Some time had passed, and both Remy and I had graduated from college. I'd decided to stay in Louisiana and make my home there because I had grown to love the state, despite the really high humidity levels. Towards the end of my junior year, Desiree and I had gotten together many times for quick bites to eat around campus in between classes, and she had explained to me why she had run off so mysteriously that night at the comic book store. I felt really bad for her and also related to her quite a bit, knowing how much it sucks to get treated like shit from the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally.
Remy and I still lived together in the split level that my dad had so generously bought for us. He was getting a job as a general contractor with the biggest construction company in town, which he was really excited about, and he offered to build a house for me should I ever need to move. I was still looking for a job, since I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I'd graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, and basically got to paint all throughout my school years. I had put a few of my paintings up for sale in some of the local coffee shops, but so far no one had bitten the bullet and bought one, so I needed somewhat of a day job.
I had been looking online for anything in the area that might catch my fancy, and I was looking all across the board. It didn't matter so much to me if I "used my degree" or not, because I knew I was always going to be a painter at heart. Thoughts crossed my mind of working with Remy at his company, but I wasn't sure about it, I didn't want to seem like I was trying to be needy and desperate, by asking my roommate to get me a job. I was feeling a little bored today, having found nothing much on the job boards, so I called Desiree to see if she wanted to hang out.
It had been getting harder to get her to come out now that we weren't in school anymore. No doubt her overbearing father was tightening her reigns now that she didn't need to go to class, it probably felt like he was losing control of her if he let her do anything without his approval. Her father had never met me, and I was very glad for that because I don't know what my temper would be like around him considering that all the things I'd heard from Desiree about him sort of sounded like what my mom would do, minus the beating me up part. I figured I'd probably have some recurring memory or something that would irritate me.
"Hello?"
Desiree answered with a shaky voice, like she was nervous to be getting a phone call, and I knew it was probably true.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk, I need to clear my head."
"Um... it's only 2:48pm, so I'll make it back by curfew, sure. I'll meet you at the park by your house?"
"Yeah that's good."
Desiree hung up as soon as I agreed on our meeting place, and I felt sad that she had to act like she couldn't talk to me while she was in that house. I wondered if I could get her to move out, but she was very jittery around the subject of what to do now that college was over. I knew her dad had been reluctant to let her even go to college in the first place. I wasn't sure what he thought was going to happen, or even why he felt like he could keep her at home like this. She was a grown ass woman, she should be able to be independent, and be a grown up.
When I got to the park, Desiree was already there, sitting on a bench staring off into the distance. She caught my eye when I walked up to her, and smiled. I was glad to see her face light up because of me. I wanted to help her so much but I didn't know how, so it felt nice that my just being there could cause her even a little bit of joy.
"Hi, Armand, I'm so glad that you called, I was getting bored at home."
"I was bored too."
"Still looking for jobs?"
"Yup. You know the drill. Search, interview, get declined, go home."
"Aww, don't get discouraged, you'll find something, you're a great person."
"Thanks. What about you, what are you doing these days?"
"I'm trying to figure out how to tell my dad that I want to move out and get an apartment. You know how he is, the second I want to do anything for myself, he treats me like I'm going to die. It's so ridiculous that he can't let go of me. I'm 22 now, and I've been out in the world before, he acts like everything around me is going to kill me. It's so aggravating."
"What about telling him that? Telling him that you've been out, and you haven't died yet, so it must not be that bad?"
"I think that would be acceptable if he wasn't such a control freak, but he wants me to live his way, and his way only, which means, I can't get my own place unless I move into my husband's house. Well, get a husband, and then move in with him. I hate his religious practices, so much, Armand. He's choking the life out of me emotionally by doing this to me."
"Haven't you rebelled before? I mean, what is he going to do? He can't really get the authorities involved because you wouldn't be breaking any laws if you just moved out."
"I know, and yeah I have rebelled before, when I got my tattoo, but he beat me so hard that night, Armand. My leg still hurt from getting the tattoo, but then he hurt my back so much I had to sleep on my stomach, and even then, I couldn't really sleep. There have been other beatings, but they've subsided, they aren't as severe, just him slapping me every now and again."
I was a mix of shocked and disgusted at Desiree's situation when I heard that she basically gave up trying on her own life. I had the fleeting thought of asking her to marry me, but that seemed ridiculous considering we weren't a couple. We certainly hadn't ever done anything physical either, just hung out together to have a meal or go on a walk as friends, and I didn't really think I felt that way about her at the moment. Desiree was my other best friend however, so I cared about her, and it frustrated me to no end that she seemed to be trapped like a child in an adult body. I found her very unique from the other girls I had in my life, and somehow Desiree's innocence was appealing, but I didn't know why that was.
