It was like I didn’t belong to myself, like I was Justin’s slave. I had once thought that that’s what I wanted—to be so consumed by love that I now belonged to someone else! Clueless, silly girl!
EEEEEEEK!!!
You just can’t imagine how much I dreaded Justin coming home from work. I’d never know the mood he’d be in. I sighed a huge breath when he came home happy. But most often than not he’d be in a horrible mood with what his boss or a coworker had done to him.
Then even if I greeted him, I’d get a punch to the gut because according to him I hadn’t greeted him with enough enthusiasm. He’d go through the apartment checking to make certain I had put everything in the place he wanted it. Then dinner.
Oh dinner!!!
My stomach knotted itself just thinking about it. He’d tell me the day before what he’d want for dinner. It was never what I wanted but what he demanded I make. Since I’d had servants all of my life I didn’t know how to cook, so I had to get recipes from the internet. After a few beatings I learned my lesson and got the recipes approved by him.
You would think Justin would be okay with what I made him, right? I mean, he’s the one who chose the meal and the recipe, right?
Well, the problem was that even when I followed exact measurements Justin would get it through his head that I had added too much of a certain spice even though I had followed the recipe to a tee and made the exact same meal two weeks before and he had loved it.
You just never knew with Justin. That tight fist could come at you at any time when you least expected it. I wanted to tell my parents so bad about what was happening to me, but they were still so furious with me. And there was the other thing too. The most serious thing.
“If someone or something ever came between us,” Justin would declare,” I love you so much that I’d kill them! Then I’d kill both of us if I had to, Lucette—for us to be forever together!”
With every fiber of my being I knew he meant it.
Terrified. Confused. Petrified. I didn’t know what to do. How to escape him. That is until circumstances led me to the battered women’s shelter that gave me a second chance.
Justin:
Ratchet is in the hospital!
GRRRRRR!!!
I’m so frustrated that I break the little table next to the door in my apartment by flinging it to the wall. What bad luck I’m having in trying to find my wife!
Yes, you heard right—my wife. I don’t care what the stupid judge says. Lucette and I are still married—well, we’re married in the heart where it counts.
Ratchet is in the hospital having surgery. It’s nothing too serious. It’s his prostrate. Still, this sets us back. He tells me not to worry, that he’ll find Lucette.
“Like everything, it’ll just take time, kid,” he states from his hospital bed.
Since he had demanded it, I have already paid him a large portion of his fee. I decide not to ask for it back to go with another detective. Frankly, the guy scares me quite a bit. And there’s also the thing about him knowing about the stabbed fish at those addresses he got for me. Can you imagine what the judge would do to me if he found out it was me who left those grotesquely bleeding fish on his doorstep?
Eeeeek!
Fury burns into me. Grrrrrrr!!!
I’d just have to bide my time.
There’s no two ways about it.
Chapter 15
Lucette/Araceli:
School is a real eye opening experience. This isn’t like the schools I’ve gone to in the wealthy districts. There’s a big difference, especially with technology. The schools I had gone to always had the latest gadgets even though most of the student body already had them at home.
It’s funny what you take for granted when you’re rich as if stuff is yours for the taking. No gratitude. No wondering where it came from. No feelings of why am I getting all this stuff? You just expect the stuff given to you or around you to be the best of the best. Expect it. Don’t work for it. Like I said before—it’s yours for the taking. I guess that’s what people mean about entitlement.
Danila, Anelina, and Emily had all worked the whole past summer to get electronic tablets. Back in my old life, I hadn’t even had to ask for one. It had suddenly appeared in my room when a servant had been sent to the store to get it. I guess it was easy for me to think that I was entitled to it just because.
Makes a person like me think.
Well, anyway, school is continuing to be a very different experience for me, and I don’t just mean the money thing. I’m different. How can I not be with what’s happened to me? I’m looking at school with really different eyes than I did before.
It’s surreal!
