your side of the story. What's going on with you and your family.”

  Ashley twirled her hair as she continued to stare out the window. She counted the passing cars as she pondered her response. The diner wasn't a confessional after all. Then again, she wasn't very fond of confessing in church, either. A booth at a diner or a confessional at church, she thought, what difference does it make?

  She leaned forward on the table and said, “Look, my family situation isn't very complicated. It's... It's actually very simple. I hate my dad. I think he's a pretentious, know-it-all asshole. He's the type of guy to be holier-than-thou in public, then bitch and moan at home. It gets on my nerves knowing some people actually buy his act. You know it from experience, too. He's a hard-ass.”

  Tyler said, “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

  “My mom isn't much better. She's... she's just distant, you know? I don't feel like she loves me, so why should I love her? She's like my dad, pretending to be perfect, but she's just as bad. Whenever there's a problem at home, she always goes against me. I...”

  Ashley paused and bit her tongue as she stared down at her lap. She clenched her jaw and loudly swallowed, clearly rattled. Tyler could sense her shift in demeanor. He gave her time, though. He wasn't going to push forward unless he was invited.

  Ashley sighed, then she said, “I'd tell you more, but... this isn't the place. Really, don't ask. Maybe I'll be ready in a few years, but don't ask me now.”

  “Okay, okay. It's cool.”

  Ashley glanced at a table to her left. A raven-haired child shoved french fries into his mouth while reading a comic on his cell phone. The sheer innocence of the boy warmed her heart. For some reason, people appeared most benign when they were eating. In her eyes, a child peacefully eating was one of the most innocent images.

  As she stared at the boy, Ashley said, “My brother is alright, though. As far as I can tell, he's just a regular kid. He plays video games, he runs around with his friends...” Her cheeks inflated as she grinned from ear-to-ear. She giggled, then she said, “He's exploring his 'sexuality,' too. Have I told you that? Yeah, I don't know how many times I've seen him staring at girls' boobs and asses. Little perv...”

  Tyler chuckled, then he said, “Sounds like a regular kid to me.”

  “Yeah, but... he's young. You never know, he might turn out to be an asshole like the rest of us.”

  Like the rest of us – the words poked at Tyler's mind. He loved his girlfriend, but he was worried about her perpetually cynical attitude. She had developed a shell around herself, a heartless exterior to protect her from disappointment and regret. He wanted to penetrate that shell, though. In a sense, he wanted to be her knight in shining armor. He wasn't dressed like a cliché hero, but his heart was sincere.

  Tyler knocked on the table – again, snatching Ashley's attention. He smiled and said, “I see where you're coming from with your family issues. I get it, babe, I really do. So, I don't know, have you ever thought about running away? You know, like running away with someone like me?”

  Ashley joked, “I'm not eloping with you, Tyler.”

  “I'm serious. What do you have to lose? Huh? If you're not happy at home, at least give me a chance to make you truly happy. Give us a chance.”

  Ashley stared at her boyfriend with a deadpan expression. She smothered her urge to burst into a guffaw. Tyler was serious about his proposal – and she did not like it.

  Ashley said, “I'm not going to run away with you, Tyler. I love you, but... that's just too much. I hate my parents, but that doesn't mean I can just get up and leave. If I left, my brother would have to suffer with them. He would be talked down to by my dad, my mother wouldn't trust him... He'd end up like me. I hate it at home, but I'm willing to be a... a sponge for all of their negative energy. At least until he's old enough to take care of himself...” She grabbed Tyler's hand and said, “Thank you for trying to take care of me, though. I appreciate it, babe.”

  A half-smile on his face, Tyler nodded and said, “Yeah. Well, the offer's always on the table. I love you.”

  “Here are your meals,” said the waitress as she placed a plate on the table. She placed another plate in front of Tyler, then she sat the drinks on the table. She asked, “Do you need anything else?”

  “We're fine. Thank you,” Ashley responded as she bowed, thankful.

  The waitress departed, ready to help another customer during the dinner rush. It was 2016 and she still depended on tips for her livelihood.

  Ashley took a bite of her burger, Tyler shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. Their talk was serious, ranging from family issues to marriage proposals, but the afternoon was generally tranquil.

  Tyler held his hand over his mouth, which was still full of food, and asked, “Are you still down for the concert this weekend?” He loudly swallowed, then he chuckled. He playfully asked, “Or are you going to be a 'sponge' all week, too?”

