The Stolen Bride

Matthew's Punishment

Dear Diary, I had to ask Michael for a calendar, but I found out it was October 14, 2019. Can you believe I have been here over two weeks already? No? Neither can I. Any way, Diary, I wanted to tell you what happened today. I laid on the bed, my hands behind my head, my elbows sticking out. My legs sprawled out, and my head was facing the ceiling.

I closed my eyes. I hated closing my eyes most times because whenever I did, I saw my father. His military-cut blonde hair, lumberjack flannel shirt, and Marine Corps leather jacket. His toxic honey whiskey voice as he yelled at me. That thick cowhide he used along with his service pistol. But it was different tonight; tonight I needed him.

"You stupid, ungrateful bitch, do you know what I did to get you into that military school, and you have the nerve to go AWOL?"

"Dad, I'm sorry, I just don't like guns."

I still remember the smell. He had a sweet smell, my father, mixed with beer and Marlboro red cigarettes. He also smelled like that damn dog he always kept near him; the service dog.

"Get your ass in the corner," my father had said, and he hit me several times. When I wouldn't move, he knocked me to the floor.

"Daddy, stop, please. I'll go back to military school, sir; I just want to be with you, please."

My father had stopped God; that's it. That night, he had stopped beating me the moment I said it. I could still remember it, like yesterday.

My father had stood me up on my feet. His Texan twang made me melt as he said, "Damn right, you will, but I suppose a few days with your old man ain't gonna hurt none. Go to time out."

I stood there in the corner for five minutes with a gun to my head, but we watched a movie together afterward. Only time ever it felt like we were father and son.

The door closing drew my attention away from my father. Michael's lumberjack flannel was the first thing that stood out to me at first when he walked into the room. When in the hell did he change his clothes, and why?

Then I saw the cane. I didn't understand why not the belt, but the look on his face had me stand up right away, and I dropped my pants and underwear down and bent on the bed.

Michael screamed at me, demanding an apology. "How dare you cry to my father as if he was going to help you against his own son?"

The hits kept coming. "Please, I won't do it again. I know my place, master." I said, trying to copy Christy the second.

Michael hit me again.

"No, please, Michael." I said every part of me was screaming; stay alive. Stay alive. I thought about when my father came in drunk the night before I escaped my house and made the trip to come to Australia. I did my best to add emotion to my voice as I screamed, "I am an ungrateful-spoiled bitch, daddy; I'm sorry."

Michael stopped instantly. He chuckled a bit and said, "You are. You're right. Your domain is on the fourth floor, and until I tell you can, you better not step one foot out of this room. You better not let this happen again, hear me?"

I blank back tears as I said, "Yes, I hear you, Daddy Michael."

"Good boy, Maddie, get to bed; no supper."

I closed my eyes as I got into bed. Thank God I survived; it's me or them. I was surprised when Michael actually kissed my forehead and covered me with a blanket.

Michael straightened up and looked at his friends. "Peter, we have dinner with the hatchways at five. You and Joe leave your pets here. Joe, I need your help. Come to my room. I'll explain when I get there. Maddie, you better be fucking sleeping when I get back, you hear me?"

"Yes, Daddy Michael."

"Good because now you have to earn back two days."

"I will, I promise." I said, rolling on my stomach.

Michael left, leaving me alone. I went to sleep, but I wasn't really tired. I don't know when I woke up, but my stomach hurt and my back was bleeding. I went to the intercom pain with each step.

Christy the second looked at me but said nothing as she colored in the book Peter gave her.

The other girl played something on a handheld game she brought in with her.

I thought about how bored I was and pressed the button, but nothing happened. I pressed the button again, but nothing happened. I pressed the speak button and said, "Michael, can you come here, please? I need you." I really wish I would have just left the button alone.