True Freedom

This story is by Dre’Vian Young and was part of our 2017 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the Spring Writing Contest stories here.

True Freedom

At a quick glance the shadowy figure approaching the low income apartment complex could easily be mistaken as that of a young girl, but it was Catherine, whose black spaghetti tank top and leggings exposed her stomach and revealed arms and legs no bigger than a small tree branch. Her 21-year-old face was covered with innocence but yet there was something off about her. She examined the scenery outside the apartments. The smell of cigarettes and whiskey danced in the air. Cars with flat tires and black plastic bags as windows filled most of the parking lot. The grass, which looked like it hadn’t been cut in year, ran across the sidewalk making it a hard path to follow. Catherine slowly tiptoed to the wooden, white door. The porch light flickered, signaling that it was due for replacement. She proceeded to knock on the door but became paralyzed by her own thoughts.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she thought to herself as she turned around to leave.

Suddenly she heard the cracking of the door opening.  

“Catherine?” Asked a mysterious voice.  

A man stood by the front door wearing a white tank top that looked like it had been used to clean restaurant tables.  He had on orange and brown plaid shorts with no shoes. His beard and hair covered most of his face.

“Yes,” answered Catherine with a soft voice.

“Okay good!” Troy said with excitement.  “Come on in. Your friend, Amber, told me you were coming.”

Catherine stood by the doorway motionless and confused.

“How could this guy help me?” She thought to herself.

“Come in,” Troy repeated. “You do want to get better, don’t ya?”

Catherine’s eyes shot up. Hesitantly, she lowered her head and walked into the apartment.

An unpleasant smell tackled Catherine’s nose as she entered the living room. A tan colored sewn up futon was placed in the center. Empty pizza boxes, soda cans and smelly laundry was strewn across the dusty, concrete floor. A 20-inch TV sat on top of a tray table. By it was stationed a large fish tank, which seem to be the only clean thing in the room.  Troy walked over to the fish tank.

“Please take a seat,” uttered Troy. “I would like to ask you a few questions.”

Troy sprinkled fish food into the tank before he walked over to Catherine.  

“Can I get you something to drink?” asked Troy.

Catherine shakes her head no. Troy sits down a few inches away from her.

“Are you familiar with what I do?” Troy asked.

Catherine shook her head no while never making eye contact.

“Well for one, I’m here to help you,” said Troy. He scooted closer to her.

“I hear that there are chains you’re wishing to be free from?”

Silence held Catherine’s mouth while she stared at the concrete floor.

“Please,” Troy begs, “allow me to help you.”

Catherine continued to stare at the floor.

“Yes,” Catherine said softly, “I want to be free.”

Troy’s eyes flickered with excitement. He then spoke.

“Many people try to gain true freedom by forcefully breaking loose from their chains, and as a result, they are left with many bruises. The easiest way to free yourself from shackles is to use the key.”

Eagerly, Troy pushed himself up from the futon.

“Follow me,” ordered Troy.

Catherine followed Troy into a back room. The walls were painted baby blue and a tall lamp stood next to a queen size bed covered with white sheets. Troy flipped on the power switch and the lamp light color gleamed bright red.

“I need you to lie down,” instructed Troy.  

Catherine did as she was told. She folded her arms over her chest and focused on the ceiling. Troy sat on a wooden stool beside her.

“Close your eyes.”

Catherine quickly glanced at him with uncertainty.

“Trust me,” Troy said gently.  

As Catherine closed her eyes, Troy began to speak.

“I know this may be very uncomfortable for you, but I need you to picture that night. Try to imagine everything in the most detailed manner.”

The sheets began to crumble in Catherine’s hands.

“Take a deep breath and imagine,” Troy said softly. “Imagine.”

Catherine’s head vigorously shook in fear.

“NO! NO! NO!” Catherine shrieked with a voice you would associate with a small preyed animal.

She quickly arose from her position. Her face drenched in hot sweat.

“I’m sorry,” said Catherine. “But I can’t go back to that night!”

She looked over at Troy, but he had vanished. She scanned the room and began to panic as she realized that she’s in a different room. Suddenly, the unfamiliar room became recognizable. It was her old childhood bedroom. There was a soft glow to the room brought on by a barrage of plastic ‘glow in the dark’ stars on top of the ceiling.  Colorful posters of unicorns decorated the pink walls of her room.  To Catherine’s left was a rectangular mirror hanging from the closet door. A white dresser with a hand painted rainbow served as her night stand. On top of it was her first place cheerleader trophy. Next to the trophy was a photo of her mother who had passed away 7 months ago. As Catherine stared at herself in the mirror, she realized that she looked like a 12-year-old in her all pink Hello Kitty pajama set. She let out a light giggle.  Catherine picked up the picture of her mother. A painful smile appeared across her face. She missed her mother deeply and being the spitting image of her only added to her pain. She pressed her lips against the picture and softly whispered the words.