  “Fuck off,” Ashley responded, shrugging off the petty joke. She said, “I'm down. I'll be on my 'best' behavior for a few days, my dad will back down, then I'll sneak out at the same time and meet you at the same place. Easy-peasy.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I hope so. I'm telling you, Ash: if your dad even tries to touch me, I'm going to beat his ass. I'm serious this time.”

  The pair shared a laugh – Tyler's threat was absurd and they were well aware of that. They continued to discuss their weekend plans as they ate, embracing life and finding comfort in each other.

  Chapter Five

  There Are Other Options

  Logan strolled into his home, a nervous smile plastered on his face – giddy like a teenager before prom night. He closed the front door behind him, then he leaned on the wall. He stared down at the plastic bag clenched in his right hand. The bag w
as filled with common home security supplies – a door knob with a keypad, padlocks, latch locks, and the gist.

  He couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he glanced around the home.

  From the front door, he could see the living room to his left. To his right, an archway led to the kitchen. There was a small corridor directly ahead, which led to the back of the house. On the left side of the corridor, a staircase led to the second floor; on the right, a door led to the basement. The home was simple but welcoming.

  Logan walked into the corridor, then he hit the wall with his palm. He shouted, “Jane, I'm home! Come to the living room for a second!” No one answered. He hit the wall again and yelled, “Jane! We need to talk!”

  “I'm coming, I'm coming!” Jane responded from the backyard.

  Logan tossed the plastic bag on the glass coffee table at the center of the living room. He sat down on a black three-seat sofa, rubbing his hands together like the conniving villain in a cliché movie. He struggled to contain his excitement. Tread lightly, he thought, I have to convince her without scaring her. He cycled through his options, indistinctly muttering as he stared at his supplies.

  Jane walked into the living room from the corridor. She removed her gardening gloves, then she carefully placed the pair on a console table. She didn't want to spread her mess, mud and grass, across the living room. She was responsible for the housework after all.

  Jane asked, “What is it, Logan? Did something happen?”

  Logan was speechless. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words would not flow through his lips. He was still trying to form a precise explanation – an irresistible persuasion tactic. So, he beckoned to his wife and smiled – come here.

  Jane placed her hands on her hips and asked, “Seriously, what's wrong?”

  She glanced at the bag on the coffee table with a furrowed brow. She looked at her husband for some sort of explanation, but to no avail – the man was still smiling. She sat down on the recliner diagonal from the sofa, then she looked into the bag. The door knob and the locks were odd, but they did not worry her. The handcuffs in the bag, on the other hand, caused her to raise her brow and lean back – baffled.

  Jane anxiously giggled, then she joked, “Are... Are we doing something kinky tonight?”

  “I hope so,” Logan responded with a deviant sparkle in his eyes. He asked, “Is Calvin home?”

  “No. He's still out with his friends.”

  “Good, good.”

  Logan nodded as he glanced at the front door – the coast was clear. He opened and shook the bag, slowly dumping the supplies on the table. The locks and handcuffs loudly clicked with each clash.

  Logan said, “I think I've found a solution to all of our family issues. All of our arguments stem from one person – Ashley. Her behavior is horrible. We both know this, even if we won't talk about it. She's falling. You understand me? She gets worse with each passing day. I figure the only way to stop her is to... to literally stop her.”

  Jane cocked her head back and said, “I don't understand. What are you suggesting, Logan?”

  “I'm saying we should stop her from moving. If you cut her off from the world, she won't have the energy or the audacity to misbehave.”

  “So...”

  “So, I want to lock her up. I want to renovate the basement a bit, put some new locks on the door, then I want to lock her in there. I want to keep her in the basement throughout the summer so we can punish her without consequence. Scold her, hit her–”

  “Hit her?” Jane repeated with wide eyes as she held her hand over her chest.

  Logan said, “Yes, hit her. If we have her locked in the basement, no one will ever know. If we're able to break through to her, then we just saved our daughter and society. And, best of all: while she's locked in the basement, thinking about what she's done and where she's heading, we'll have the opportunity to live like a normal family again. Me, you, and Calvin will be able to finally be like a family, Jane.”

  Jane stared at her husband, incapable of blinking. She was overwhelmed by his suggestion. She imagined all of the terrible news she saw on television – stories of women who were kidnapped and kept in modified basements (dungeons) for years. She took a deep breath and sank deeper into her seat, trying her best to keep her composure.

  Noticing her reluctance, Logan said, “Think about everything she's done, honey. She hit me. Huh? She made it physical. She verbally abused you and she's probably thought about hurting Calvin. She's been doing this for years and she's only been getting worse. I mean, she's only sixteen years old and she's already having sex with some... some worthless bastard! Imagine what she'll be doing when she's seventeen. She's abused her power as a teenager, Jane. She's been misbehaving, hurting her family and breaking the rules, all while hiding behind the law. She thinks she's untouchable, but she's not. We have to teach her a lesson. It's our responsibility as parents.”

