Category Archives: violence

Monster VIII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/20/13

“AAAAHHH,” I screamed in pain as Footsteps dragged me to a standing position.

My friend, Syringe, hadn’t come to visit me in…well…long enough for me to be in pain for hours…days…weeks…
Ever since I had come to this dreaded dungeon of horror, standing had not happened. I hadn’t thought about my legs, never mind using them. As he held me upright, I realized my ankles were not the only things Syringe was nursing. There were constant darting pains in my back. I had expected pure waste to engulf my nakedness, but my vertical stance proved me wrong. At some point, someone had washed me.

Footsteps let go of me, which sent me crashing to the floor. My legs had forgotten their function. They had not had to support me since I came here. “UP!” he shouted at me. “UP!” with a quick snatch of my arm I was upright. I wobbled under the excruciating pain. “WALK!” he shouted at me again. His insanity was maddening. Although there was no longer swelling in my ankles, their obvious purple hue should have told their own story. “WALK!” He grabbed my wrists and pulled me towards him, forcing my wrenching first steps. “AAAAHHH!” I screamed with my second.

Maniacal appeared behind Footsteps, “There you go. You didn’t think we brought you here to rot away did you? You have to get those legs of yours nice and strong again. You have a lot of work to do. You were a bad girl and now you have to make right.”

He turned me around and tore something from my back. “Ah, your sores have healed nicely. How are those ribs of yours?” He came inches from my face, “You’re mine. Don’t get any ideas. I own you for the rest of your life. You do anything I don’t like, well, then you’re his,” he turned to a smiling Footsteps who placed his hand down his pants.

They left and I collapsed to the floor. I dragged myself to the wiry cot and I heard Hope again. “Hello. Hello. Is anyone there?” It was almost a whisper, but so crystal clear. “I know you’re here. I hear you cry out at night. Where are you?”

“I..I..I’m here. I just don’t know where here is. Or where your ‘here’ is. Who are you? I think I heard you say my name the last time. Do you know where we are?” I didn’t want to stop talking to Hope. I didn’t want Hope to leave me again.

“They’re coming. I hear them. Whatever you do, don’t tell them anything. They don’t know anything. Remember that. They know nothing. But we know everything.” Hope disappeared to the sound of Footsteps returning.

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Macy VII

By: Mia L. Hazlett

5/14/2012

Work was absolutely impossible.  Knowing I had a box full of my ancestry waiting at home made me appreciate the long weekend that was now upon me.  I had told my friends I was going away for the weekend, so I could have uninterrupted alone time with my grandmother.  Dead or not, this was the closest we had ever been.  I needed to hear her story.  I wanted to understand why she spent my lifetime showing her love for me through hate.

There was an inner conflict warring inside me at the same time.  Should I include my mother in unraveling the mystery of her mother?  We both knew who she was, but I guess in life it means a whole lot more to find out why people are the way they are.  But because I was only a few letters in, I decided to wait on sharing with my mother.  I felt a need to protect her, just as she had spent her life protecting me as best she could.  There was a part of me that felt as though my grandmother was apologizing to my mother through me.  She knew I told my mother everything,  Maybe she wrote these letters to my mother so I would tell her, rather than for her to have to read them by herself.  Because if my mother had received them, she would never share any of these with anyone.

I usually have my bottle of Riesling and a good book as I cozy under my sheets on a Friday night.  But wine didn’t compliment the mood to the #4 envelope that sat next to my pillow.  I opted for a cup of decaf coffee.

Well Macy,

Even dough Mz Suzana dun luvd me and Moma, we dun stoped wurkin’ fo her not to much aftr dat der lunch.  Sho was sad fo me and Mz Mary.  Sho was sad.  Wuznt jus bout money now and eatin.  It wuz jus hard to find good white folk to wurk fo bak den.  Moma didn’t want wurk fo nobody dat had manee boyz.  ‘Cuz aftr skool I wood come on and meet her at her job.  Even dough I wuz yung, she dun sed my bodee parts wur reel ladeelike. We dun had us good luk wit Mz Suzana, but not manee wite ladeez wuz like her.  Lots ov dem dun hated culurzds. Don’t reelee no how it wuz dat Mz Suzana culd say stuff to her son, cuz most timez da white women culd not say nuttin in her house.  So Moma wuz scurd a boy or da man in da house wood want to touch my bodee.  After wut Mz. Suzanaz boy dun did to me, I didnt never want no boy on top me like dat again.  

