Silencing Joy

Smashwords
Edition

~Crushing pain is the only way to describe it. It’s
as if a car was dropped on your chest. The ripping and tearing of
your organs is only the beginning as the pressure of the weight
consumes you. Tidal waves of horror, despair, and loneliness bury
themselves in your heart and brain like sand crabs. The retched
stickiness of tape oozes in between your lips. Realization that you
are going to die if you are not freed claws its way up your
stomach. Then pins and needles start. It’s that state before
numbness. Hands and feet bound. The numbness comes as a breath of
fresh air. Not being able to feel is multitudes better than this.
The only coherent thought left... Daddy, where are you?

Derek and Kara:

The sun was setting and they both knew that it was
time to go back...back to their lives without each other. The
football game was tonight. Just thinking about what he had to do
made bile rise to the back of his throat. Tommy and his gang would
be waiting for him.

No one could know.

No one could see them.

Kara's father would kill Derek if he ever caught them
together. Derek would never understand why a father would send
their daughter to a school when he knew sicko drug dealers were
there. Derek never planned on falling for Kara. It wasn't in the
mission. He was supposed to be focused on his job.

Joy:

The excited fever that came off in waves at a
high school football game was addicting. Even though I hadn’t been
in high school for two years, I still felt it when I came to the
games to take pictures of the new stars of the Pittsfield High
team. Being a photography student at the Rhode Island School of
Design (RISD), I was hired to photograph high school sports at
Pittsfield. It didn’t pay well, but it was something.

The night’s game was against the Pittsfield
rival team, Meriden High. I had positioned myself under the left
side bleachers for the best action shots. I liked to stay out of
the line of sight of the players and spectators and could get
pretty creative to find the most obscure and intense angles. Tree
and rock climbing were among my favorites, but that night it was
bleacher crouching!

From my spot, I zoomed in and got some great
close-ups of the quarterback and the coach in a yelling match with
a ref. The cheers were deafening from where I sat huddled on the
cold ground. The only light was coming from the blinding night
field lights. October games could get pretty chilly. My fingerless
gloves were good for nothing because what really got cold were my
fingers, not my palms.

I moved my camera in a fluid motion with numb
fingers and caught a group of guys who looked like they’d be more
comfortable in a gang fight than at a high school football game.
Bandanas, tattoos, and low-hip jeans adorned them. They appeared to
be scanning the crowd, not paying too much attention to the
game.

I zoomed and saw one of the dark-haired ones
had a tattoo on his neck.
Ouch!
I snapped some more
close-ups. Zooming, it looked like a cupcake with a birthday candle
in it.
Wait, no, that can’t be right.
More twisting and
zooming, and I could finally see the tattoo clearly...a skull with
an axe wedged in the top of it.
Yikes! That kid was definitely
not running for class president.

I took in the other three guys. One was
definitely cute in that bad boy way, although he didn’t carry
himself like the others. Mr. Cute had sandy brown hair, was tall,
and was all leathered up like he rode a motorcycle.
Typical!
I weaved the lenses to get an eye color...nice, liquid blue. I
lowered my camera and sighed.

The spectator’s fervor escalated, and I once
again focused my camera on the action. With the other side of the
field’s bleachers as a backdrop, I captured the highlights of the
game. The crowd took on a personality of its own, and my camera
continually clicked pictures with slight presses of my finger on
the shutter button.

The game was in its final two minutes, and
the Pittsfield quarterback sent the ball flying toward the end
zone. The crowd flew into frenzy as the tight end ran the ball in
for a touchdown. It was a remarkable play...now captured forever
with my camera.

I kept snapping pictures as the crowd
celebrated and disappeared to the parking lot to head to whatever
after party they had planned. I took my time, letting the crowds
disperse. I don’t like crowds.

I felt around in the darkness to gather my
stuff. The zipper on my camera bag was jammed.
Damn it!
I
tugged and pulled, determined to fix it.

Come on, Joy!
I chastised myself,
fiddling with it. My camera was my meal ticket, and I didn’t like
it when it wasn’t snuggled in its holder. I pulled, tugged, and
swore some more under my breath.

I finally freed the zipper.
Yay!
I let
out a whoosh of relief.

My head shot up as I heard voices coming
closer. I strained to listen as sounds of someone struggling crept
towards me. I craned my neck to peer over to the other end of the
bleachers I was under. The tattoo kids I saw earlier were dragging
someone. They pulled him under the bleachers. My breath hitched,
and I held it.

They were talking roughly, their voices
gravely, and I listened to them. My eyes went wide when I heard
them yelling at the guy they yanked under the bleachers. It was
very hard to see, but I heard a kick...then another. Fists hitting
bone, again and again.

I clutched my mouth to keep from screaming.
The shadow continued to move and bellow, as grunts and threats
permeated the air. The boys were yelling something about money.
Panic built with every second that went by.

What do I do? Should I run? Will they hear
me?

I had to get help. I shuffled around in my
bag for my cell phone as quietly as I could, never taking my eyes
away from the scene.

“Stop. Wait,” one of them said
forebodingly.

I thought that one of them had come to their
senses before killing the poor guy...but no. He was looking in my
direction.

“Did you hear that? What’s over there?” He
pointed right at me.