It’s like I’m now on a different planet. Yeah, I know it sounds bizarre. Being the snobby jerk that I used to be, I’d step into school as if I owned it. Now I want nothing more than to be ignored and to blend into the walls.
When I see Chiffon and her rabid followers, all so full of themselves, walking the halls like they own them, I want to roll my eyes. The more I see them the happier I am not to be them anymore. I want to ignore them but how can I with the ruckus they create everywhere to announce their presence. UGGG!—what popularity vampires. Been there, done that, I say to myself. If they only knew what I now know—that no matter how high and mighty you might think you are, you’re not. You’re as human and vulnerable as anyone else.
Life turns on a dime for everybody. Everybody! Bad things happen to everyone, and no use thinking that your crap doesn’t stink while everybody else’s does.
You may not believe me when I tell you that I’m enjoying being anonymous, being the girl on no one’s lips. But it’s true. I used to think I was such hot stuff, such a somebody, such a superior person.
Ugggg!!!
If I was such hot stuff where were my friends when I got pregnant and needed support? Where were they when I returned to school and students stayed away from me as if I stunk of skunk. Where were they when Justin beat the crap out of me and I had no one I could confide in?
What good was popularity without real friendship?
Because what I had before—when everyone in school knew my name—were fake friends. People who hung out with me so that my popularity rubbed off on them. So that meant I had a fake life.
Well, that fake life came face to face with the reality of Justin’s fist! That’s for sure.
Justin! Just thinking of him makes me nauseated with fear and fury. No guy will ever do to me what he did to me! I’m determined!
So when Alfredo starts trying to get close to me, twisted rage claws at me. What makes him think I want his company? What makes him think anybody has a right to make me do what I don’t want to do? I’m a slave to no one! Why can’t he take a hint? I’m just going to have to be mean to him! There’s no choice.
“Listen, dude,” I snap at him when he sidles up to me in the hallway when getting to the class we both share, “stop buzzing around me. You’re wasting your time with me.”
Alfredo looks at me with hurt eyes. “Araceli, why can’t we be friends?”
Hmmm. He pulled the friendship line. Low blow!
“Why do you want to be my friend?” I question suspiciously.
“I like being friends with smart people, Araceli,” he declares matter-of-factly.
Wow! No one had ever told me I was smart! In my other life, people would usually focus on my looks! Low blow! How could I not agree to be his friend when he called me smart?
Justin:
There’s some hot chick on the internet saying how a girl should stay with a guy who hits her. I really like this chick. She really knows what she’s talking about. She even broke up with a guy because he wouldn’t beat her hard enough. This girl really understands the heart of someone like me. If I wasn’t so in love with my lovely Lucette, I’d try to hook up with her. For sure I’d smack the internet chick hard enough so she knew how much I cared!
At this point I have to confess s
omething. It’s really hard for me to do it, but I have to admit to it. I’m a little ashamed to say that I would hit my wife sometimes. You see I was forced to do things I didn’t particularly want to do. The truth is that the only reason I had to smack my lovely Lucette was because I loved her so very much. Believe me, I wouldn’t have had to whack her if she didn’t incite me.
Why, oh why, would she provoke me?
Why would she make me hit her?
I’d feel really bad afterwards. I for sure didn’t want to hurt my awesome wife. I would bring her chocolates and flowers afterwards just to show her that I was sorry the situation had exploded. I would tell her that I had so much passion for her that my feelings would burst when they were challenged.
The love I have for Lucette is so deep, so enormous, so consuming that the fire erupts if it’s not taken care of. As soul-mates, it’s both Lucette’s and my job to take care of it. True love is like that.
True love.
Chapter 16
Lucette/Araceli:
Alfredo seems to sense that I need lots of space, so he gives it to me. He hasn’t tried to kiss me or anything like that. Thankfully, or I’d have to slap him with all my might. He’s actually lived up to the friendship deal. Also, it looks like he meant what he said about thinking I’m smart. He asks me what I think about assignments in Science class.
