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Freedom

Christine Barba

    I embrace positive quotes; this fact is the last thing you would expect of someone like me. Someone who wakes up each morning to metal bars encircling my cage – bars to conquer the animal within. Someone who fashionably wears the same orange jumpsuit with the skid mark on the left leg each day. Someone whose current idea of fun is the half hour of fresh air allowed to me when I’m welcomed by black pavement and another large cage hugging the pavement. A girl who never expected to find herself here.
    And yet being free physically and being free in your mind are two different things. While I’ve suffered from a lot of pain, my mind is what keeps me alive. Someday, I hope that my daughter will read these pages so that she will never look at me with disappointment or worse, disgust, but with admiration and love – two things I never had for a very long time.
    I missed my mother. I missed how we used to sit in front of her large white mirror, as she’d smile down at me brushing my tangle of light brown curls. How she’d whisper “good morning green eyes.” She had always loved my bright green eyes.
    My father had passed away before I was born, and so I never got to know the man who truly created the other half of me. But from my mother I had always heard great things about him. My mother remarried when I was six years old and there were two things I’ve always felt about Roy since the day I met him; he would never be my father and even from childhood I had detected a trait that surrounded him which really turned me off; I know now it was phoniness. But Roy had swooned my mother and I was too young to voice my opinion. He was kind to me in her presence, but whenever she was gone he was terrible. Often I would have to hear, “Can’t you ever give your mother and I any alone time?” And “If it wasn’t for you I’d have your mother all to myself.” After my mother married Roy, I would often curl up in my tiny bed with the pink flower comforter and cry my little heart away to nothing.
    While I loved my mother with most of my heart (my real father composed the other parts), I always wondered why she would marry a man that treated me so badly. And while I admired her, I saw she too was blind, or at least liked to pretend.
    But when I turned eleven my heart broke again and I lost the only person in my small family who treated me kindly. My mother, in a rare occasion that surprised doctors, had a heart attack at the age of forty. They couldn’t resuscitate her and I lost my true best friend in the world. And, I was left with Roy, or I should say, Roy was left with me.
    The next seven years were the worst in my life. I wondered what mirror I had broken to receive such bad luck. I became Roy’s slave and when I wasn’t going to school, I would have to mow the lawn, clean out the attic, paint the house, cook and bring him food on a tray, and clean his shoes. If this sounds a bit like Cinderella, it’s because I became Cinderella. Maybe Roy watched that movie one too many times in his neglected youth. Most people would wonder why I didn’t rebel, call someone for help, especially as I escalated in years. But, he threatened me with horrible things. And the worst part was I knew he wasn’t kidding.
    When I entered high school I began to rebel more and more. But often I found it wasn’t worth it for the punishments were much worse. Yet during my senior year, when I turned eighteen, nearly everything changed. I had always had friends at school, but always only saw them during the school day. Finally, when I was invited to a guy Josh’s party whom I really liked, I decided I was going. My friend Lisa would be giving me a ride, and I had to hear from everyone,
    “Julie, you can’t hide in your house forever. I don’t care how strict your dad is.” “Step dad,” I would always correct.
    After school instead of venturing home like I normally did to do some homework, study a little, then begin cooking Roy’s dinner, I went straight from school in the company of some friends and to Lisa’s house. Since I told her I couldn’t risk going back home to retrieve the small amount of clothes I owned, she was letting me borrow her own clothes for the party.
    Around five, after we had been primping for two hours I looked at myself in the large mirror that surrounded her walk in closet. I was taken aback by how different I looked. Roy never gave me money to buy makeup or things like hair straightners or even nice clothes. Lisa had straightened the tangles and curls out of my long, light brown hair. She had outlined my bright green eyes with black eye liner and made my eyes sparkle with the black mascara she used to lengthen my eyelashes. A little blush covered my cheeks and she had used lip-gloss as well.
    Tonight, I decided, I would not be plain Julie with the abusive stepfather; I would be someone else. What really surprised me however, was my new outfit. At first I was a little skeptical; I had never worn anything like this before. But Lisa and my other friends assured me they had never seen someone look so beautiful as I did that night. I stared at myself and the tight black, tube top dress with sequins down the left side, and a slit up the left leg, that concealed my usual plain Julie appearance. I stared at the black stilettos that I would need to practice walking in. I thought about the baggy clothes that were the only thing Roy approved me wearing when I came home from school and his sick enjoyment out of continuing to treat me like a seven year old. And I determined, tonight was going to be the first time in my life that I would have fun.
    After a delicious dinner at Lisa’s of steak, mashed potatoes, corn and salad (a change from the PB&J Roy allowed me each night), we primped ourselves one last time and headed out for Josh’s party.
