Armand Fourteen: Newfound Strength

Guest Starring: Two Police Officers made by MrsOogieBoogie/Freckled-Pixels

---

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

"My dad is beating my sister on the porch."

"Okay, can your dad see you? Are you in any danger?"

"No, I don't think so, but I'm trying to be quiet, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, don't apologize, tell me some more details. Where are you?"

"I'm at my bedroom window, it overlooks the porch. Oh my God.. He's pushing her against one of the columns, I'm scared.. please send help."

"What's your address?"

"162 Savannah Lane.. oh God, I'm afraid he's going to kill her!"

"Help is on the way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ END OF RECORDING ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hushed silence filled the courtroom after the damning 9-1-1 tape was played for everyone to hear. The mystery witness the police were looking for was Samuel Butchet, Dale's fifteen year old son.

"The court calls Samuel Butchet to the stand."

I walked up to the witness stand nervous, yet excited to finally get some freedom from the hell I had been raised in. I probably looked weak in the eyes of my family, since I hadn't caused any trouble for Dad after the time he punched me and locked me in my room for two days. I don't even remember what I had supposedly done, but that memory stuck with me. I had fooled Tracy and Dad for years, but I knew the truth. The only reason I had "submitted" was that I had a deep desire inside me to survive, which I knew could make me look compliant, but I was willing to take that chance. Dad's punishment had made me afraid I would starve, so he was able to control me upon threat of death. I never believed anything he said, though, because he just sounds crazy to me. I never tried to go against Dad regarding anything of my own, but I did try to intervene a couple of times when I saw Dad attacking Mom. I was always unsuccessful at saving her, though, as I was only eleven at the time, and it was easy for my Dad to fling me across the room with just one small push.

I was glad to see that Desiree had so much support, Mom was there, as well as the two police officers who arrested Dad. There was another woman there whom I didn't know, but I was glad for her presence nevertheless. My nervousness about testifying was countered by my deep desire to finally expose my father's cruelty, and if the law was going to offer a helping hand, I was damn sure not going to refuse it.  Dad and Desiree had always had screaming matches after which she would be whipped with a belt, but I had never seen Dad go so insane and use the concrete as his accomplice. I didn't know how he could call himself a religious man when he was clearly hellbent on acting like the opposite of a saint. I genuinely felt like Dad was going to kill Desiree had he been given the chance, which is why when the officers came to my group home inquiring if I would testify against my father, I decided to break my silence. I saw Tracy shooting daggers at me with her eyes, but I didn't care. I thought she was crazy, and maybe just as evil as Dad for going along with his antics.

"Mr. Butchet, is that your voice on the 9-1-1 recording?"

"Yes."

"Why did you call 9-1-1 that night?"

"I saw my Dad hit my sister, and I knew it wasn't right. I was afraid she was in danger."

"Why would she be in danger? He's her father too! Could it be you misunderstood a "hit" for a simple raising of the hand to stop someone, a raise that wouldn't make contact with them at all? You weren't there, you were all the way up at your bedroom win----"

"OBJECTION! Badgering the witness! He's only fifteen for Christ's sake!"

"SUSTAINED. Please just ask the witness questions based on fact, Mr. Haskle, and not his own speculations."

"Yes, your Honor. Mr. Butchet, on the tape you state you were afraid. Why?"

"Because my father scares me. He's hit me before when he felt I was doing something he didn't like. I knew he wouldn't like that I was calling the police."

"So why speak up now? Why not go to the police the first time he allegedly beat you?"

"I wanted my father to stop hitting Desiree. Previous times, I just tried to stop my dad, but he always got the upper hand. I was scared for Desiree, and I wanted a sure solution. I know 9-1-1 helps people with emergencies. This was an emergency."

"So you're just a scared little kid. Should we really be taking this child's words seriou-?"

"OBJECTION!!"

"SUSTAINED. Mr. Haskle, if you have no more real questions for this witness, please just spare me my time and SIT down."

"Yes, Your Honor. No further questions."

"Your witness, Ms. Cazelton."

"Mr. Butchet, did you feel in your heart that calling 9-1-1 was in the best interest of your sister, or your entire family?"

"My entire family."

"Why is that?"

"My dad abuses all of us physically. He has for years."

"OBJECTION! Witness speculation!"