I screamed. I couldn’t help it. I jumped up,
whacking my head on the bottom of a bleacher. My hand flew
immediately to the lump forming, and I started running while bent
in half. I tried to get out.

I didn’t.

Suddenly, my hair was yanked back. I shrieked
as my hands automatically went to the back of my head at the site
of the pain. My heart raced in terror. I bent backwards from the
yank and then fell to my knees.

“Who are you, bitch?” my assailant huffed
into my ear. I felt his cheek against mine as he whispered to
me.

The field lights went off with a loud click.
It was dark before, now it was pitch black except for a tiny little
light coming from the parking lot.

“Tommy! What’s going on? Who’s that?” I heard
one of them call out.

The beaten guy moaned, and I heard the
shuffle of footsteps on dirt come closer as more guys moved towards
me and...
Tommy
.

“I don’t know, guys. Maybe this bitch was
fooling around with her boyfriend under here, and he left her,” he
hissed in my ear. “Or maybe she’s a hot stalker who was following
me. Hmmm...Honey? What is it?” he said and pulled my hair harder,
snaking his arm around my waist.

I couldn’t talk. I cried and struggled,
trying to get out of his grasp. It was such an awkward position to
be in, crouched on my knees on the ground under the bleachers with
this guy’s hand wrapped in my hair.

He wouldn’t let go. His breath continued to
trail by my ear and on the side of my face. His hand on my waist
moved up slowly, not releasing any pressure. He groped me hard.

“Oh! Dude, not cool,” Mr. Cute yelled.

“What’s the matter, Derek? You don’t have the
stomach for this? You didn’t have a problem beating the shit out of
that loser,” Tommy said as he tossed his head in the direction of
the beaten kid.

“Fuckin’ up loser drug addicts that don’t pay
is one thing. Fuckin’ with girls who are traceable is another,”
Derek said as he moved closer to Tommy and me.

“So what do we do with her?” one of the other
guys asked, looking around trying to see out into the darkness.

Derek stole glimpses in the direction of the
kid they beat up. I stopped thrashing to take in my
surroundings.

“I don’t know,” Tommy said in my ear. “What
do you think, chick?”

I cringed at his words as his breath
feathered over the sensitive skin of my neck and ear. Tommy
motioned with his head to Derek, and he grabbed my breast so hard
that I let out a yelp.

“Derek doesn’t think you’re worth doing, but
I think you’re hot. You’d bring a good price.”

I tried to turn my head away and saw Derek
take a step, as though he was going to go after Tommy but thought
better of it. It was so subtle that I didn’t think anyone else
noticed it.

“Look Tommy, let her go and let’s get the
hell out of here before someone hears her screaming. I can’t get
arrested again. My old man will put me away for good,” Derek spit
out, looking around to the other guys for affirmation.

“Yeah, Tommy, let the fuckin’ bitch go so we
can get the hell out of here,” the nervous one said.

Tommy made no move to lessen his grip as they
went back and forth deciding what to do.

“No way, man. She’ll see us at school. We
have to take care of her.”

“Are you shitting me? What, man, are you
crazy!? She doesn’t go to school here. I would’ve noticed her
before,” Derek shouted, disgusted with Tommy.

“Yeah, Derek is right, Tom. I would’ve
noticed her, too,” said the nervous guy. “Taking girls from here is
a bad fucking move. Now, let’s go!”

Tommy shoved me so hard away from him that I
face planted a good four or five feet away. My jaw and neck jolted
with a burn and hurt I had never experienced before. I was stunned.
My cheek rested against the frigid earth.

“Don’t get up, bitch! If you go to the
police, I’ll find you and kill you.” Tommy looked over to his
friends. “Hey, find her cell phone and take it.”

I moved my hands to cover my face as I lay
still, face down in the dirt. I heard them all rummaging around in
my camera bag.

“Here it is,” Derek said as he handed it to
Tommy. Someone kicked my camera bag like a football, and it landed
with a thud. A whimper escaped me. The click of a lighter sparked a
cigarette to life.

“Come on,” nervous guy said. “Hey, where’s
Brian?”

“He had some shit he had to do for me...”
Tommy’s callous voice trailed off into the dark of night as they
slowly walked away.

Kara:

Kara never usually comes to the football games, but
she heard Derek talking to one of his friends about coming here.
She just wanted to see him. Even if they can’t speak, being away
from him is hard for her. Some days, they go long periods of time
without speaking at all or seeing each other. Kara finds it painful
and hard to bear.

Kara stands at the bottom of the bleachers of the
visiting team. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Derek. He is
walking through the risers with a vicious group of guys. They’re
reputations are frightening. The rumors and gossip plague the
school. They are common thugs and bullies.

She looks away quickly, not wanting to catch the eye
of any of them.

Derek’s handsome face frowns. He sees her.

Tommy’s gang shoves people and aggravates the
visiting spectators. They’re assholes! Together, they jump down and
walk along the edge of the field. They belong in a prison
yard...except for her Derek. He is the best thing that has ever
happened to her.

With her mother passing at an early age and her
father’s blatant neglect for her, Kara’s life has been empty and
sorrowful. Derek had opened her eyes to the beauty of friendship
and love. His presence overshadows loneliness and despair. Some
days, he is all she can think about, and those days are sweeter
above all others. The days that they are together are pure
bliss.