    “You’re going to be the hit of the party tonight,” Lisa encouraged. I was skeptical. Finally we arrived at Josh’s beautiful, white mansion and knocked on the enormous wood door. I knew his parents were away on a trip together and so the party would most likely be pretty crazy. This was underestimating; the party was already off the walls. As a random kid with two beers in each hand and a propeller hat on opened the door, we were surrounded by hundreds of students our age, drinking and laughing, and loud music blasting throughout the house. People were jumping on couches, sliding down the banister and running around upstairs and downstairs. Frantically, I looked around for Josh; I really wanted him to see me, dressed like this, and more importantly, at a party.
    I had never drank before and I knew that if I did and I came home drunk, Roy would be even angrier than me not coming home from school. I didn’t have a cell phone so there was no way he could reach me, and I concluded that this was no fault but Roy’s own. Lisa persuaded me to have a mixed drink, Kool-Aid, and some form of alcohol she referred to as Ever clear. At first, I was hesitant but she when she reminded me how I said I would have fun tonight and how I wanted to show Josh my fun side, I gave in. After the first drink, I definitely felt more relaxed and silly. I was enjoying this sensation and Lisa patted me on the back as I went and got another drink. I still hadn’t found Josh, but with this magical drink, when I did I’d be ready. By the second drink, I was definitely drunk. I was aware of everything that was going on, but couldn’t stop laughing, and dancing promiscuously with my friends and a few boys that came up to me. One boy I was dancing with encouraged me to go get another drink, so I followed him thinking, “what’s the harm in one more drink?”
    “Oh my God, Julie’s on her third drink,” I heard my friends laughing. “She’s going to feel this one tomorrow,” another friend joked. I just laughed along because at the time, I found these jokes the funniest things in the world. I continued dancing with this boy while sipping my drink and by this point everything was becoming very fuzzy. I was very drunk. But, finally when Scott approached me, drink in hand, I found what I was looking for. Pushing the other boy away, I walked towards Josh, walking towards me.
    “Julie, you look beautiful,” he said. Even in my state, I could tell he had had a few drinks as well. “Thanks, you look beautiful too,” I remember saying. “Well, gee thanks,” he laughed. He grabbed me and we began dancing, me grinding up and down against him like my friends had shown me. He began kissing my neck and I was ecstatic. Finally, he reached around and kissed me and we began making out, the first time I had ever kissed a boy. I heard someone yell, “Look at Julie and Josh!” But then everyone turned into a blob again. “Want to go upstairs to my room?” he whispered in my ear. Somehow, I found myself nodding.
    He held my hand as I stumbled up his giant staircase, in which over thirty people were congregated, along with more upstairs. When he opened the door to what I assumed to be his room there was a couple hooking up on his bed and shockingly, a group of people in the room at the same time talking and laughing. “Everybody get out of my room,” Josh yelled. “You can continue that in any other of the twenty rooms in this house, but I want mine back!” It took him awhile, but eventually he got everyone out and it was just he and I. He closed the door and locked it. Still standing, he began kissing my neck and then me again. I remember giggling and kissing him back. Then what I thought to be my dream came true; he carried me over to his bed, laid me down and climbed on top of me.
    We continued to kiss and he began undoing the zipper to my dress, slowly letting it drop so that my bra showed. I had refused at first for I was scared but I was drunk and with a little prodding he achieved his goal. He began kissing my bra, then my boobs, and slowly began undoing the hook to my bra. I was reluctant and afraid but something inside of me told me this was the most fun I would have in a long time, the most fun I ever had, and to let this go would be silly. He took his own shirt off, and then his shorts so that he was only in his boxers. By this point I was very nervous and wanted to tell him that this was going too far. But as he continued kissing me, something told me I would never receive this much affection again. Sad, at the time, but true. He began to pull my dress down entirely so I would only be left in my underwear. “No,” I whispered. He continued trying. “Please, Josh, no not yet,” I remember pleading. But he continued anyway, and I was afraid he’d leave if I complained so I let him. When he began touching me there, it was like nothing I had ever felt before. I wanted to kiss him one thousand times, do anything for him, if he could make me feel like this.
    As he began taking off his boxers I was horrified. “Josh, no this is too far,” I told him. “But why?” he whispered. “I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you; now I know that you’re beautiful inside and out,” he continued. I let him take off his pants. This is as far as we will go, I told myself as he rubbed up against me. Pressing me down with his body weight, he held me down and tried taking off my underwear. “No,” I said clearly. “But you’re so beautiful,” he said. “Josh, no this is too far, I’m done,” I said. “But what if I’m not done with you?” he said. As I struggled underneath him he took off my underwear. I began to cry. “Please, Josh, no, I don’t want to do this,” I begged. Looking frustrated he stared at me. “Okay, how about I pour us another drink? He asked. “I have some of the stuff in my closet over there and we can just finish off the night lying here and cuddling with our last drinks.” He smiled at me. “How’s that sound?” Finally, he was being the sweet Josh I knew again. Lying in his bed and cuddling with him sounded like heaven.
    After I finished my forth drink everything felt fuzzy. I don’t remember much except silently sobbing, trying to push Josh off of me but being so weak I was unable to do so. My arms felt heavy, as did my entire body. Had I been drugged? And I remember him inside of me, and me being able to do nothing about it.