"OVERRULED. It is true that Ms. Cazleton needs evidence to show whether abuse has indeed been going on for years aside from this incident, but she is in process of discussing this with the witness, Counselor."

"Why would he abuse you? What was his trigger, from your perspective, Mr. Butchet."

"Dad had a lot of rules. If we stepped outside of any of those rules, a physical punishment followed. He would beat us with his belt."

"Do you know what may have triggered your father that night you called 9-1-1?"

"My sister looked like she was leaving the house in the middle of the night. My dad has a strict curfew for all of us, and she wasn't obeying it."

"What made you aware of the situation?"

"The porch is right under my bedroom window, and I heard my dad yelling. I went to my window to see what he was yelling about."

"How many times did you see your father hit Desiree?"

"OBJECTION! Counselor is implying my client hit his daughter! Putting words in the witness' mouth!"

"SUSTAINED. Ms. Cazelton, reword your question for the court."

"Sorry, your Honor. Mr. Butchet, what did you witness from your bedroom window?"

"I saw my dad pushing Desiree into one of the columns on our house, and she hit her head.."

"...Then I saw him kick her in the stomach with his knee.."

"...Then I saw Dad throw her to the ground, put his knee on her back, pull her hair, and wrench her arm behind her back. The last thing I saw was him... I saw him..."

"Please try to continue, Mr. Butchet."

"...I saw him kick her in the face..."

I couldn't hold my composure anymore as I felt the pain of everything I was describing. It felt like I was right back there on that awful night doing the best I could to try to save Desiree from afar. I broke down into tears, hugging myself to try to combat the chill that had started coursing through my chest as I was describing the incident outside my window. My hands were clenched in fists because I also felt extreme rage towards my father for what he had done to our family all these years. I looked over at him, wanting to punch the smug look off his stupid face. He wasn't even sitting in his chair like he gave a fuck what was going on with his own children. Me, the witness, and Desiree, the plaintiff.

Dad caught me looking at him and glared, trying to intimidate me, no doubt, but I wasn't going to be kept under his thumb any longer. His eyes looked so cold and calculating under his angry eyebrows. I'd always wondered what made my dad tick. Did he get some odd pleasure out of seeing his family suffer in so many ways?

"That's enough for now, court will take a ten minute recess. Thank you, Mr. Butchet. You may step down."

---

I watched as my brother Samuel broke down on the witness stand when he described seeing Dad kick me in the face, and thought, 'Yes, that is the proper reaction to the events of that night,' not whatever Dad was thinking. I saw him glaring at Samuel and I couldn't understand what was wrong with him. I've always gone to church, upon Dad's request of course, but his sermons never matched the man I saw at our house. At church he was always inspiring and helpful, and it made me wonder if he just never wanted our family. Would he have been happier single? He sure doesn't treat Mom like he loves her. He just uses her for her housekeeping skills, skills that he wanted to brainwash me into doing too, for a man.

*BZZ-BZZ.*

My phone vibrated, and I took the recess to look at who had sent me a message. Once again, Armand's name flashed across the screen. My heart fluttered, and I swear it skipped a beat. Samuel's testimony had inspired me. He was so brave to go in public and tell everyone what a monster our father was, despite his age, and the many death glares he no doubt endured. I pushed all my insecurities I had the other day about my feelings for Armand out of my mind. I was good enough to have him as a friend. If my little brother thought I was worth fighting for, I believed it. I opened the message to read it. 

I had a mix of emotions when I saw the past messages that I had ignored. Part of me laughed when Armand thought he was acting like a clingy stalker because that wasn't what I thought of him at all. Part of me was sad that I didn't have the balls to answer him. Part of me got teary eyed when he said he missed me. It really did sound like he was genuinely worried about me after I had left the park so abruptly that day after we had talked about me moving out. Maybe he thought I had moved out and away from him as well. Suddenly I got a pang of guilt for making him feel that way. I had been so sucked into my family drama that I hadn't even thought about how all of this would make him feel. He hadn't seen me for over a month, and the way I had left him was worrisome. Part of the time I was in my coma, so I didn't feel bad about that one since that was out of my control. The stalker message was the one I got when I was in the clinic and couldn't respond. Couldn't, or didn't want to? No, of course I wanted to, he makes my heart feel warm. God, I'm an ass. The message about him hoping he wasn't bothering me was the one I had just received. Court recess was going to be over soon, and I wanted to let him know I was ok, so I sent him a simple message back.

