On the large screen television, I watch as the action unfolds just as it would in my worst nightmare. I almost cannot watch; I almost have to turn my head but my curiosity keeps me from doing that, so I watch the train wreck as it happens in front of my eyes. Heads turn all around, looking for the dedicated attorney who hasn't bothered to show up for her only client's trial.
Everyone rises as the judge takes her seat behind the bench. She asks for me, irritation in her voice. Todd's eyes are filled with worry as he leans closer to Derek and whispers something in his ear.
"Judge," Todd stands, suddenly rising to his full height, "something's happened to her."
"And who are you?" she asks, unaware of his sordid past.
"Um, I'm a friend and I know she wouldn't just not show up."
"I'm going to call a fifteen minute recess to give council a chance to arrive. And if she is not here at the end of that time, I will find her in contempt." She lifts her gavel and pounds it against the heavy wood surface.
She disappears into her chambers and the courtroom erupts into loud whispers. Derek is fighting hard to control his emotions, but I see the tears shining in his eyes. Behind Todd, I watch as Viki walks up behind him and taps him on his shoulder. He turns to her, and whispers something into her ear.
My mind is racing with so many thoughts I can't even begin to focus. My heart goes out to Derek as he stares at the entire scene in disbelief. Quite possibly, I am watching the entire destruction of his future.
There is a commotion on the screen as Todd pushes past the crowd surrounding Jared and grabs him by the collar. I can read his lips as he asks, "What the fuck did you do to her?"
I cannot see Jared's response, but I can see the obvious smirk on his face. Todd is barely hanging on, but it's Viki's touch that calms him enough to think about what he's about to do. He lets go of Jared's lapel, points his finger, says something like, "you better pray nothin' happens to her you," and pushes his way out of the courtroom.
*****
I am beginning to feel the weak; my sugar is thrown completely off. This is the way I felt all the time before a diagnosis was made, like I could fall out at any moment and never recover. I close my eyes, take some deep breaths and try to relax. I know it's not possible, but if I can take my mind off things for only a few minutes, that would help. Otherwise, I will constantly think of what my body is not getting and the permanent damage I am undoubtedly causing.
When I close my eyes, all I see is the confusion written all over Derek's face; the person he trusted most let him down on the biggest day of his life. Guilt washes over me like a reverse baptism. I think of what he is doing now, probably lying on his back in his cell, staring at the ceiling, chastising himself for trusting me in the first place.
There are things going on within me that I don't quite understand. Like this voice, I'm not quite sure if it's real or some false something that my mind has conjured up to prevent sheer hysteria, but this voice tells me that everything is going to be all right. And for some reason, I trust it; I believe it even though I don't know its source.
This damned television has been on constantly; I can't focus on anything other than that damn buzzing. It's like the mosquito you can't quite catch, yet you know it's there, circling around like a miniature vulture. But this is worse because I am trapped those pictures flashing across the screen represent the freedom that eludes me right now. It's temporary; I have to remember this is all temporary.
Rachel's voice snaps me out of this place I have hidden. I turn to face the screen, wishing like hell we had telepathy and I could send her clues, but I don't have any idea where I am, though I do not believe I am that far. Todd pushes his way through the front door, cornering her against the sofa. He isn't threatening her, not from his body language, no, that tells me he is afraid.
The volume is on full blast; the hurt in his voice alone is enough to break my already severely damaged heart. "Did she come home last night?" he asks.
"I thought she was with you."
"Did she even call?"
Rachel shakes her head, clearly oblivious to the fact that I am missing. Everyone thought I was okay; meanwhile, I'm trapped in this fucking place, a goddamn firefly in a cracked jar, looking for that one way out. But like the firefly, freedom eludes me.
"She didn't show up in court today," he says, "so if you know anything, you'd better fuckin' tell me!" Now, he is angry, that anger is ready to bubble over the top.
"Todd, I don't know anything."
He believes her at last, backs away from her until he makes contact with the wall. He runs his fingers through his hair, thinking, going over every possibility that the police would miss. That's the way he thinks, looking beyond the obvious. "Okay, she ever talk about anybody tryin' t' hurt her?"
"Nobody other than you," she smartly retorts.
The hurt that appears across his face is too much for me to take; I have to turn my head. He has nothing to say in response to her; the air is heavy like a leaded balloon just landed in the middle of something. When I turn back, he is walking past her, toward the back of the apartment; I suspect he's going to my room.
The camera switches and it occurs to me that Rachel was a huge part of Jared's master plan. He is probably the one who encouraged her to move in with me, just so he could gain access to my apartment. All part of something he's been planning and re-planning for months now.
