"You're fucking worthless boy," the voice shouted.
The boy anticipated the sting of the belt before the sound of it could be heard, whistling through the air.
Raising its arm, the voice repeatedly brought the leather strap down onto the back of the young child.
Huddled into a corner of the room, the boy couldn't get away from the lashes. Screaming didn't help; it just made the pain worse, gave the voice satisfaction.
"Shoulda known you'd be trouble. Nothin' but trouble, you are." The voice took a break, taking a drink out of a bottle of whiskey before turning back to the child.
Standing in the door frame, Jake couldn't move. He could only stand there and watch; horrified.
Helpless to stop the beating, he felt the familiar bile rise up in his throat. Hard as he tried, he could never get the man to stop.
"Teach ya, boy," the voice slurred. "Teach ya to disrespect your father."
Hearing the child cry out against his will made Jake want to cover his ears; but he couldn't. It was as though he was frozen, unable to move.
Then the scene changed. He was walking down the street towards Daisy, his light. She was smiling and her arms were open, walking to him. Looking at her, he waited; he always seemed to be waiting for Daisy.
Suddenly, her eyes shifted from his and her smiled broadened, grew wider, happier.
Running past him, she never even gave him a second glance. Turning, Jake looked to see where she went and wished he hadn't.
Daisy ran into the waiting arms of
Derrick Gowan
.
"What the fuck?" Jake couldn't believe his eyes. Daisy was letting Goofy Gowan hold her, touch her. "Why Daisy?"he whispered desperately.
Turning to look at him, Daisy's smile became patronizing. Innocently, she asked, as if greatly amused, "You didn't think I would choose you? Did you, Jake?" Taking a moment to look into his dazed eyes, she started to giggle. "Oh my, you did." Laughing almost uncontrollably, she looked at him with tears of laughter in her eyes, "Jake, honey, I would never pick you. What could you ever give me?"
Laughing, she turned her back on him. Taking Gowan's hand, she strolled with him down the street, away from Jake.
"Wait. Daisy, please don't go. Please, Daisy," yelled a frantic Jake.
Running after her was useless; no matter how fast or how long, he would never catch her.
Jake was alone.
"NO. Daisy," yelled Jake as he came to.
Every night was like this. It was always like this: the same gruesome, reoccurring nightmare from his childhood. Repeated every night, like a broken, undying record.
Try as he might, Jake couldn't shake the dreams.
But he was used to them. It was the new ones of him losing Daisy that made it hard to sleep. Jake had to act quickly. Tie her to him so tightly so that she could never untangle herself. Never leave him alone, in the dark.
He needed her. Now.
"Daisy," he whispered to the dark, "I hope you're ready."
********************
She was walking down her high school hallway.
Braces, pony tail and unfashionable clothing. Daisy was worse than an ugly duckling.
Smiling at kids that she knew, with a mouth full of metal, Daisy looked up to suddenly see
him
.
Jake McKean was leaning against
her
locker! He had his back to her, but she would know that backside anywhere. That perfect, strong back and those powerful legs encased in form-fitting denim could only belong to Jake.
He was waiting for her at her locker, she thought. But it wasn't the same as for her. She was always waiting for, would always wait for Jake McKean.
"Hi, Jake," squeaked a high-pitched, 15 year-old Daisy.
He turned around, slowly.
With a sardonic, half-smile that really only looked like a twist of his lips, he boredly drawled, "Well, if it isn't the passably pretty mouse. Why do you persist in talking to me? Take a hint, Mouse; I ignore you for a reason."
Stuttering an apology, Daisy's heart was torn in two when he grabbed Betty Bloomsburg and started to lock lips with the tramp right in front of her.
Kissing and touching the big, blonde bimbo, he dragged his mouth away long enough to taunt, "I like real women. Not mousy ones that couldn't please a man if they tried." Seeing the pain in Daisy's eyes seemed to make him smile.
Laughing, he wrapped his arm around Betty's shoulder and walked with the buxom blonde down the hall. Never taking a second glance at Daisy.
"Wait. Jake, please don't go. Please, Jake," yelled a frantic Daisy.
Running after him was useless; no matter how fast or how long, she would never catch him.
Daisy was alone.
"NO. Jake," yelled Daisy as she came to.
Every night was like this. It was always like this: the same reoccurring nightmare since high school. Repeated every night, like a broken, undying record.
Try as she might, Daisy couldn't shake the dreams.
But she was used to them. It was brutal losing Jake every night. And it was a different scenario every night. Daisy lost him in so many different ways, to so many different women. It made it hard to sleep.