---

*BEEP-BEEP.*

I pulled out my phone after it beeped in my pocket, and saw a familiar name flash across my screen. Holy shit! Desiree finally replied to me! I felt a ridiculous smile come across my face when all my fears of possibly being a clingy asshole disappeared. 

Desiree didn't hate me like I had been working myself up to believe. Take that, Mom. I had healed for the most part regarding my crazy mother and how she made me feel now that I had Ephemera to teach me that almost all of the thoughts Mom had told me were not true, but the thoughts had been resurfacing during the time I had momentarily lost touch with Desiree. When I opened Desiree's message, I have to admit I had more questions than answers, but at least she was talking to me again.

I wondered what could possibly have happened to Desiree that she needed to be in court, but I hoped it wasn't anything too terrible. I was happy that she had posted a sentence with the word later, meaning she wanted to keep in touch. One of my other fears was that I would turn possessive like my mom had done to my dad. My stalker message was an attempt to poke fun at myself for that thought. I hated my mom and I knew that I would never treat anyone like my mom treated my dad, but I didn't know how much of that awful behavior was hereditary, or subconscious.

Remy walked past me, laughing, no doubt because he saw that I had a Joker like smile plastered across my face while staring at my phone.

"So... how's Desiree?"

"Shut up, Remy... but she's fine? I think? She's in court, but she said she'd tell me what was up later."

"Court? I hope it's nothing too serious."

"Yeah, me too, but I suppose at the rate people seem to be suing each other over all kinds of dumb shit these days, it's possible it's minor. She didn't sound especially pained or anything."

"That's true. People are fucking ridiculous."

---

"The court calls Marilyn Butchet to the witness stand."

I walked towards the witness stand after the court came back from recess. The night the social worker came to the hospital, I had willingly answered her questions about Dale's past abuse of me and my children. It hadn't sunk in that night that I had any fault in the situation because I genuinely felt like I had been keeping my children safe. This past month, however, had given me a lot of time to think. Samuel and Tracy were in a group home, Dale had been remanded to prison after his bail had been denied, and Desiree was living at the physical therapy rehabilitation clinic. I realized I was just as guilty as Dale was for what had happened to my family. I couldn't bring myself to look at Desiree as I walked past her, afraid to see what she might be feeling, especially when it came to me. I had visited her every night she was in her coma, and I was sure she knew I loved her, but I was ashamed of how cowardly I had been. I hoped that Desiree knowing I was just about to go testify against her father would make her see how much I wanted to make amends with her.

I was an adult, yet I had continued to let Dale treat me like a child for most of our marriage. I let him boss me around and put me in my place. I don't know why I did that, I suppose it had just become routine ever since that night Dale had his first big blowup. It was when Tracy was six, she had probably just been doing something children do, but Dale brought her to her room and beat her with his belt. I didn't know it had been so serious until Tracy came into the kitchen crying. I went to find Dale and yelled at him about hitting Tracy, but that's when he threw me against the door frame of his office. Samuel came in and tried to stop Dale from hitting me again, but Dale shoved him out of the way, and he fell over Dale's desk. Dale then proceeded to hold my arm on the door frame, and slammed the door on my arm, breaking it. Afterwards, Dale took me to the hospital to get my arm put into a cast. He acted like an angel towards all the hospital staff, pretending like he was the doting husband trying to take care of his wife. His personality seemed to always be switching back and forth like that.

When he was the headmaster of the Catholic high school, he often came home from work venting about the discipline he had to dole out on unruly children, and I suddenly got a pang of uneasiness in my stomach. Had he abused other people's children, using the guise of headmaster to get away with it? I took a deep breath, trying to ready myself for my testimony. I sat on the witness stand chair and looked out at the courtroom, my eyes wandering over to Dale, who had changed from looking smug during Samuel's testimony, to looking at the table in front of him. I couldn't tell if he was just bored with the whole thing since he probably thought he was right, or if some part of him did feel shame and guilt for beating Desiree. Yeah right, Marilyn, he probably feels shame and guilt, not for beating Desiree, but for getting caught.

"Mr. Haskle, your witness."

"Misssusss Byooo-shayyyy."

