When the Heart Falls

"I'm good, thanks."

My brain buzzes with worst-case scenarios as I keep checking my phone.

The waitress comes back at 10:30. "Is your friend still coming?"

"I don't know." I check my phone again. No voicemails. No text replies to the dozens I’ve sent. Something is wrong. I reach for my bag and stand. "I'm sorry. But I have to go."

She must be at Duke’s. She said she doesn’t always check her phone while there. They probably got stoned and lost track of time, which irritates me, but I resolve not to be too hard on her today. I scroll through old text messages, looking for the one with Duke’s address, and hail a cab to get there.

This is my first time here, and I’m not impressed. It’s a small house, old, buried behind a falling apart fence with garbage scattered all over the lawn.

There are birds chirping in the trees, but it's not a pretty song they sing.

This place feels evil, and I have no idea how Jenifer can stand being here.

I hear yelling as soon as I get to the porch, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. Still, my heart pumps faster, adrenaline coursing through me as my body recognizes danger that my mind hasn’t figured out yet.

I knock on the door. "Jenifer!"

The yelling continues.

"Duke?"

Nothing.

My knuckles are raw from knocking, so I try the door and it pushes open. I take a step in, feeling like a girl in a horror movie. The kind of girl I usually scream at to get the hell out of there and don’t be such a moron.

Their screaming fills the house with vile words. "You stupid bitch! I told you I had people over. These people are my business."

Jenifer’s voice is softer, quivering. "I'm sorry."

I follow the sounds upstairs, kicking aside empty beer cans and gagging at the smell of old bong water and piss and alcohol.

Second door to the left, I hear Jenifer crying.

I open the door and see my best friend on her knees, tears streaming down her face, Duke standing over her, his hands in fists. "Stupid cunt. Why you make me angry? You know I hate that shit."

Jenifer looks up at him, desperation on her bruised face. "I'm sorry. You're right. You were working. I shouldn't have interrupted. I'm sorry, baby."

Duke spits in her face as he speaks. "Sorry? You think that enough bitch? You think when my Papa beat me that was enough?"

"No.” Snot runs down her face, mingling with the tears. She’s covered in new bruises, on her face, her arms and legs.

"Fucking bitch." Duke kicks her with steel tipped boots.

I step into the room, my heart pounding, the old fear paralyzing me, my stomach turning to acid as I watch this abuse right in front of me.

Jenifer looks up. "Winter?"

Duke shifts his attention to me. "What the fuck? What you doing here?"

My fear snaps, turning to rage. How dare he? Fuck him. Fuck this shit. "Leave her alone!"

"This is my house.” He sneers at me, his pupils dilated from drugs. "I do what I want."

"Jenifer, go downstairs. Call the cops."

Jenifer starts getting up, but Duke grabs her by the hair and throws her down. "Nobody call the cops.” He turns to Jenifer. "You'd call the cops on me, you dirty cunt?"

"No.” Jenifer’s sobbing as she looks at me. "Just go. Please. I'll be fine. Just go."

"You heard her.” Duke points out the door. "Get the fuck out!"

"Don't swear at her!" Jenifer’s face hardens, her stubbornness returning.

"You think you can tell me what to do? Nobody tells me what to do." He grabs her by the neck. Starts choking her.

I move without thinking, running on instinct and rage as I reach for a lamp.

And smash it into Duke’s head.

He collapses to his knees, touches his scalp and pulls away a bloody hand. "You're fucking dead.”

I want to say something snarky, but my mind is blank.

Then Duke backhands me.

Pain explodes in my cheekbone, and I fall back against the wall.

He steps closer, closer. I can smell him, and he becomes Rodney, and I can’t breathe and everything hurts.

"Don't you fucking touch her," says Jenifer. She's up, fuming, the lamp in her hands now.

Duke turns around. "Or what?"

Jenifer freezes.

He laughs, because we are weak, both of us. We freeze when we should fight, allow abuse when we should stop it. He kicks me with those boots and pain breaks me in half.

I crumble to the ground, clutching my stomach, hoping he didn’t injure something critical in me. It feels like an iron rod is stuck between my ribs. It feels like I’m dying.

Duke steps on my arm, grinding it into the floor.

He smirks.

And Jenifer crushes his head with the lamp.

He falls down, all the way down. She hits him again. And again.

I reach for her. "Jenifer, stop.”

"I want him dead.” Her body is beaten, but she’s not, she fights, angry, hurt.

"I know.” I want Rodney dead too.