"Desiree, I wish I could help in some way with your living situation. You can't grow up if you live with your parents forever."
"Hmm. That's a good point, but a lot of males do that right? Live with their parents till they get married?"
"Yeah, but they're looked at as social pariahs, guys who can't get a girl, usually because most of the time girls who they do date, get turned off when they find out who they're living with."
"True. Ugh, I don't know why I keep justifying my dad's behavior and making excuses for his rules. I'm just so scared, Armand. I'm scared of getting beaten."
"How did you get him to let you go to college?"
"I told him it would give me more appeal for a potential husband. He didn't agree at first, since he believes that all men want a barefoot wife who's good for nothing but pregnancy and housework, but then I told him about the modern man, and how some men want a smart wife too, so he finally agreed. He even did that very reluctantly, though. I think I pushed him to his limit by asking him to let me go to college."
"I don't know, Desiree. I still think you should try. This is your life, and you're 22 now, it's like, life is short, do you really want to waste your youth living under a tyrant?"
"Thanks for pushing me, Armand, but I am really scared. I know you're right though, I just have a really large fear gland, I suppose."
"Well, when did you rebel? When did you get the tattoo? Is it possible you got it when you were still too young in his eyes, so that's why he beat you? If you'd gotten it later in life, would he have cared as much?"
"I got it when I was a senior in high school, and I don't know if it was my age that caused him to get so mad, I think it was just the fact that I didn't listen to him. He thinks tattoos are for heathens, and so he was mad that his daughter was acting like a heathen."
"It's been four years now, I don't know, I'm just trying to give you hope I guess."
"Thank you, Armand. No one has really ever done that for me. Give me hope."
Desiree pulled out her phone to check the time, then made a motion to get up off the bench, and I knew she was doing that because of her stupid curfew. She didn't want an embarrassing repeat of the night we hung out at the comic book store, and her father had torn her away from us hanging out, so ever since then, she always watched the time like a hawk so that she could get back in time.
"Curfew coming soon?"
"Yes, in about an hour. I should go. Thank you for the time together though, I really look forward to seeing you."
I looked into Armand's gorgeous light blue eyes, wondering if he would, or could, ever develop feelings for me. I'd known him for two years now and he was my best friend. I know he had Remy to fill that spot for him, but I only had him. Over the years, my small crush on Armand had turned into me thinking about him a lot. My heart jumped every time I saw his name flash across my screen when he would call or send me a text message. Everything in my body didn't want to leave his presence, but my head was screaming for me to go so I could make curfew. I smiled and headed towards my car, pondering everything that Armand had said to me regarding moving out, and standing up to my father.
I hated that I was a 22 year old woman who was terrified of her father. I shook my head at myself, and wondered if I would even ever have the gall to do what I needed to do. I knew I didn't want to live in my parent's house forever. My thoughts went back to Armand, and how I loved him, but felt like I couldn't tell him. I relished the idea of one day being married to him because I loved his good heart and how he was always taking care of me. He was the one person in my life who I wasn't afraid around, who made me feel happy. Suddenly I felt stronger in spirit, as if Armand's words had suddenly clicked. The fear was still there, but I felt that if I had someone like Armand in my life, I had to at least try for myself. He was right, the last time I was severely beaten was in high school, many years had passed, and my dad had let me go to college, so maybe he was loosening his control a little...
I gathered my bearings as I got out of my car and walked into my house, sitting down on the couch, confident about my decision to stand up for myself, when my father came out of his office.
"Hello Daddy."
"Desiree. Good to see you obeying your curfew. How was your outing?"
"Good, it was nice to talk to my friend."
My father shook his head because he disapproved of me talking about 'my friend,' since he knew it was the same boy I had talked to at the comic book store.
"Your friend? Have you and your friend done anything sinful on your outings?"
"What? No, of course not. He's just my friend."
"You should be looking for a husband, not just hanging out with your friend."
I was starting to get aggravated after he brought up the husband subject, which he did constantly. If I were to get married, I wanted it to be on my own time, not some ridiculous accelerated time frame to please my father, or as a reason to move out on my own. Moving out had to happen before me getting married, I had to be independent, I wanted to be independent. I pushed aside my natural defensiveness to argue with my father about the husband thing because that was how my father always derailed me from bringing up my wants. He would change the subject and make me upset about being single, and I would get so mad I'd usually leave and not finish talking to him about the original topic. Not this time though, this time I remembered the courage I had recently found to tell my father about what I had been thinking about before I went to see Armand. I stood up off the couch to try to command some presence, and give myself some confidence.
