Armand Twelve: Escape

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to MrsOogieBoogie for making the two police officers for me. ♥

---

I laid on my side in my uncomfortable bed, unable to sleep due to the welts and lashes from the beating I had endured earlier that evening. I winced every time I moved even a little bit. I would have opted to sleep without a shirt on, but since I shared a room with my little sister Tracy, that was out of the question.  My dad irritatingly had Tracy and I share a room together, while my little brother Samuel got his own room. The problem with being whipped is that there is never a bandaid big enough to place over your wounds because they're so haphazardly strewn across your back and even a little on your sides if you are unlucky. I wouldn't be able to even wear a bra for days after this, which made me angry. I was thinking, seriously, about leaving, just whisking myself away from this house, and fuck asking my dad for permission. I already tried the permission thing, to try to be civil and reason with him, and this is what he does to me?! What kind of person is he?!

I looked over at my sister's bed and saw that she was sleeping like a baby, which was crucial if my plan was going to work. I slowly pulled myself up to a sitting position, and placed my feet on the floor. I made my way over to our shared closet, retrieving my old backpack that I'd used during my college years. I slowly placed as many clothes as I could in my backpack, tshirts, jeans, dresses, undergarments, and socks. I was lucky I'd bought one of those oversized backpacks, so I was able to get quite a few things in it. When my backpack was full, I looked at the remaining clothes I had left in the closet, and decided to just leave them there because naturally I had packed the clothes that I most liked. I slipped my feet into my flip flops and slid the closet door shut quietly. Before I made my way out the bedroom door, I looked over again at my little sister to make sure she was still asleep.

I snuck out, shutting the door behind me. I made sure to walk very quietly through the rest of the house until I reached the front door, unlocking the deadbolt, and turning the knob. I stepped through the front door, and started down the the front steps toward freedom.

Or so I thought.

"Just where exactly do you think you are going, young lady?"

My dad's booming voice resonated behind me, and I froze dead in my tracks. Everything in my head was screaming at me to move, to run, to do anything, except stand there. My body however, refused to listen.

"I'm leaving. I'm moving away from you."

"Funny. I don't see you moving at all."

My dad's taunt was the spark I needed to start moving again, so I started walking, but that was a mistake because my dad grabbed my arm and violently spun me around so hard I felt my wrist burning where he had grabbed me. My backpack fell off during the scuffle and landed on the porch.

"OW! What are you doing? Just let me GO! Why do you have to control me all the time? Why are you so much of an asshole?"

Knowing that what I had just said should never have left my lips, I felt my dad punch me in the jaw and knock me down. While I was dazed, he picked up my backback, unzipped it and started throwing my clothes all over the porch.

"Let's see you try to leave now, without any clothes to take with you!"

I got up, and started picking up the clothes, gathering them in my arms, which angered my father enough to pull me by my shirt, spin me around, and bang my head into one of the porch columns. I cried out from the pain, fairly certain my nose had just been broken. I fell to the ground, dizzy from the assault. I sat where I was and heard my father yell at me some more.

"I'm the way I am because YOU need to be disciplined! Running away in the middle of the night after I told you that you could not move out! I will not be disrespected!"

"You can't control me anymore! I'm an adult!"

"No, you aren't an adult, you are my child! You will always be my child! Do you hear me?"

I tried standing up again but my father kicked me in the side to keep me down. When I fell, he pinned me with my hand behind my back and tried to restrain me so he could drag me back into the house, but I managed to wriggle out of his grasp. I wasn't free for long before he grabbed me by my hair and I screamed.

"SHUT UP! You ungrateful bitch, you will wake the whole neighborhood with that racket!"

While my dad had his hand on my hair, I managed to use my left hand to punch him in the back of the knee, and he released his grasp.

"Oh, you're going to regret that, you stupid slut."

The last thing I saw was my dad's foot making contact with my cheekbone, and then the world turned black.

