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Mike sighed, glancing over at the clock hanging on the wall, hoping she would have enough time to finish her paper before David made it home for the night. She had just over an hour before his shift at work and he would walk through the front door and starting demanding her time and attention. Without pausing, she continued typing as fast as her fingers would allow, eyes widening when she heard the front door open then slam shut. He was home early, and no doubt in a horrible mood. With her heart thundering painfully in her throat and a growing sense of dread, she hurriedly shut down the computer, shoving the reference papers she had collected into her book bag; all the while listening with practiced ears as he shuffled through the living room, going about his nightly routine. On silent feet, Mike left the small room they had made into an office when they moved into the apartment. She carefully set her book bag down on the floor in the hallway before entering the kitchen. An hour earlier she had set out everything she would need to make dinner, and she sighed in relief as she twisted one of the knobs for one of the stove burners. Minutes later the water began to simmer and she reached for the pasta, interrupting her task of cutting mushrooms and green peppers for the sauce. She smiled when she finally noticed David standing in the doorway to the kitchen, shoulder resting against the door frame, gazing at her with interest.
“You’re home early.” she commented cheerfully, hoping he wouldn’t detect the nervous undertones in her voice.
“Is that a problem?” he lifted an eyebrow, reaching for one of the green pepper slices and popping it into his mouth.
“No. I was just surprised, that’s all. If I had known you were going to be home early, dinner would have been ready by now.” she shrugged a shoulder, forcing a calm she didn’t feel.
“Michaela, you should know by now, I don’t answer to you.” David sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Either way, we have a guest tonight, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. Clear?”
She nodded silently, continuing to work on fixing dinner, returning her attention to the mushrooms and green peppers she needed to slice. He reached past her, taking another slice of green pepper, shoving it into his mouth as his other hand gripped her hip possessively, giving her a squeeze. She jumped slightly, her hand slipping and inadvertently cutting her own finger. She gasped loudly, jerking her hand away, the knife in question clattering to the counter top. David made a soft sound, taking her injured hand in his own.
“You should really be more careful, Michaela.” he admonished with a sigh. “People will think I abuse you, or something.”
He gazed down at the cut on her finger, reaching behind her for something she couldn’t readily see. Her eyes gazed up at him, and he smirked slightly when he saw the fear trickling through their depths. Holding her gaze, her brought his hand over to her injured finger, pouring the white, grainy substance of salt of the cut. She took a sharp breath, jerking her hand away from him, quickly rinsing off her hand, the salt stinging more than anything she had ever experienced.
“A friend of mine stopped by work today and told me something.” he started conversationally, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her wrap a paper towel around her finger. Mike remained silent, knowing if she spoke now, she would more than likely get a face full of his hand.
“He told me he saw you at the shopping mall the other day with some guy who had black hair and was about your height. Said you were laughing and talking like the two of you had shared some intimate moments together. Said he had his arm around you and you had your arm around him. Is this true?” David lifted an eyebrow, eyes turning icy.
“My older brother’s best friend was in town. He wanted to see me. That’s all it was.” Mike answered softly, honestly.
“That’s fine. Just remember one thing. No one else wants you. No one else will ever want you. You, my girl, are an ugly woman. I’m surprised that I put up with you at all myself.” David muttered, sauntering from the room.
Everything after that moment was a blur. A beating had followed later that evening because David had been under the impression she was flirting with his friend; and as always, she needed to be punished. He words to her that night had stayed with her, stubbornly refusing to be deleted from the hard drive of her brain. And though he wasn’t there, the words still terrified her all the same. The situation still terrified her. She suppressed a violent shiver, eyes turning back to her reflection in the mirror. Haunted and pained eyes gazed back at her, sending silent warnings, telling her that JC was just a man and all men were the same. They would use and abuse you until they became bored enough to toss you away. She covered her face with a hand, a strangled sob escaping her. She couldn’t fight her memories and come out the victor. They would more than likely stay with her for the rest of her life, in the shadows of her memory, waiting for the proper time to rear their ugly heads.
She dropped her hand, resolutely turning back to the mirror, gazing for a long moment at her reflection. Her bright green eyes were now dull with fatigue and life, her full lips twisting in a sardonic smile, a scar now light with age gracing her forehead just above her right eyebrow. She was far from beautiful. David was right. JC may say he wanted to be with her, but men always lied until they got what they wanted. What about Chris? He’s never lied to you. Neither have Lance, Joe or Justin. And neither has JC. They all care about you. She shook her head, sighing heavily.