And he seems to care about what I respond!
No one had ever seemed to care or be interested in what was inside my brain!
And you know something?—for the first time in my life I’m really appreciating learning. I’m not bored in school anymore. Cracking the books open is a gateway to so much cool knowledge. For example, finding out that my environment is constantly changing because life is always transforming unlike death. There’s no such thing as standing still. This gives me comfort that my life with Justin hadn’t stood still in the horror, that I was evolving. You don’t know how glad I am that I never went through with my suicidal thoughts. You don’t know how grateful I am that I’m still alive and kicking.
I discuss the changing of everything on earth with Alfredo. It’s a neat discussion. He thinks human beings only accept change when they come to terms with the fact that they’re constantly transforming whether they want to or not. I think I agree. What do you think?
Speaking of change, I can feel my trust issues not being so set in stone anymore. The inclusive warmth of the Dynamic Trio is working wonders on me.
Even though I still don’t chatter a lot with Danila, Anelina, and Emily, they still manage to make me feel included. Still, I keep my guard up, but sometimes I really want to tell them everything like at this moment when we’re at lunch break talking about Chiffon.
“I hear she went to New York for the weekend just to buy a purse from a new designer,” bursts Anelina, sighing with spikes of envy in her face. All four of us look towards Chiffon’s lunch table where she’s showing off her mauve purse to her adoring fans.
I shrug. “And?”
The three girls eye me with disbelief.
“Wouldn’t it be awesome to be able to do something like that?” Emily questions.
I shrug again. “Whatever.” My glib answer causes startled expressions at my table. “Sorry,” I rush. “I didn’t mean to be so rude.”
“You really don’t wonder what it’d be like to be rich?” questions Danila, her voice in disbelief. The other two girls stare intently at me.
This is where it gets sticky. There’s no way I can tell them that I come from money without compromising myself. I hate to lie to them, but I don’t see how I can avoid it.
“I had a foster family that was rich,” I mumble, immediately touching my nose to make sure it isn’t growing. “They were very generous with me.”
“Wow!—really?” Emily blurts.
“What was it like?!” bursts Danila.
“Tell us about it,” implores Anelina.
I sigh deeply. “I guess it’s neat not to have to worry about money.”
“But what is it like to be able to buy everything you want?!” Emily shoots back.
I frown. “Things are things.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anelina questions.
“Things are not just things,” Danila blurts. “Just look at Chiffon with all her cool clothes and stuff.”
I sigh again. “Do you have a purse?” I ask Danila.
“You know I do.” She shoves her purse across the table to me.
“What does it do?” I ask.
All three girls eye me with baffled eyes as if they’re wondering where my line of questioning is leading.
“It carries my stuff.” Danila retorts as if I asked a stupid question.
I nod. “What does Chiffon’s purse do?”
“What?” Danila bursts.
“It carries her stuff too, right?”
Danila nods. “Yeah, right.”
“So why is her purse so much more superior to yours if it does the same being?” I question.
Emily rolls her eyes. “It’s a designer purse!”
I shrugged. “And?”
“It’s much more expensive,” Danila declares.
“And?”
Emily sighs in frustration. “It’s just a much better purse!”
“No, it’s not,” I state, shaking my head. “It’s a thing to hold other things just like yours. It doesn’t make the person who owns the designer crap superior—believe me, it doesn’t. People are just brainwashed people into thinking it does—that’s all.”
The Dynamic Trio becomes very pensive. I wish I could tell them about how all the designer crap I owned couldn’t protect me from Justin’s beatings or make me feel better.
Yeah, I agree that money is definitely fun and necessary, but give me Mrs. Sanchez’s warmth and understanding instead of new expensive things any day.
Any day.
Justin:
Ratchet is sure taking his sweet time recovering! He’s still lollygagging in the hospital.