“I love you, Mom.”

Knock! Knock! A vulgar bang radiated from her door. She hid under the blanket in fear, Boom! Boom! The hand knocks quickly converted into body slams.

“Didn’t I tell you not to lock any doors in this house?”  Shouted a raspy deep voice.

The voice belonged to Catherine’s father, James. James was an awfully large man. He was as wide as a dinner table and only stood a few inches away from having to bend down to enter any room in the house. He stood outside Catherine’s door holding a whiskey bottle. A necklace with a golden key dangled from his neck, hitting his bare chest. He would have been completely naked with the absence of his navy blue boxers. The alcohol sang songs from his lips while he struggled to keep his balance as he burst through the door.

“You would disobey me on your mother and my anniversary night!” 

James dropped the whiskey bottle and it shattered across the floor. He wobbled over to Catherine and snatched the sheets off of her. Terror covered Catherine.

“No! Stop! Dad!” She screamed. But her words fell upon deaf ears. 

She gathered up enough courage to give her father a powerful kick to the face. He howled in agony; blood gushed from his nose as he grabbed Catherine’s shoulders. She continued to fight and somehow wiggled herself partially free…Free enough to grab her trophy and strike him in the head. James fell to the carpet floor crying out in pain.  Catherine sprung up from the bed and dashed towards the door. Sadly, she steps on a piece of jagged glass in the process. The pain dropped her to the floor. She held up her bloody foot and saw the long, sharp piece of glass buried into her sole. In the distance, she watched her father rising from the carpet.  Catherine shuddered as she took a deep breath and pulled out the piece of glass. By now, James was up. Catherine struggled to stand. She began to limp…Soon that limp turned into a bumpy jog. Then, with the help of adrenaline, that jog became a full out sprint. Catherine exited the house. She continued to run looking for help. She ran and ran until, BAM!

Catherine arose from her childhood bed. She was back in her old room. Everything looked as though the prior events never happened.

“What the hell is going on?” she asked herself in confusion.

Knock! Knock! A vulgar bang radiates from her door. Catherine stares at the door, Boom! Boom!

“Didn’t I tell you not to lock any doors in this house?”  

James burst through the door.

“You would disobey me on your mother and my anniversary night!” 

James dropped the whiskey bottle and it shattered across the floor. He wobbled over to Catherine and snatched the sheets off of her. Catherine is covered with terror.

“No! Stop! Dad!” She screamed. 

She gave her father a powerful kick to the face. He howled in agony; blood dripped from his nose as he grabbed Catherine’s shoulders. She continued to fight and somehow wiggled herself partially free…Free enough to grab her trophy and strike him in the head.  James fell to the carpet floor crying out in pain.  Catherine sprung up from the bed, but this time she decides not to exit the room. Instead, she picked up the broken glass bottle and walked towards James. She held up the glass bottle and stabbed him repeatedly. Blood gushed out his neck and splashed onto her face. She continued to stab him until his agonizing screams were no longer. Until the smell of blood covered the stench of whiskey. Catherine dropped the bottle and scooted over to the closet door. There she rested her head against the door and closed her eyes. Again, she arose from her childhood bed. 

“Maybe my key to freedom is acceptance,” She thought to herself.

Knock! Knock! A vulgar bang radiated from her door. Boom! Boom!

“Didn’t I tell you not to lock any doors in this house?”  

James burst through the door.

“You would disobey me on your mother and my anniversary night!” 

He dropped the whiskey bottle and it shattered across the floor. He wobbled over to Catherine. Tears rolled from her eyes as she gazed upon her father. Since her mother’s death, a man she once respected and loved, was now someone she painfully hated.  Catherine did not resist as her father climbed on top of her. She tried to erase the smell of his breath by turning her head to the side. She closed her eyes, but opened them once she felt a cold metal key rubbing against her face.  As she focused on the key dangling around her father’s neck, she knew what she had to do. Catherine seized the key from James’s neck.  He became motionless. Cracks magically began to appear on his skin. Through those cracks shined a bright white light. Eventually those cracks consumed his entire body and he burst into a bright white light. Catherine looked around the room. Cracks soon begin to appear on the walls and the bedroom furniture; within a split second the whole room burst into a bright light. Gradually, that bright light dimmed into darkness. Catherine opened her eyes. She was back in Troy’s apartment.

“How do you feel?” Asked Troy.

“I feel…Free”, mumbled Catherine. “I can finally move on. I’m not sure what’s my next step. Do I forgive my father or do I turn him in? But I’m certain that he will not have power over my life regardless of which route I choose.”

Catherine rises from her lied down position and continue to speak.

“At first I didn’t fully grasp your meaning of true freedom but now it’s clear. True freedom can only be obtained once you remove the keys from venomous key holders.”

Catherine gradually gets out of the bed and exits the apartment. There is a satisfying smile on her face.