---

The scene I saw in front of my neighbor's house was horrifying and not something I expected to see, especially not in this neighborhood. My neighbor was a priest, for goodness sake, why would anyone want to hurt him or his family? I caught a glimpse of the person on the gurney as I got closer, and I was surprised to see that it was Desiree Butchet, someone I remember from college, whom my friend Reese used to make fun of. I wondered what had happened to her, but I didn't want to be nosy so I tried to just keep going on my jog while trying to keep Desiree in my peripheral vision.

Seeing Desiree again made me remember the day I'd first seen her. Reese had bullied her out in the campus quad, and I had gone along with it. Today I felt ashamed at my past behavior, and seeing Desiree on a gurney outside of her own house made me regret it because Desiree clearly had her own problems already. Sadly, I knew why I acted that way, it was because I was a stupid college student who just wanted to fit into my sorority. Reese was the house president, and I went along with her because I wanted to stay in her good graces. I was also sad because that memory made me miss Reese. Despite her flaws, she had still been my friend, and she had died. A sour taste came to my mouth when I thought about how I was the one who had found her in her bed not breathing. The ambulance in front of Desiree's house left, and then I saw a really strange sight. Father Butchet was being arrested, well, trying to resist arrest as two police officers were attempting to take him into custody.

"What kind of nonsense is this?! You cannot just remove me from my own home like this!"

"Sir, we have reports that you assaulted your daughter, so we need to take you down to the station to ask you some questions."

"Ridiculous! Reports from who?! WHO reported me?!"

"We cannot divulge that information, sir. Now please, I don't want to have to add resisting arrest to the charges already being pressed against you."

"What charges?!"

"Aggravated assault."

"Heathens!"

"Sir, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. If you do not have an attorney, one will be assigned to you..."

Father Butchet was handcuffed and put into a police car, which then drove off, and once again, all was quiet in the subdivision. I looked around and noticed a phone had been dropped on the sidewalk. Curious, I picked it up and looked at it, trying to find out whose phone it might be. The call logs had a name that read "Armand Hunt," whose name I recognized to be the boy that Reese had flirted with when we were bullying Desiree. I looked in the contacts, and he looked to be the only contact the person had whose last name was not Butchet. I decided the phone must be Desiree's, and thought the best thing to do would be to drive to the hospital and leave the phone there so that when she got better, she would have it.

When I arrived at the hospital, I inquired about Desiree's room, but was then told I couldn't go in because I wasn't family. As I walked by the room, I stopped when I saw Mrs. Butchet and her two other children there. She saw me and came out of the room.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"I'm sorry for looking in, I think that I found Desiree's phone and I wanted to return it."

"Oh my, thank you, dear. You look somewhat familiar. What is your name?"

"Bethanne Zin. I live across the street from you."

"Oh! You are our neighbor. I am sorry for the ruckus we caused this morning, it seems there was a misunderstanding, I hope that it didn't disturb you."

"No, it's okay. Are- is Desiree okay? I saw her being put into the ambulance."

"Yes, she's fine. She has some healing to do, but she will recover. Thank you again for the phone, Bethanne."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Butchet."

---

I looked down at my poor sleeping daughter, wishing I could have done something to help her. I hated that I was such a coward, but my husband Dale truly chilled me to my very core. I knew that he beat our kids, and he even used to beat me, until I submitted and started obeying him. Both Tracy and Samuel have both submitted, but Desiree never did. I admired Desiree's willpower, but at the same time, I was annoyed by her foolishness. Now she had endured the fullness of Dale's wrath, and he was going to be punished by the law because she was in the hospital. I wondered who had called about the beating, perhaps it was the nice neighbor Bethanne whom I had just run into earlier. I doubted it was anyone in the house because we all feared for our lives and dared not go against Dale.

Tracy was being especially pouty and cranky, almost as if she didn't want to be here to support Desiree, while Samuel sat on the other side of her bed, holding her hand.

"Tracy? What is the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just bored, Mommy. I want Daddy to take me home."

"Honey I told you, Daddy cannot be here right now."

"Why not? I know he doesn't like Desiree, but he likes me, so he should be here."