"I want to move out."
"What have I said about that? Do you have a husband?"
"No."
"Then, no you cannot move out."
I started to get scared because my dad always used his stature to command me back into submission. No. Not this time. I have to do something for myself. I'm a grown up, I should act like a grown up.
"I am a legal adult, Daddy, and I have been one since I turned 18. Technically I could have moved out then, but I was too scared to ask you if I could. I realize now that I have been scared my whole life, but I don't want to be scared anymore. I want to do this for myself. I went to college every day and the world didn't hurt me! The world is not scary like you think it is!"
"Excuse me? I do not think the world is scary. I think the world is out to get young girls like you who should be under the protection of their fathers or husbands! Why can you not get that through your thick skull?"
"Don't insult me, Daddy. I need to stand up for myself. My whole life I've been doing things for you, and I'm sick of it!"
"You disrespectful little slut! Running around with a heathen you met at a comic book store, and now you tell me you are sick of obeying ME?! It is your DUTY to obey me!"
Before I knew what was happening, my father pulled my hair and roughly threw me on the ground. The impact of the hardwood on my knees hurt so much and I cried out in pain.
"Daddy, no! Please don't!"
The first belt lashing hit me in the middle of my stomach because I made the mistake of turning around and trying to plead with my dad not to hit me. I screamed as the metal tore my shirt and gave me a bruise on the soft skin of my stomach. He flipped me over and started hitting me repeatedly on my back, and I felt sick when my back started to burn and itch from the lashings. I threw up from the pain and my dad hit me more until I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time, the warm trickle of blood. I wondered where my mom was at this moment, and then thought, well of course, even if she were here it wouldn't do any good because he'd go chasing her threatening to beat her up too. Finally he stopped, dropping the belt, its buckle hitting the floor close to my ear, making an incredibly loud sound which made me wince. I heard his footsteps, then some running water, and then he came back to tend my cuts.
"Why do you make me do this to you Desiree?"
"I didn't, remember? I said no, please don't."
"You know what I mean, young lady."
"Why do you do this, Daddy, why do you tend to me after you are the one who inflicted pain on me?"
"Because I love you, and the pain is for your own good."
I closed my eyes, annoyed and confused about my father's logic, or lack thereof. The voice in my head that was always preventing me from standing up for myself, the fear part of me, spoke up just then, saying 'See Desiree, this is why you don't ask for things from Daddy, this is what happens. You bring this on yourself.' I wanted to scream, but held it in as my father continued to clean the blood off my back, wondering if I'd ever have a normal life.
Remy and I still lived together in the split level that my dad had so generously bought for us. He was getting a job as a general contractor with the biggest construction company in town, which he was really excited about, and he offered to build a house for me should I ever need to move. I was still looking for a job, since I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I'd graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, and basically got to paint all throughout my school years. I had put a few of my paintings up for sale in some of the local coffee shops, but so far no one had bitten the bullet and bought one, so I needed somewhat of a day job.
I had been looking online for anything in the area that might catch my fancy, and I was looking all across the board. It didn't matter so much to me if I "used my degree" or not, because I knew I was always going to be a painter at heart. Thoughts crossed my mind of working with Remy at his company, but I wasn't sure about it, I didn't want to seem like I was trying to be needy and desperate, by asking my roommate to get me a job. I was feeling a little bored today, having found nothing much on the job boards, so I called Desiree to see if she wanted to hang out.
It had been getting harder to get her to come out now that we weren't in school anymore. No doubt her overbearing father was tightening her reigns now that she didn't need to go to class, it probably felt like he was losing control of her if he let her do anything without his approval. Her father had never met me, and I was very glad for that because I don't know what my temper would be like around him considering that all the things I'd heard from Desiree about him sort of sounded like what my mom would do, minus the beating me up part. I figured I'd probably have some recurring memory or something that would irritate me.
"Hello?"
Desiree answered with a shaky voice, like she was nervous to be getting a phone call, and I knew it was probably true.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk, I need to clear my head."
"Um... it's only 2:48pm, so I'll make it back by curfew, sure. I'll meet you at the park by your house?"
"Yeah that's good."
Desiree hung up as soon as I agreed on our meeting place, and I felt sad that she had to act like she couldn't talk to me while she was in that house. I wondered if I could get her to move out, but she was very jittery around the subject of what to do now that college was over. I knew her dad had been reluctant to let her even go to college in the first place. I wasn't sure what he thought was going to happen, or even why he felt like he could keep her at home like this. She was a grown ass woman, she should be able to be independent, and be a grown up.