Moma dun found uz a house wit a reel mean ole ladee, but she wuz alwayz in her room.  Her dotter wuz sumpin reel nice Macy.  Sumpin reel nice.  I dun liked Mz. Bell reel good.  She pay Moma eight moneez a week Macy.  We ain’t dun never made dat type der money.  Mz. Suzana onlee pay Moma five moneez a week and gave us food and da clothes, but now Mz Bell do dat and mo moneez.  Mz Bell have hurself two sonz.  They wuz like da sun an da dark.  Now here me Macy.  HERE ME REEL GOOD.  I never dun looked any ov doze boyz in der faces or eyez, but they dun said I did.  

I dun walkd to go meet Moma one day after school.  Dats wut I wuz suppozed to do.  Meet moma at Mz Bells house.  I wood do a da sweepin dat needed to be dun.  When I dun got der I walked round da house to da back.  Now my clothez wuz still small cuz Mz Mary wuz much biger than me.  But I wuz a bit biger than Mz Bell.  Dats da clothez I wuz gettin.  Mz Bells old old clothz.  Mama sed to preciate all we got an wear dem if I wuz gonna be der.  Her shirt fit me reel tight cross my growin’ chest.  Moma sed my bodee parts wuz growin sumpin wild.  I wuz jus reel quiet when she wood talk like dat.  I dun come round dat house and Mz Bells bad son wuz sitin’ on a stump with a long twig in hiz hand.  He looked at me sumpin rong Macy.  He looked sumpin rong.  I jus went to da back door and der wuzn’t no way da door wood open.  He started laffin’ sumpin rong.  He told me wuzn’t no one home.  

I dun turned to walk down da path I had come round to, but he wuz in my way.  He got reel close like to me and sed he dun seen me lookin’ at him.  I told him I hadn’t been lookin’ at nobuddy.  He dun slapped me sumpin’ hard in my face for sassin him.  Dats wut he sed Macy, I dun sassed him.  He took dat twig and dun poked my chest.  He kept on pokin and tole me to take my shirt off.  I dun sed no.  I new wut he wuz gonna do.  But Macy wuznt no boy gonna be on top me like Mz Suzanas son gain.  Not never.  He dun push me and wit all my power, I dun push dat boy rite on back to the ground.  Den I dun run round dat house and he dun cot up wit me and grabbed and ripped my shirt clear off.  I didn’t have no things on under it, so chest wuz showin’.  Moma told me only my husband wuz suppoze to see me like dat.  But I didn’t care.  I kept runnin’.  

I felt him grab my sholeder and push me.  I don’t know wut hapend, cuz I woke up in Mz Bellz house in da back room on a cot.  My hed dun hurt sumpin’ awful and I wuz lookin’ at Mz Bellz mean moma.  I think she wuz happy wuzn’t dead cause she started prayin sumpin.  Mz Bell came runin on nex to her moma an den I saw Moma.  She was cryin’ wen she dun grabbed and hugged me sumpin tite.  It wuz a bit odd cuz Mz Bellz mean moma wuz bein reel nise to me and rubbin my hed. 

Afder dat der day, I wuznt loud to go round der no more.  Mz Bell dun taked cared ov uz reel nise, but hur moma wuz reel meen like.  She dun hated uz.  I never did see dat son ov herz again.  Sed he went to liv wit sum hiz momas people dat lived sumwhere in a difrent state.  To munts later, my Moma told me why.  She dun told me everything dat dun happend dat day wit Mz Bellz son.  Don’t member much bout da storee, but I new my bodee parts done got me to have a babee inside me.  Yes Macy.  Dat is why Mz Bellz son had to go far away.  He dun gave me a babee dat der day wen I dun hit me hed.

 

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Filed under betrayal, daughters, fear, Macy, man, mercy, pregnancy, racism, violence, woman

Taken VI

Taken IV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/29/11

I scrubbed my body, hoping to wash Mark and his lust away. He disappeared all day yesterday. There was actually joy when I eased myself between my sheets last night. Usually he didn’t come home for days. I prayed for a reprieve. Unfortunately, he returned home horny at close to three in the morning.

I turned the water off and stepped from the shower. My hair dripped as I lightly toweled off my bruised body. I breathed a bit easier, but I needed to take my mind off of me and stay hopeful for my Jessie’s return. Even though our fight destroyed the lamp on my nightstand, I was able to save my night stand picture of Jessie. I slept with the picture under my pillow every night.

Obviously there was nothing I could do, but this picture was the last piece of Jessie had, less her bedroom. For some reason, Mark had taken down all of her pictures. The first week, he worked relentlessly with the police. Now it seemed like he was over her. I couldn’t understand and that led to our disagreement the other night. Although I wanted my home plastered with her face, I couldn’t endure another thrashing. I curled back under my sheets and clung to my angel’s picture.