"Tracy, your daddy and Desiree got into a serious disagreement, so he's getting a grown up time out."

"It's not Daddy's fault. Desiree probably deserved what happened."

"Tracy! Don't say that about your sister! Daddy is not supposed to treat anyone like that! Not you, not me, not Samuel, and not Desiree!"

"But, Mommy! It's the truth. I see how Desiree always makes Daddy angry. She's not a good girl. She doesn't want to make Daddy happy like the rest of us do. Daddy's a good man. Daddy told me that only bad people get treated badly. Daddy wouldn't have to punish Desiree if she was a good girl, but she's not! She deserved it!"

I didn't know how to respond to Tracy because I didn't want to turn her against her own father, but the fact that she said Dale was a good man made me question if she really thought that or if she had been brainwashed by Dale. I knew she remembered Dale beating her too because she wasn't too young to remember. I had come out of the kitchen, and Tracy had come to me sobbing into my arms because Daddy hurt her. I had confronted Dale only to land in the hospital with a broken arm and a black eye when he punched me, threw me against the door jamb, and slammed the door on my arm. After that day though, Tracy had changed. She became very much a daddy's girl, listening to everything he said. I supposed at that young of an age, being beaten once might cause her to realize that the only way to avoid it happening again was to obey without question. I really wondered about her well being.

I heard the door open, and saw a woman in a business suit walk into the room, causing my face to fall because I had a feeling that she had been sent from a certain government institution.

"Mrs. Butchet? I am with Child Protective Services. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right."

Curses, Marilyn, you were right. "Yes, of course. But not in the room. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to let my children stay in there so they can be with their sister."

"Not a problem."

I went out with the woman into the hallway and my hands became clammy when I saw her pull out a folder from her briefcase. I was so scared that the law would take my babies away from me, which was the last thing I wanted.

"Has your husband ever hit you or caused substantial bodily harm to you?"

I nodded meekly, embarrassed that I had been controlled by fear for most of my married life.

"Did he do this to your daughter Desiree?"

"Yes."

"Did you witness the assault?"

"No, I was not there when it happened."

"Do you mean you were not at home, or you were not witness to it?"

I sighed, knowing the answer would probably paint me as an unfit mother.

"I mean... that I was asleep when this was happening."

"I see that you have two smaller children, does your husband beat them?"

"He has not... not for at least a few years."

"But he has before, at least once?"

"Yes, he has."

"Do you or have you, ever tried to stop the beating of your smaller children from happening?"

"Yes, I have. Usually that is when I, myself, get beaten. He doesn't do it anymore though, he doesn't hit the smaller kids. They are safe."

"I am not sure anyone is safe under your roof, Mrs. Butchet."

"My husband was arrested this morning, he will not be at the house anymore. Please don't take my kids away. I love them. They've been through a lot, and without Dale there, they won't be in any danger. I always see that they have what they need to be happy."

"Mrs. Butchet, I am sorry, but I cannot let your children stay in the house until your husband has been sentenced. With him only in custody at the police station, investigations still need to happen, and in that time frame, there is a chance he will come home temporarily. I need to remove the two smaller children from the house right now, Your husband is too much of a wild card, and to ensure that what happened to your oldest daughter does not happen to you or your other two children, they will have to come with me for now."

"No, please. I'm begging you."

"I'm sorry, again."

Tears fell down my cheeks as the social worker peeked her head into the room and called for Samuel and Tracy, who I'm not sure knew what was going on. They came out with her and she told them to say goodbye to me. Tracy seemed like she was okay with it, which made me even sadder, while Samuel didn't want to let me go even though he was the older of the two.

"Come on, Samuel, God!"

Tracy whined at her brother, pulling at his pajama pants, while he gave me a hug and whispered in my ear.

"I love you, Mom."

I watched as the social worker led my children down the hall and away from me while my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. I hated that we all had to suffer like this because of Dale's temper. My mind returned to my poor Desiree and I went back into her room to sit by her bedside, wondering what she could have possibly done to make her father so upset at her that he would beat her within an inch of her life.