Dale's lawyer dragged out my name, trying to throw me off before he even asked me any questions. I tried to remain strong with what newfound strength I had discovered from being apart from Dale for a month.

"Did you see my client hit your daughter on the night in question?"

"No."

"What are you even here testifying about then?"

"OBJECTION! Counselor knows the answer to that, he's badgering yet another witness!"

"SUSTAINED. Mrs. Butchet, you do not have to answer that."

"Mrs. Butchet, your son alleges that there is a history of abuse by my client regarding your entire family. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Mrs. Butchet, is my client, your husband, not a religious man? Could it be that you just misunderstood his level of discipline for abuse?"

"NO. Dale is abusive! He goes overboard. Discipline never has to involve broken bones or bloody wounds!"

"Well, have you ever gone to the hospital? Broken bones can't be fixed with home remedies, now can they?"

"I went once."

"Did you tell anyone at the hospital about the alleged abuse? A nurse? A doctor?"

"No."

"Because my client was not abusing you, correct?"

"N- no."

"Ah-ha!"

"No, that's not what I mea-"

"No further questions, Your Honor."

Dammit, Marilyn, now isn't the time to screw something up like this! Dale's lawyer was good and that was awful for me. The way he had worded his question confused me on how I was supposed to answer it. He wasn't correct, and that's what I was responding to, but then he made it sound like I had said Dale wasn't abusing me. Shit, I hope I didn't just mess this up for Desiree. My heart sank more, once again, when I looked towards Dale only to see a slow, creepy smile spread across his face because he was probably coming to the same revelation I was. If I just screwed up my testimony, then Dale would have won something precious... his freedom.

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Armand Thirteen: Healing Wounds

Guest Starring: Two Police Officers made by MrsOogieBoogie

I held onto the railing of the physical therapy bars while trying to move my legs at a normal pace. My doctor told me I hadn't woken up right away after my surgery to fix my internal bleeding, despite the fact that all my head CTs had come back clear. I had been kept under observation for a week to make sure I didn't develop a brain bleed from my dad kicking me in the head that night. After that, I still hadn't woken up, so they kept me in the hospital to make sure my ribs and wrist were healing, and to make sure my back wounds didn't get infected since some of the cuts were very deep. Finally, a month later, I opened my eyes. My body had physically healed from all its severe bruising, so my doctor sent me to a rehabilitation clinic. Today marked the day when I was supposed to get up and walk around so that I could relearn normal function. Laying in bed for a month had caused my muscles to become weak and even though they weren't completely atrophied, they were definitely tired and unwilling to support my weight without a bar to hang on to.

I can't really walk that well, and even standing seems to be a challenge. I am very glad my physical therapist Dylan is there to catch me when I undoubtedly fall. I wonder what Armand is doing today, and I wish that I could see him. I'm unsure though because as much as I want to see him, I don't want him to see me like this. I know that he's already seen me get bullied, so I'm not really afraid of him thinking I'm weak, since I'm fairly certain he already knows that. I just feel like with my newfound romantic feelings for him, it's making me really care about what he might want, and I don't want him to feel like I'm just a pain in his ass, someone that he has to fix because she's always fucked up. I know this is temporary and that I will regain full mobility since nothing is broken, and it's just a matter of my muscles remembering how to work again, but I still feel like if Armand saw me at this stage in my life, he would think less of me, like I was an inconvenience somehow? I'm having trouble finding the balance between standing up for myself and feeling defeated when I do. So far trying to do that has resulted in me getting beaten up twice.

"Okay, Desiree, that was really good, you walked pretty far for your first time. It'll get easier, I promise. We should do some stretches now, though."

My mother told me she visited everyday while I was in a coma, or so she says, since I didn't actually know what was happening around me. I believe her though, since I know that she loves me. She told me that Tracy and Samuel have been taken out of her custody because of what happened to me, and I have been feeling depressed about it. I caused my mom to endure the heartache of her children being taken away from her, all because I chose to disobey my dad. She keeps telling me that it's not my fault and that she's not mad at me, but I don't know that I believe her. After being punished so often, sometimes I wonder if it's even worth not submitting to dad like my whole family does.