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Monster VI

Monster VI
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/28/11

Was I really in my bed? It didn’t seem real, but here I was. My room reflected order, but my memory obeyed a reality I struggled to comprehend. I remember darkness, crashing, and a deep relentless pain. Finally I swung my feet to the side of my bed and stood. The sun beamed through my white window sheers shining brightness on my new day.

Although I stood surrounded by perfection, a putrid odor wafted through the air. Each inhale strengthened the sickening feeling within me. I gagged and coughed. The cough buckled me and a searing pain engulfed my torso. As I held my stomach, I inched my way to the top of my stairwell. My blurry stare outlined a massive human silhouette. Even though I stared down my stairs, the figure loomed over me.

I released my torso and straightened my back. The looming figure seemed to be made of air as I grabbed for it to steady myself. With no contact made, I lost my balance and tumbled head over heels down the stairs. I writhed in excruciating pain, but still the looming figure remained over me.

I couldn’t tell if the touch came from it or me, but this time I could feel something near my feet. The more my eyes struggled to remain open and focus, the darker my surroundings became. It felt as though my feet were being lifted into the air, as the darkness encompassed me. I could see my stairwell, but with the diminished sunlight that had so recently illuminated my upstairs, I couldn’t see past the second step.

I tried to turn away from the stairs and onto my back, but with the reintroduction of the putrid odor, I released my stomach contents with a hurl. Now I was back in the small room. Instead of the floor, I was on a wiry raised cot. My legs were taped together on a slat of plywood, which did not allow me to turn my body. My stomach contents soaked my hair, and I realized the stench was me. I don’t think it was the first time I threw up, nor had I been afforded the opportunity to use a bathroom.

As the blurry figure came into focus, I remembered the sledgehammer. Immediately I tried to move my feet, but I couldn’t feel them. The man came closer to me with some sort of syringe in his hand. As the needle was merely inches from my arm, the door opened. The maniacal laugh sent me back to my sunny bedroom as the contents of the syringe emptied into my arm. I was home again.

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Monster IV

Monster IV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/16/11

I couldn’t say anything. Through the dim light and the small slit in my right eye, I saw a lean silhouette approaching me. I wasn’t sure if I turned my head towards her voice, but she was now whispering in my ear, “They’re going to kill us. I think I’ve been here for two or three days, I’m not sure. They got me on Sunday. Do you know what day it is?” I knew I had been brought down here with the dawning of a new day. If it was still the same day right now, then it was Friday. I went to bed Thursday night and they took me Thursday night. Today was Friday.

I don’t know if I told her it was Friday or was just thinking it, but our conversation or my thoughts were interrupted by steps outside of my small dungeon. The clang of the lock set Silhouette into an uncontrollable tremble. Her relentless grasp tortured my arm with a pain, but my mind transferred to that pain, rather than the aching of my ribs. I returned her tremble as the step with the light knock I heard at my house came into earshot, step, knock, step, knock… and then the maniacal laugh. She was right, they were going to kill us.

Silhouette screamed as they tore her from my side. I’m not sure if I reached out to hold her or if she had just not released her grip from my arm. I believed the latter, because she tore my sleeve and I now saw it dangling from her weak fist. She was thrown against the wall opposite me and all I could do was watch as Maniacal slammed his cane across her face. When I tried to turn away from her second blow, I was placed in a choke hold and made to watch as they beat her to death. She was right, they were going to kill us.

Maniacal crawled towards my face as it was thrown back to the ground. His low whisper terrorized more than his laugh, “You thought you could escape me? You thought I was going to never find you? I found you four years ago. How do you like that? I’ve been watching every little thing you do for the past four years. I could of taken you at 6:00 am in the parking lot at the park where you jog every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning. I helped you when you dropped your keys trying to get in your car after you bought your coffee and newspaper like you do every morning on the way to work. You let me come into your house and repair your air conditioner. I’ve been everywhere you go for the past four years. You can’t hide from me. I found you. I’ve got you. And just between you and me, you’re going to die here.” She was right, they were going to kill us.

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Monster III

Monster III
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/7/10

With the slightest bump, my head seemed to crash against the steel pillow in the trunk that now jailed me. Nothing I did would release my legs or arms from their bondage. The tape over my mouth was suffocating and I had to remind myself to breath through my nose. I had to shift off my side and the tire they had thrown me on. My broken ribs couldn’t take one more hit.

The car began to slow and I stifled all movement. Then came the laugh, that maniacal laugh. All movement ceased. Car doors slammed. The trunk opened. I was lifted and thrown to the ground. A dog came and sniffed me. He was called away. I was left on the dirt behind the car.