Todd storms through the door, banging the wood against the wall with such force, it probably made a hole. First, he runs his fingers over the silk of my bed lines, breathing deeply as he does so. He touches the pillow I have laid my head a hundred lonely nights without him. But then, he gets down to business and goes through my drawers with such methodical precision, one would think he was a police officer.
"Damn it!" he mutters in frustration.
My jewelry box has always been one of my most precious possessions. Imagine cherry wood carved box with a finish so glossy, you could see your reflection as clearly as a mirror. The lid is of frosted glass, pieced together in a kind of mosaic, composed of broken pieces from my mother's wedding crystal. My brother made it for me as a gift, something they said, even at ten years old, I would appreciate because I was always so far advanced.
Todd hasn't seen it until its glimmer catches his eye, just as he's about to leave the room. He turns and opens it with a gentleness I've rarely seen him possess. I keep my most sacred, private materials in there, safely beneath the glass that means the world to me. I think everything Todd has given me that fit perfectly inside the box. On top is my wedding band; he spots it right away slipping it on his pinky finger. He rifles through the rest of the container, touching everything quickly as if something might burn him. It's the memories that hurt; they're the things that burn.
I cannot take anymore of this; Jared knows how much this tortures me. He knows that I am dying at the sight of the man I love, struggling to keep it together and hanging on by a very thin, frayed thread. What he doesn't know is every second I'm locked in here, I grow more determined to get out and make him pay for what he's doing to me. I may not have had the strength when I was younger, but I have changed more than he could ever imagine.
"Todd, she had a fight with Jared," Rachel says.
"What?"
"Jared, my…the guy I was seeing. They knew each other a long time ago and-"
"And what?" he asks anxiously.
"And some stuff went down and he vowed revenge on her." Almost as an afterthought, like she was ashamed of what happened to her she adds, "And he beat me."
When the words register in Todd's head, he does a double take, almost as if he doesn't believe her. The anger, it starts from the pit of his stomach and rises to the back of his throat; that is where it is released in lashes of words he doesn't necessarily mean and words he sometimes means too much. "WHY THE HELL ARE YOU JUST NOW TELLING ME?!" he yells.
"Because I didn't think it was relevant."
No longer able to listen to her words, he throws up his hand in frustration and walks too calmly out of the room. Rachel follows after him immediately; feeling guilty I suppose. She tries to block his way, but he gently pushes her out of his path and in a couple quick strides, he's at the door.
"Todd wait, you can't go off half cocked like this."
"Somebody's gotta look for her."
"Let the police handle this."
"Those clowns? We wait for them while he does whatever to her?" He shakes his head, "I'm not gonna wait, I'm gonna find her."
She knows enough to know not to fight him when he's like this. We've spoken of his rage and how far he can be pushed without completely snapping. She lifts her arms in defeat and backs away from him.
I quietly cry as I watch Todd leave my apartment. I'm hopeful, yet hopeless at the same time and I have no idea why. He has always taken care of my physically, it's my heart he didn't protect.
The television monitor turns itself off and once again it is quiet. This room has grown darker once again; the only source of light is from some street lamp across the street. It forms a perfect rectangle as shines through the slat of a window. My stomach growls loudly, telling me it's time for her to be served. I cannot bring myself to eat anything.
A key is inserted in the door and I think about getting up and hiding in the bathroom. The thought, however, is fleeting because I know there will be consequences each and every time I decide I will not cooperate. This is all about conservation; conserving my life, my energy and most importantly, conserving my mind.
My back is to the door, so I can't see him standing in the doorway, but I certainly feel his eyes burning a hole into me. His cologne travels through the air, lingering over my nostrils. I refuse to turn toward him and give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain on my face.
"Tea, Tea are you sleeping?" Jared sings with a smile in his voice. His footsteps get louder as he nears me, stopping near my head. Still, I do not turn around, not until his foot makes contact with the top of my head as he kicks what he thinks is my slumbering body. I almost want to cry out, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing the grimace on my face; I don't move a muscle. "Tea," he says louder, "get up!"
I wonder how Todd dealt with the years of abuse he endured. I know the times he and I discussed it, he said he didn't feel anything because he would leave his body. He was a child Shaman, hovering above his body as it was beaten until his father had nothing left to give him.
His foot connects with my body once again, this time to my lower back but I feel nothing. What hurts me though is the sound of his expensive leather shoes making contact with the skin that covers my spine. I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, keeping the tears from escaping through the cracks.
This is how I drift further and further away until eventually, I fall asleep entirely. He continues to hit me and kick me until his body grows tired and weary. He hits me, drawing blood and leaving other "calling cards" in the form of bumps and bruises that will heal in time. More than that, he has left his emotional mark which will plague me for the rest of my life.
"Sometimes it seems like we're all in some kind of prison and the crime is how much we hate ourselves." -- Angela Chase "My So-Called Life"