Mom has been going through a custody hearing, where the law will determine whether she gets to keep raising Tracy and Samuel or if they'll permanently be placed in the foster care system. Dad has been going through a criminal hearing because the police said they had evidence that he beat me up so much I could have died. I don't know what will happen with that, but I know my family is permanently broken, and I feel completely responsible. I think I am at rock bottom today, and it's not a good place to be.

*Beep beep*

My phone made a notification sound just as I got done with my stretches, and I made my way over to one of the walls for support. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that the text was from Armand. A wave of panic came over me because of all the insecurities I had just been thinking about. I wanted to respond to him, but my fingers seemed to have forgotten how to work. Just at that moment, Dylan came over to take me back to my room. Responding to Armand was going to have to wait, and part of me was relieved.

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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.

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Sunshine Blogger Award

The Rules:

1. Thank the person who nominated you and add a link to their blog.

2. Answer the 11 questions sent by the person who nominated you.

3. Nominate 11 bloggers and add their links. (y'all, I'm not including questions to answer. If you want to, you can answer questions from the ones that I answer below).

4. Notify the bloggers you included.

5. Keep the rules in your post.

Nominated By: SandyBeachGirl, author of Listening to My Heart

♥ Thank you so much for the nomination. I honestly didn't think that I would get one because while this award was going around, I had fallen off the face of the planet. Thanks for thinking of me. And yes, I loved that thing you did with the hearts at the end of your post, so I'm replicating the idea. LOL ♥

What is the Sunshine Blogger Award?

Well, it is of course an award for bloggers from other bloggers. It is a beautiful way to share all the amazing things other bloggers do and write about. To recognize their efforts in inspiring others to do what they love.

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***2 - Hmm... Sandy didn't actually ask any questions, LOL, so I guess I'll just answer the ones she answered, per her suggestion.***

Originally asked by violincat on Sandy's blog:

1. Do you have any favorite characters in your own stories? Who?

I do. Picking one right now is pretty difficult. I only just returned to my blog a few months ago, so I've been a bit detached from my characters for a while. I would consider Maximus my favorite probably, because he had flaws that made him seem very real as a person, and he was able to learn from mistakes and become a better man, rather than the rowdy teenager he used to be. 

2. What are your favorite genres to read or watch?
I'm going to go with 'watch,' because when I try to read books I fall asleep. LOL. I like watching historical dramas, action movies with a plot, psychological thrillers, and guy humor (think The Hangover series).

3. Which fictional character do you wish you could be real life friends with?
Batman. I want to be real life friends with Batman.

4. Would you rather land the perfect job or true love?

I would rather have the perfect job because if I'm going to be doing it for the rest of my life, then it better be damn perfect, or I will hate my life, and then I won't even feel like I'm capable of finding true love if I'm unhappy in other parts of my life. I've been there before, with a shitty, not perfect job, and oh man, was I a bitch to be around. LOL.

5. Do you cook or bake? If not, would you want to learn how to?

I do both. I like to follow recipes for the most part, to see how close I can get it to looking and tasting like the recipe says. I like trying new things too, but nothing too exotic, I don't like the idea of eating organs or whatever. *throws up* LOL, no offense if any of you reading this enjoy that sort of thing, it's just not for me. I would like to try making kolachis this Christmas. Hehe, we will see though.

6. What is your dream career?

My dream career is to be an actress.

7. What is the one thing you absolutely can't live without?

Sii--imssss. Okay, that's probably not true, considering I fell off the earth regarding my Sims for almost a year. LOL. I could not live without movies. Countless times a movie has spoken to me, inspired me, and even once, saved my life, so literally... that statement is true, I could not live without movies.

8. Which country do you most want to visit?

That's a tough one. Can I pick a continent instead? LOL. Hmm.. I will go with France, since I am trying to learn how to speak French.

9. Are you a day or night person?

Night person. I am a night owl, for one, so I think a lot clearer at night, my average bed time is about 2:30 am, and I find there are more agreeable television shows at night than there are in the day.

10. Would you want to become famous?

My dream career kind of goes along with this, but it's not so much that I want to be famous, it's like a side effect of the dream career coming true. Mostly I want to do so well at the job because I love acting a lot, and if I do well, then the fame sort of just comes with it. But to be famous, just to be famous? No. Not at all.