“They shouldn’t.” she murmured to her reflection, her heart twisting slowly in her chest. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t need it. It’s way too complicated. Too dangerous. The risks are too great.”
Mike lay in bed, the room dark save for the street light outside which cast the room into a soft orange glow. It had been nearly three hours since David’s last verbal and physical assault on her, leaving her with bruises on her back and a cut lip. She sniffled softly, mentally berating herself for the small luxury of crying. The tears had long since dried on her cheeks, her lower lip painful to the touch, her back still throbbing occasionally with a wrong movement. She stiffened slightly when the bedroom door opened softly, the sweet scent of roses reaching her. The bed dipped behind her with the weight of his body.
“I’m so sorry, Michaela.” he whispered, caressing her cheek with the petals of the rose he held in his hand. “I never meant to hurt you.”
She remained silent, fearful of speaking. Fearful of setting him off once again. He sighed, trailing the rose down her bared arm, his free hand resting on her hip gently. She closed her eyes tightly, determined not to move a muscle.
“You just make me so angry sometimes.” he continued, keeping his voice low and soothing. She didn’t know which end of the relationship more. The abuse, or the promises that came each time he wanted to make up and ask for forgiveness. She hated herself for allowing him to do this to her.
“It will never happen again. I swear. Michaela?”
“Michaela?” JC’s voice called softly through the closed bathroom door, startling her enough to take a stumbling step backwards, inadvertently knocking over a glass container of some sort, resting on the sink counter. It hit the floor and exploded into thousands of tiny pieces. The sound itself terrified her even more.
“Michaela? Are you all right?” an urgent note entered his voice. Instant fear griped her heart, her mind unable to discern what was memory and what was reality. She glanced around a little wildly, suddenly feeling like a caged animal looking for a way out, needing a way to escape. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave her alone. To tell him she didn’t want to speak with him. To tell him that she loved him. But no words emerged past the lump forming in her chest. Instead, she took another step backward, barely feeling the shards of glass that cut her feet.
“Micahela, I’m coming in.” JC warned, raising his voice loud enough so she could hear him. Without thinking, she lunged for the door, clicking the lock into place. With a muted sound of agony, she slumped to the floor, back pressed against the door. Tears shimmered in her eyes, memories running rampant in her mind.
JC turned the handle of the bathroom door, sighing heavily when his fear of the door being locked was confirmed. He rested his forehead against the cool wood, reviewing the past twenty minutes in his mind, hoping to figure out what had caused her to freak out the way she had. Everything had been all right until she had woken up in his arms. He sat in front of the door, leaning back against it with a sigh.
“You’re beginning to scare me, you know that, right?” he inquired, hoping she could hear him. Hoping he would answer him. The worst feeling in the world was helplessness, which is how he felt. Unable to reach her if she needed his help. Unable to ease her fears, to tell her everything would be all right, that she was safe with him.
“What happened, Mike? Talk to me.” his voice trailed off into a sigh, his head thumping softly back against the door. She didn’t answer in return. His heart ached for her, wondering if she’d ever get past all the horrors David had dealt to her. Rage thrummed under his skin at the thought of what the man did to her. If a person could even call him a man. After five more minutes of silence, he climbed to his feet and wandered into the bedroom to grab the portable phone. He dialed Chris’s number by memory and waited for someone to answer the phone.
“Hello?” a sleepy voice inquired thickly.
“Chris, it’s JC.” he sighed into the phone, glancing over at the closed and locked bathroom door.
“What’s going on? Why are you calling me at….. seven forty-three in the morning when we don’t have to be anywhere for another five hours?”
“Listen, I have a problem.”
“And you just had to share it with me? Come on, Jace. Call Lance. He’s usually up at this hour.”
“I can’t call Lance. He wouldn’t know how to help.”
“Oh, for cryin’ out loud. What is it?”
“Mike stopped by last night. We talked and she fell asleep. She totally flipped when she woke up.”
“Why?” Chris’s voice became suddenly clear and slightly suspicious.
“Because she woke up in my arms. Look, Chris, I swear nothing happened. We just talked and she fell asleep curled up against me. She’s locked herself in the bathroom and she won’t talk to me.”
“Damn it.”
“I need your help here, Chris.”
“I know. I’m on my way.”
JC sighed, hanging up the phone. He glanced back over to the closed bedroom door, wondering what was going through her mind, wishing more than anything he could help her. Torn on what to do, he stood in the hallway, half of him wanting to break down the door to get to her, the other part of him rationally wanting to wait for Chris to arrive. JC sighed heavily, absentmindedly rubbing the nape of his neck and the top of his shoulder with a hand as he once again took a seat in front of the bathroom door. He dropped his hand into his lap, silently grappling with the situation in his mind and how to help if he could, at least until Chris arrived. His heart ached for her, knowing without thinking too long about it, she thought she was alone in this battle. He wanted nothing more than to comfort and reassure her. Baby step forward and two giant steps backward. He grimaced at the thought, his heart slowly sinking as her silence lengthened.