When I got to the park, Desiree was already there, sitting on a bench staring off into the distance. She caught my eye when I walked up to her, and smiled. I was glad to see her face light up because of me. I wanted to help her so much but I didn't know how, so it felt nice that my just being there could cause her even a little bit of joy.
"Hi, Armand, I'm so glad that you called, I was getting bored at home."
"I was bored too."
"Still looking for jobs?"
"Yup. You know the drill. Search, interview, get declined, go home."
"Aww, don't get discouraged, you'll find something, you're a great person."
"Thanks. What about you, what are you doing these days?"
"I'm trying to figure out how to tell my dad that I want to move out and get an apartment. You know how he is, the second I want to do anything for myself, he treats me like I'm going to die. It's so ridiculous that he can't let go of me. I'm 22 now, and I've been out in the world before, he acts like everything around me is going to kill me. It's so aggravating."
"What about telling him that? Telling him that you've been out, and you haven't died yet, so it must not be that bad?"
"I think that would be acceptable if he wasn't such a control freak, but he wants me to live his way, and his way only, which means, I can't get my own place unless I move into my husband's house. Well, get a husband, and then move in with him. I hate his religious practices, so much, Armand. He's choking the life out of me emotionally by doing this to me."
"Haven't you rebelled before? I mean, what is he going to do? He can't really get the authorities involved because you wouldn't be breaking any laws if you just moved out."
"I know, and yeah I have rebelled before, when I got my tattoo, but he beat me so hard that night, Armand. My leg still hurt from getting the tattoo, but then he hurt my back so much I had to sleep on my stomach, and even then, I couldn't really sleep. There have been other beatings, but they've subsided, they aren't as severe, just him slapping me every now and again."
I was a mix of shocked and disgusted at Desiree's situation when I heard that she basically gave up trying on her own life. I had the fleeting thought of asking her to marry me, but that seemed ridiculous considering we weren't a couple. We certainly hadn't ever done anything physical either, just hung out together to have a meal or go on a walk as friends, and I didn't really think I felt that way about her at the moment. Desiree was my other best friend however, so I cared about her, and it frustrated me to no end that she seemed to be trapped like a child in an adult body. I found her very unique from the other girls I had in my life, and somehow Desiree's innocence was appealing, but I didn't know why that was.
"Desiree, I wish I could help in some way with your living situation. You can't grow up if you live with your parents forever."
"Hmm. That's a good point, but a lot of males do that right? Live with their parents till they get married?"
"Yeah, but they're looked at as social pariahs, guys who can't get a girl, usually because most of the time girls who they do date, get turned off when they find out who they're living with."
"True. Ugh, I don't know why I keep justifying my dad's behavior and making excuses for his rules. I'm just so scared, Armand. I'm scared of getting beaten."
"How did you get him to let you go to college?"
"I told him it would give me more appeal for a potential husband. He didn't agree at first, since he believes that all men want a barefoot wife who's good for nothing but pregnancy and housework, but then I told him about the modern man, and how some men want a smart wife too, so he finally agreed. He even did that very reluctantly, though. I think I pushed him to his limit by asking him to let me go to college."
"I don't know, Desiree. I still think you should try. This is your life, and you're 22 now, it's like, life is short, do you really want to waste your youth living under a tyrant?"
"Thanks for pushing me, Armand, but I am really scared. I know you're right though, I just have a really large fear gland, I suppose."
"Well, when did you rebel? When did you get the tattoo? Is it possible you got it when you were still too young in his eyes, so that's why he beat you? If you'd gotten it later in life, would he have cared as much?"
"I got it when I was a senior in high school, and I don't know if it was my age that caused him to get so mad, I think it was just the fact that I didn't listen to him. He thinks tattoos are for heathens, and so he was mad that his daughter was acting like a heathen."
"It's been four years now, I don't know, I'm just trying to give you hope I guess."
"Thank you, Armand. No one has really ever done that for me. Give me hope."
Desiree pulled out her phone to check the time, then made a motion to get up off the bench, and I knew she was doing that because of her stupid curfew. She didn't want an embarrassing repeat of the night we hung out at the comic book store, and her father had torn her away from us hanging out, so ever since then, she always watched the time like a hawk so that she could get back in time.
"Curfew coming soon?"
"Yes, in about an hour. I should go. Thank you for the time together though, I really look forward to seeing you."
I looked into Armand's gorgeous light blue eyes, wondering if he would, or could, ever develop feelings for me. I'd known him for two years now and he was my best friend. I know he had Remy to fill that spot for him, but I only had him. Over the years, my small crush on Armand had turned into me thinking about him a lot. My heart jumped every time I saw his name flash across my screen when he would call or send me a text message. Everything in my body didn't want to leave his presence, but my head was screaming for me to go so I could make curfew. I smiled and headed towards my car, pondering everything that Armand had said to me regarding moving out, and standing up to my father.