11. What do you like most about gaming?

If we're talking Sims, then I love the creativity that the game allows. I used to think I had lost my ability to be creative due to some personal factors, but Sims helped me realize that wasn't true in the slightest. If we're talking gaming console games, then I love the stress relief I can achieve by punching someone in the face or shooting them in between the eyes.

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Originally asked by livinasimminlife on Sandy's blog:

1. What made you want to write SimLit?

I thought, there sure are a lot of people writing stories, I wonder if I can do it too. So I tried it out, and had a few failures at first, but then eventually got success, and found my groove.

2. What's your favorite breakfast food?

Everything. Breakfast food is my absolute favorite kind of food. Bacon and eggs probably tie for first place as far as favorites go.

3. Who is your favorite SimLit character (of your own creation, modified EA-generated, or base game)?

Maximus, my founder for my legacy, is my favorite because he was the first character I wrote to be as realistic of a person as I could make him, with flaws, and things that he could learn from to become a better person. I really figured out how to write personalities by making one up for Maximus.

4. What's your favorite activity to do in the sun?

Clean my car, or just take care of it. I don't have a garage, so my car is always exposed to the elements. I have a huge pet peeve where I don't like it when my windows are dirty, so I often go outside when it's sunny and use glass cleaner on my windows. I also one time used this amazing wheel cleaner and my rims sparkled like diamonds, it was great. And yes, I am a nerd. Feel free to laugh.

5. If you were facing the apocalypse, which one of your Sims characters would you want with you and why?

Hmm... this is a wonderful question... that I don't have an answer to. LOL. Just kidding. I would pick Frances Belcourt, from my story Blink of an Eye, because he lives in a post-apocalyptic world at the moment, and he was a former police officer. So he has skills.

6. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Because it was a Russian chicken, and the vodka was on the other side of the road.

7. What's the silliest or weirdest thing your Sims have ever done in game?

Sometimes my Sims wish to either "move in" or "marry" their significant others, and it's silly and wierd because they already live with them, or are already married to them. So then I find myself asking if they suffer from memory loss.

8. Have you ever written a fictional version of a significant event in your life in any of your SimLit stories?

Yes, I have, except it has never been exactly the same as real life, it's always been partly from real life.

9. Name a character you love-to-hate (and this can be from any source - i.e. games, books, movies, etc.).

Dr. Gregory House from House M.D. I love how blunt he is when he cuts through the bullshit and gets down to the truth, without caring what other people think of him. I see a lot of myself in his character and I can relate to him.

10. Name three things (or people) that make you smile.

Christian Bale, acting, and cars.

11. If you could visit any fictional world, what would it be and why?

Gotham City, mainly because I love Batman. LOL.

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Originally asked by DandyLion240 on Sandy's blog:

1. What's your favorite color?

Black, with neon colors paired, or really bright colors by themselves.

2. Do you like to travel?

I think traveling is fun, but I don't do it often.

3. If you could go anywhere, where would it be?

Scotland. I want to see the castles.

4. How long have you been playing the sims?

I have been playing the Sims since winter of 2013.

5. What motivated you to start writing?

I saw some other Sims stories and thought, I wonder if I can write. Since I'd only written for school, I had never written about stuff I actually wanted to write about. I wanted to see what it was like to write about things I cared about, and it turns out it is awesome.

6. If you could meet anyone from the past, who would it be?

The Founding Fathers. I'd take them all with me to storm Washington DC, and bitch slap the shit out of all the politicians who are currently there.

7. What's your favorite song?

So Small by Carrie Underwood, it makes me realize things aren't that bad when I falsely believe that they are.

8. Day or Night?

Night. I'm a night owl, I think clearer at night, and most of the shows I like watching are on at night versus the day.

9. Do you plan out every detail of the stories you write or do you just let the story take you to unexpected places?

I do not plan out every detail of my stories. I tried doing that once, when I was trying to figure out my writing style, and I ended up getting stuck in a huge rut, and then having to stop the story with which I planned all the details for. I write chapter by chapter, with one general goal in mind, and that seems to work better for me.

10. Do you like to write in first or third person?

I like to write in first person. I can write in third as well, but I prefer first because I feel like it makes the story have more of an impact on my readers. I like to write to make people feel things, and I feel like when I write in first it does that to a deeper level than when I write in third.

11. If you could do anything right now, what would it be?

I would have a lot more movie experience under my belt and I would be a successful actor.

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