But I have no choice but to wait for him. I absolutely can’t replace him with another detective, I keep telling myself. Ratchet is dangerous! Don’t ever get on his bad side.
I just have to learn to be patient. Patience has never been one of my virtues, but that doesn’t mean I can’t work on it. I just keep repeating to myself that Ratchet promised to get my lovely Lucette back to me.
She’ll be back with me soon.
Chapter 17
Lucette/Araceli:
Something horrible has happened. I don’t know what it actually is, but I know something really traumatic happened to Danila. The other two Dynamic Trio girls can’t seem to get it out of her, but she hasn’t cracked a smile or wanted to go out with us. Her eyes are usually red like she’s been crying. At school, some of the students point their fingers at her and snicker.
What’s up with Danila? I keep asking myself.
My heart breaks for her. It reminds me of when I was living the nightmare with Justin and had to keep it tucked deep inside where it twisted me into knots while I was unable to express to anybody what was happening to me.
“Danila,” I say to her, “please tell me what’s wrong.”
She eyes me with watery eyes. “I just can’t.”
“I won’t tell anyone else, but you have to let it out. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m too ashamed to talk about it!” she bursts.
“What?”
She groans deeply. “Let’s just drop this conversation, okay?”
“But—”
“Stop, okay?!” she bursts. “Stop interrogating me!”
I sigh and nod. “Okay, Danila. Please don’t get upset with me. Just know I’m here for you if you need me.”
She looks at me with relief. “Thanks, friend.”
I smile. “You’re welcome, friend.”
Justin:
I stare at the moon at night and wonder if my Lucette is looking at it too. Wouldn’t it be awesome
if we were gazing at it at the same time?—thinking about one another? By now she must miss me as much as I miss her. She must be coming to her senses and realizing that no one will ever love her as much as I love her.
She’s probably scared.
Scared that I won’t forgive her for having had a panic attack and lost her mind. There’s no other reasonable explanation as to why she left me. She must’ve lost her mind! The miscarriage must’ve affected her more than I thought.
She must be ashamed about having lost our baby, I say to myself as I keep gazing at the moon. I have to find her to tell her I forgive her. She needs to know that my love for her is so huge that nothing can destroy it.
“I forgive you, my lovely Lucette,” I whisper at the moon. “Just come back to me.”
Chapter 18
Lucette/Araceli:
It’s all over the internet. It’s gone viral. When I see it I more than freak out. Anelina and Emily had rushed over to the Sanchez home to show it to me on their electronic tablets.
My mouth is wide open as I stare at the screen. Anelina and Emily shake their heads. Luckily, the Sanchezes are out on an errand.
It’s Danila—a very drunk Danila all over social media.
Now I know what’s been bothering her. So does the whole world—her life is only one click away.
“Where’s Danila?” I croak out.
“I texted her that we’d be here,” Anelina informs. “She’s meeting us here in a little while.”
“Do you think she already knows she’s all over the internet?” I ask, concerned.
“No, I don’t think so,” murmurs Anelina.
“We have to break it to her,” declares Emily.
I nod. “Yeah. She’s been in a bad way for a while. I guess getting drunk at a party really traumatized her. Hopefully, her having gone viral won’t push her off some edge,” I mutter, worried.
“We’ll have to be there for her,” bursts Anelina. “I’m not going to let anything happen to my sister!”
Emily and I nod in unison.
With a click of the mouse Anelina shuts the horrible scene off. “I can’t stand to watch any more of this,” she asserts.
Emily and I quietly nod in unison again. Watching an intoxicated Danila, slurring words as she sang Let It Go and stumbling around at a party, is beyond horrible. Many people, some young teens but most seemed to be college students, snickered at her as they chugged their own alcoholic drinks. They roared with laughter making fun of Danila. Ridiculing her. Everyone at the bash was watching her. Guffaws, snorts, hoots. She was their private joke—now not so private.