I hated that I was a 22 year old woman who was terrified of her father. I shook my head at myself, and wondered if I would even ever have the gall to do what I needed to do. I knew I didn't want to live in my parent's house forever. My thoughts went back to Armand, and how I loved him, but felt like I couldn't tell him. I relished the idea of one day being married to him because I loved his good heart and how he was always taking care of me. He was the one person in my life who I wasn't afraid around, who made me feel happy. Suddenly I felt stronger in spirit, as if Armand's words had suddenly clicked. The fear was still there, but I felt that if I had someone like Armand in my life, I had to at least try for myself. He was right, the last time I was severely beaten was in high school, many years had passed, and my dad had let me go to college, so maybe he was loosening his control a little...
I gathered my bearings as I got out of my car and walked into my house, sitting down on the couch, confident about my decision to stand up for myself, when my father came out of his office.
"Hello Daddy."
"Desiree. Good to see you obeying your curfew. How was your outing?"
"Good, it was nice to talk to my friend."
My father shook his head because he disapproved of me talking about 'my friend,' since he knew it was the same boy I had talked to at the comic book store.
"Your friend? Have you and your friend done anything sinful on your outings?"
"What? No, of course not. He's just my friend."
"You should be looking for a husband, not just hanging out with your friend."
I was starting to get aggravated after he brought up the husband subject, which he did constantly. If I were to get married, I wanted it to be on my own time, not some ridiculous accelerated time frame to please my father, or as a reason to move out on my own. Moving out had to happen before me getting married, I had to be independent, I wanted to be independent. I pushed aside my natural defensiveness to argue with my father about the husband thing because that was how my father always derailed me from bringing up my wants. He would change the subject and make me upset about being single, and I would get so mad I'd usually leave and not finish talking to him about the original topic. Not this time though, this time I remembered the courage I had recently found to tell my father about what I had been thinking about before I went to see Armand. I stood up off the couch to try to command some presence, and give myself some confidence.
"I want to move out."
"What have I said about that? Do you have a husband?"
"No."
"Then, no you cannot move out."
I started to get scared because my dad always used his stature to command me back into submission. No. Not this time. I have to do something for myself. I'm a grown up, I should act like a grown up.
"I am a legal adult, Daddy, and I have been one since I turned 18. Technically I could have moved out then, but I was too scared to ask you if I could. I realize now that I have been scared my whole life, but I don't want to be scared anymore. I want to do this for myself. I went to college every day and the world didn't hurt me! The world is not scary like you think it is!"
"Excuse me? I do not think the world is scary. I think the world is out to get young girls like you who should be under the protection of their fathers or husbands! Why can you not get that through your thick skull?"
"Don't insult me, Daddy. I need to stand up for myself. My whole life I've been doing things for you, and I'm sick of it!"
"You disrespectful little slut! Running around with a heathen you met at a comic book store, and now you tell me you are sick of obeying ME?! It is your DUTY to obey me!"
Before I knew what was happening, my father pulled my hair and roughly threw me on the ground. The impact of the hardwood on my knees hurt so much and I cried out in pain.
"Daddy, no! Please don't!"
The first belt lashing hit me in the middle of my stomach because I made the mistake of turning around and trying to plead with my dad not to hit me. I screamed as the metal tore my shirt and gave me a bruise on the soft skin of my stomach. He flipped me over and started hitting me repeatedly on my back, and I felt sick when my back started to burn and itch from the lashings. I threw up from the pain and my dad hit me more until I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time, the warm trickle of blood. I wondered where my mom was at this moment, and then thought, well of course, even if she were here it wouldn't do any good because he'd go chasing her threatening to beat her up too. Finally he stopped, dropping the belt, its buckle hitting the floor close to my ear, making an incredibly loud sound which made me wince. I heard his footsteps, then some running water, and then he came back to tend my cuts.
"Why do you make me do this to you Desiree?"
"I didn't, remember? I said no, please don't."
"You know what I mean, young lady."
"Why do you do this, Daddy, why do you tend to me after you are the one who inflicted pain on me?"
"Because I love you, and the pain is for your own good."
I closed my eyes, annoyed and confused about my father's logic, or lack thereof. The voice in my head that was always preventing me from standing up for myself, the fear part of me, spoke up just then, saying 'See Desiree, this is why you don't ask for things from Daddy, this is what happens. You bring this on yourself.' I wanted to scream, but held it in as my father continued to clean the blood off my back, wondering if I'd ever have a normal life.
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