I’m not sure how long I remained on the ground. It was still night so I knew we hadn’t driven far from where I lived. I was thankful that I fell asleep, because that was the only thing that kept the pain away. When I woke, dawn was making its presence. The dog from before slept less than a foot away. I tried to inch my way onto my back. Any sudden movement would reintroduce me to my broken parts.

Before I turned completely over, there was a swift shattering kick to my back. The dog scurried under a truck as I was heaved into the air. My screams didn’t make it beyond my taped mouth, but I couldn’t take the hefty shoulder that was stabbing my fractured ribs. With a deep rooted evil, he made a quick jump up with each step.

The walk took us through the woods to a clearing, which held a shack of some sort. We entered and descended down a stairwell into the same darkness I had experienced at my house. I couldn’t focus beyond my pain, but there was an soft audible crying coming from the pitch blackness that surrounded us.

I was thrown onto a mattress and introduced to a dim light from the corner of the small space. My arms, legs, and mouth were set free. Within seconds the door shut and the locked turned. I protected my pain by staying in my fetal position. There was no where I could go, so I decided not to irritate my wounds.

There wasn’t much I could see from my position, but then there was that crying again. I wanted to answer it with comfort, but I couldn’t withstand another blow of any kind. I was not sure how close or far my captors were. My consciousness refused to remain consistent, so I lost track of time. Minutes, hours, or days could have passed without my knowledge. I just knew movement equalled pain, so I remained in my little ball.

Awoken again, this time to the sound of the lock being undone and the door opening. There was a scuffle of feet. I don’t know if I was dreaming or if my eyes were swollen shut, but now that faint crying was sharing my space.

The cry spoke to me, “Linda? Linda is that you?” Shit! They had her too.

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Monster II

Monster II
By: Mia L. Hazlett
8/12/10

I ran down the stairs with the expectation of a chase. I steadied myself against the wall near the front door. No chase. The blinding light and noise remained, but no chase. Pain riddled my body from head to toe. I tried to focus on my surroundings, but nothing seemed familiar. I just needed to open the front door to end this nightmare.

My legs wobbled as I reached for the doorknob. And then it was gone. The noise. The lights. They disappeared and the blackness returned. I grasped desperately to find the knob. Nothing. The knob didn’t move and the door didn’t open. My hands followed the wall until they came to a massive leather jacket. The same jacket that had just terrorized my bedroom.

Massive arms embraced me and I could only hear my breathing and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. Beyond the footsteps and my quick breaths, there was a faint knocking with each step. I tried to release myself from my captor, but all movements were stifled with a blow to my face. I was sure it was my tooth I swallowed. My feet dangled but I was sure I was moving as I floated towards a consistent tapping. The floating ceased and then there was laughter coming just inches in front of my face. That laugh. They had found me. After six years, that laugh had found me.

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Monster

Monster
By: Mia L. Hazlett

My bottom lip trembled as a bead of sweat slowly crawled down my terrified brow. The blackness that surrounded me would not give way to the noise that had stirred me only minutes before. I was too petrified to call out or even move. My alarm clock that usually sent its reddish glow across my nightstand let me know there was no power in my house. I tried to scan my bedroom for a glimpse of an outline of something familiar, but it was too late when I discovered my open door.

Suddenly as I muscled up the courage to scream, I was dangling in midair. There was a crushing vise squeezing my nose and mouth…then a piercing pain driving itself through my lower left side. I know I was screaming, but not even the hint of a whisper was heard in my pitch dark room. My legs kicked frantically to find some sort of footing, but they failed miserably to the massive strength that held me hostage.

The pain seared throughout my entire body as I crashed into my solid maple antique bureau. I landed on my back and gasped for a much needed breath of air. Before I could catch a full breath and gain any focus, the monster was on me again. I clawed wildly in hopes of letting it know I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I was useless against its power. My headboard stopped my hurling body. As my face tried to recover from the crushing impact, a grip handcuffed my ankles and pulled me violently to the floor. My head hammered the floor and drove my tooth through my bottom lip.

But as suddenly and violently as it had begun, it was over. I heard the retreating footsteps down the stairs, and lay motionless on my bedroom floor. I wasn’t sure if it was my front or back door, but I heard the familiar slamming sound. Before I could move, I was blinded by light and a blaring cacophony of noise, as all my radios and stereo blasted at full volume throughout my house.

My broken bloodied body brought itself to its knees. I knew with the loud music, someone must have called the police by now. But whatever had just happened, it was over now. I had lived through a malicious nightmare. I slowly eased myself off of my knees and faced my mirror. I screamed in terror at the smiling face behind me. One monster was still here.

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