  Teary-eyed, Jane stared at her reflection on the coffee table – a warped, disfigured reflection of an aging woman. In reality, she resembled any other middle-aged woman. She was aging naturally, but years of verbal abuse from her daughter made her feel like an elderly woman. She felt frail and useless around Ashley.

  At heart, she also felt sexually repressed around her daughter. She was inferior to her. You can't stop your receding hairline – Ashley's insult from the morning earlier echoed through her mind as she carefully examined her reflection. The insult tormented her, clouding her mind with depressing thoughts. She gently tapped her forehead with her trembling hands as she softly whimpered.

  Her husband's absurd idea for a punishment suddenly sounded rational.

  Logan leaned closer to Jane and grabbed her hand. He said, “I don't want it to be like this. I love you. I love Calvin. Hell, you know I even love Ashley. I just can't ignore this anymore. It's my fault and I have to fix this. Since we haven't punished her, we've basically raised a monster. And, we'll be responsible for whatever she does in the future if we don't tame her.”

  Tame – the word was often used when referring to undomesticated animals. Yet, Logan was using it while speaking about his daughter. It didn't seem to bother him. His choice of words was deliberate. It didn't bother Jane, either. As a matter of fact, the woman nodded as she turned her attention away from her reflection and towards her husband.

  Jane stuttered, “If–If we're going to do... this, we need to do it with a steady hand. We can't just beat her, Logan. She won't learn a thing if we don't talk to her first. We have to let her know why we're doing this. We can't go too far, either. I don't want to end up like all of those people on the news. I–I just... I don't want my mugshot shown across the country.”

  “I know, I know. Even if we leave a mark, I plan on leaving her down there until the next school year starts. By then, she should be fixed and all of her wounds should be healed.”

  The living room became silent. Logan gazed into his wife's eyes, Jane returned the stare. A plan was formed in the room, an agreement was molded between the couple, but uncertainty still lingered at the back of their minds. Absolute certainty was required to move forward. They would not be able to quit once the punishments began.

  Logan asked, “So, you're in? We're really doing this?” His wife remained silent. Logan chuckled, then he said, “I mean, I won't do this without your permission, sweetheart. I need you to be behind me all the way through. If not, I need you to tell me it's a bad idea. Either way, I need you.”

  Jane ran her fingers through her hair and glanced up at the ceiling, using gravity to stop her tears from streaming across her cheeks. She wasn't eager to accept his suggestion, but she would never turn her back on her husband. Through thick and thin, she planned on staying with him until the very end.

  Jane turned towards her husband and nodded. She didn't have to utter another word. The nod was enough.

  Overwhelmed with joy, Logan stood and kissed his wife. He shoved his supplies back into the rustling bag, preparing himself for an af
ternoon of renovations.

  As he walked towards the basement door, he said, “I'm going to change the knob and add some locks out here. Down there, we'll cuff her and tie her to the support beam.”

  Jane turned on her seat and stared at her husband. She asked, “Tie her with what?”

  “I borrowed some heavy-duty rope from Robert. Don't worry. I have everything covered. You just relax, okay? I'll take care of this.”

  Logan jogged down the stairs and descended into the basement to grab his screwdriver and hammer. Jane turned back in her seat and glanced around the living room. The room felt drearier than before, shifting in moods like a teenager in an indie movie. She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, trying to keep her composure.

  It's for the better, she thought, we're doing this for Ashley.

  Chapter Six

  A Den... or a Dungeon?

  Ashley stood near the archway, the front door swinging with the breeze behind her. She furrowed her brow as she stared ahead, befuddled. She didn't expect any home improvement at the house. Yet, she found her father installing a new door knob on the basement door. She glanced at the ceiling and wondered if her father had modified her room as well.

  Logan beckoned to his daughter and said, “Hey, Ash. Wanna give me a hand?” Ashley sighed and glanced around, searching for an escape route – thinking of an excuse. Logan said, “Come on, it won't take long.”

  Ashley shook her head and said, “No. I'm sort of busy.” She nodded at the ceiling and asked, “Are you messing with all of the doors? Did... Did you go into my room and change my door knob?”

  “No. I'm not changing all of the locks or anything like that. I'm just renovating the basement. I could really use some help, too.”

  “I told you: I'm busy. Why don't you ask Calvin instead? I'm sure he'd help you for five bucks. That kid would do anything for five dollars...”