“Why won’t you talk to me, Michaela?” he inquired softly through the wood of the door.
“I can’t.” her voice trembled, contesting to the fear and uncertainty she felt to the core.
“I only want to help you.” JC tried again, unable to let himself give up on reaching her.
“No one can help me, now. I’m beyond help.” her voice became rueful and bitter.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true.” the words burst from his lips without prior thought and he almost wanted to call them back, knowing she wouldn’t or couldn’t believe the words no matter how often he muttered them.
“Cut your losses, Josh. I told you, warned you I was messed up. Not worth the effort. Just cut your losses and leave me alone. It’s safer for both of us this way.” she pleaded, her voice husky with suppressed emotion.
“I wish it were that easy.” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly before resting his forehead against the cool wood. “You can keep pushing me away, but I’ll always come back.”
“Don’t do this to me. Please, Josh, don’t do this to me.” her voice broke.
“Don’t do what, Michaela?” he countered softly.
“Care about me. I don’t deserve it. It makes things too difficult.” her voice trailed off. JC sighed, his heart contracting painfully in his chest upon trying to wrap his mind around the idea of life without her. If he could have, he would gladly repay David for all the cruelty he delivered to Michaela with his brainwashing comments and his fists. Most of all, he hated feeling so helpless, like he was desperately trying to swim upstream with his hands tied behind his back. He lifted his hand, pressing his fingertips against the closed door.
“Tell me, Michaela, tell me what to do because I just don’t have it in me to walk away from you.” he practically begged, closing his eyes against the mind altering pain suffusing his heart.
“Just leave me alone.” her voice came to him on a whispered prayer and he could hear the checked tears in her voice.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” JC murmured, his heart breaking slowly. The reality of Michaela walking away from him, taking herself from his life was almost mind numbing. The staggering thought blind-sided him. When did I fall so hard? How can I let her go? The silent questions swirled in his mind, confusing and angering him. He would do anything to help her but walk away. He didn’t have the heart to leave her when she needed people the most. JC glanced up when the doorbell rang, and sighed, climbing to his feet with a small struggle. He walked briskly over to the front door, pulling it open to let Chris enter.
“Now, exactly, what happened?” Chris demanded, stepping into the room before turning a hard gaze to his younger friend. JC sighed tiredly, raking a hand through his hair.
“She came over last night and we just started talking, then she fell asleep. When she woke up this morning, she freaked out and locked herself in the bathroom.” JC mumbled, shaking his head slowly.
“Somehow, I don’t believe that’s the whole story.” Chris lifted an expectant eyebrow, arms folding across his chest.
“I told her I fell in love with her.” JC shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Which would explain why she’s scared.” Chris nodded consideringly.
Mike closed her eyes on a muted sigh upon hearing JC move from the bathroom door, his footsteps fading into another part of the apartment. She scrambled to find the words that would finally push him far enough away for her safety to return. A small part of her was impressed and slightly amazed at his unwillingness to let her go and his stubbornness about helping her; while the majority of her was equally terrified and irritated with his lack of understanding. He refused to believe anything she said when it came to herself. He refused to let her cope with her emotional fears alone, when all she wanted was to be left alone, become a faceless person in the crowd of many. It was safer for her if she didn’t have a face, if she didn’t have a personality. It would be easier if he would let her disappear to lick her wounds in the privacy of her own hell, created or not.
In the shrouded darkness of the night, with the moon’s rays the only light for miles, it was easy to forget everything. To dismiss everything as unreal. In the darkness of the night, she thought she could take this next step. Had thought she had love enough in her heart to allow him the closeness they both craved. The night could play tricks on the mind, could hamper the decision making process, could make the demons recede to the back of her mind, temporarily forgetting them until the first harsh rays of sunlight. Which was what happened.
In the morning’s harsh light, she had seen the errors of her ways and had brought with it doubts and uncertainties. She brushed the backs of her knuckles against her cheek, wiping away the tears. She was a fool to believe she could do this.
“Chichi? You in there?” Chris’s familiar voice filtered through the door, startling her briefly.
“Yeah.” she mumbled through a sigh, resting her head back against the door.
“You want to tell me why you locked yourself in the bathroom?” Chris continued. She could tell he was forcing a cheerfulness he didn’t feel.
“Not really.” she shook her head.
“Come on, Chichi. This is me.” Chris prodded, worry finally entering his voice. “Will you at least come out here so we can talk?”
“I can’t, Chris.” Mike shook her head, closing her eyes tightly. She couldn’t face Chris just yet, let alone JC. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate the sadness in his eyes she knew would be there.
“All right, if you don’t want to come out, can I come in?” Chris inquired softly.
She remained silent for a moment, debating the outcome. Slowly, her hand inched up the door and slid the lock back before she scooted away from the door all together. Seconds later, the door opened and Chris stepped inside. He gently closed the door behind him, eyes widening slightly when he noticed the glass on the floor with small droplets of blood.
“Did you hurt yourself, Chichi?” he inquired immediately, taking a seat next to her.
“Probably stepped on some glass.” Mike shrugged her shoulders, unable to meet his gaze.
“Chichi,” Chris sighed, closing his eyes. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
Her eyes flew open when she was suddenly scooped from the floor and brought out of the bathroom.
“No, Moo, I can’t face him.” distress filled her voice, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance.
“Don’t worry Chichi, he’s not here.” Chris reassured her as he gently set her down on the couch before disappearing for a moment to gather the supplies he would need to bandage her feet if the cuts were worse than he imagined.
“Where is he?” Mike inquired suspiciously, lifting an eyebrow.
“My best guess? At the beach, pausing for some introspection.” Chris shrugged, kneeling in front of her. Minutes later, the small cuts on her feet were cleaned and bandaged and Chris sighed, dropping down onto the couch beside her.
“You want to tell me what happened?” he glanced over at her, worry still in the depths of his eyes.
“It’s too confusing, Moo.” she shook her head, covering her face with a hand.
“So? Just start talking, even if it’s total gibberish. Eventually, the whole story will make sense of itself.” Chris gave her a small, reassuring smile. She curled up on her side, resting her head in his lap as she sought the words.
“Yesterday,” Had it only been yesterday? It seems like it happened years ago. Mike sighed, closing her eyes. “This guy came into the book shop. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place where I had seen him before. He wanted a book that would impress this girl he likes and was very particular in what the book looked like. He ended up buying my favorite copy of ‘Othello’. Later that night when I got back to your place, I saw that very same book resting on my pillow and knew it had been Josh who came to the store. I came here wanting to know why he was doing this to me. He told me it was because he fell in love with me. He took me in out of the rain, gave me some dry clothes, then held me through the night. I told him I loved him. But, this morning, I was so terrified of things turning bad, I bolted without really thinking about them. I didn’t want him to turn into another David. I didn’t want to see the regret in his eyes once he found out how truly screwed up I am. I couldn’t take it, Moo. Because it’s true. I’ve loved him since that first afternoon he taught me to defend myself with my fists.” tears filled her eyes once again, her voice trembling with the effort not to shed them.
“Chichi,” Chris murmured, stroking her hair soothingly. “Jace is a decent guy, one who would never hurt you. Physically anyway. And certainly not intentionally. He cares about you a great deal. I know just by looking at him and the way he looks at you. But, sweetie, you have to take it slow. He knows you’re scared, we all know you’re scared and all we want to do is help you through this.”
“I know.” Mike whispered painfully.
“Will you let us help you?” they both glanced up, startled, when JC’s voice filled the air. He stood in the doorway, nervous energy nearly radiating from him. Mike struggled to sit up, opening her mouth to say something as he stepped into the room. Chris watched warily, hoping JC’s return to the apartment wouldn’t send her bolting again. JC knelt in front of her, keeping his distance yet silently telling her with his presence he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m sorry, Josh.” she whispered hoarsely.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.” JC shook his head. She lifted her hand, fingertips resting softly on his cheek.
“I don’t want to be scared of you, I just can’t help it.” she murmured, eyes filling with burning tears once again.
“I know, Michaela.” JC nodded, taking a deep breath. “But, I’ll be here for however long it takes. I’m not going to just walk away from you.”
“You probably should.” Mike countered with a shake of her head.
“It’ll never happen.” JC countered, reaching a hand up to anchor her hand against his cheek before pressing a soft kiss to her palm. Her lower lip trembled slightly, her vision blurring completely as she shifted, moving infinitely closer to JC, her arms snaking around his neck. Seconds later, his arms wrapped tightly about her, bringing her closer, cradling her against his chest.
“We’ll get through this.” JC reassured her softly, wary eyes turning to Chris, who had a glimmer of a satisfied smile on his face.
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