    The next day, I woke up entirely disoriented. I was lying on my friend Lisa’s bed, next to a snoring Lisa, in a pair of pajamas. Shifting slightly, I must have woken Lisa up. “Thank God, my mother was asleep when Tiffany got us home. If she saw you in the state you were in, she would have killed me! And luckily, she works Saturdays and left before we woke up because I’m sure you are completely hung over.” Everything was still fuzzy, my head was killing me and I had forgotten last night’s events. “Thank goodness Josh was nice enough to have brought you back downstairs. He told us he found you basically slumped over in the corner of his room smiling, too intoxicated to even recognize him.” Then I remembered, Josh. He had raped me. He had deliberately lied to my friends and most likely drugged me to the point I was too lethargic to consent or not consent to anything. Tears welled up in my eyes.
    “It’s okay,” Lisa continued. “I’m just glad you finally had fun, though I’m sure you’ll be feeling the effects today, and evil Roy might murder you before I can ever see you again. But I won’t let you.”
    I felt sick but the last place I could go was home. When I finally did return home, my heart felt sick, my stomach had an enormous lump and my legs shook. When I walked in the door Roy slapped me across the face. I knew he hadn’t called the police; he’d be too afraid of what I would tell them. Instead he stormed, “I don’t care where you were. For the next five days you will be attached to this leash I bought.” I looked in horror at a dog leash he held in his hands. “If you disobey, I will tell horrible lies about you, maybe even kill you. You will be tied to this in your room every until it’s time to do your chores, which will be quadrupled for nearly eternity.” I threw up on his carpet and he slapped me again.
    For the next month, I began feeling sick every morning and it wasn’t because of the lack of food Roy gave me. He had always done this. My friends at school began avoiding me because I refused to look Josh in the eye and he told them he realized I was attractive, but a real weirdo. His friends backed him up. After not getting my period for nearly two months I began to panic and felt even sicker. I didn’t care if Roy would kill me for this but before returning home I stopped at a drugstore and bought something I never imagined I would possess, a pregnancy test. Slipping into the drugstore bathroom, I stared at the directions on the stick. I felt so sick I wanted to puke again. Squatting down I peed on that dreaded thing and leaving it on the sink waited for a result. Someone began knocking on the door and I yelled, “Just a second!” I waited a good fifteen minutes, terrified to look at it. And when I did, I nearly puked again. I was pregnant.
    I hid my secret for another three months. It wasn’t hard when your provider nearly congratulated you for wearing baggy clothes. Abortion wasn’t an option; the only money I received was Roy’s, I had no cell phone, and the places were too far to walk to. Thus, I had no money for a cab. One night when Roy didn’t realize I had simply a flimsy white night shirt on, and my large stomach peaked through, he walked into my room. Looking at me, then pausing and staring down at my stomach, his eyes widened in rage, as I’m sure my own widened in fear, and he slapped me so hard I saw stars. “GET OUT!” he bellowed. “Get out of my house now before I call the police and tell them you’ve been stealing from me!”
    I began to cry. “But Roy, I have no money and this wasn’t my fault.” He simply screamed, “Get out now you little whore. You slut! You disgust me!” “And don’t expect to go back to school,” he continued. “I’m telling them we moved.” I walked out of that house with only the clothes on my back and the child inside of me.
    For one week I survived by starving and stealing. But eventually, when I was caught stealing food from a drugstore, someone noticed and called the cops. I was dirty, pregnant and pitiful looking, and the sad truth of law is, I didn’t have a chance. When I tried telling the cop about Roy and my story, the first time I had ever spoken out he looked at me as if I was the world’s biggest liar. But, still they had to investigate and Roy would be testifying.
    Roy convinced the jury I was a thief; he said after my mom died I stole from him and lied to him and was an all around bad egg and liar. When I brought up Josh they informed me this wasn’t a rape case, this was theft. It was true, I had gotten greedy and stolen $175 worth of stuff; it had seemed so easy. But I was trying to save my own and my baby’s life. Regardless of whether I was pregnant, I would be sent to jail for a year, and within that time sent to a hospital to have my baby; Roy decided she would be given up for adoption.
    And so here I am. And now you know my story. My beautiful baby girl, I hope that someday you will be able to read this story when mommy is free and can have you back again, when fate is finally kind to me. When I am allowed to be free from the wrath of a terrible stepfather, of a boy my own age who deceived me, of the law that denied me justice, of this cage. Someday I hope that to you, I will be the lovely mother that I once lost, and my story will teach you to never let anyone deny you of free will, of freedom. To always speak your mind when someone has done you wrong. And that I will touch your life, with my story, that someday my story will make a difference. But most importantly I want you to learn that everyone is put here for a purpose and that no one should ever feel that they don’t belong here. I have finally realized that my purpose is to give you the freedom, and more importantly the love, that I never had.

    The full version of this story was found nearly five years later in a crevice in the wall of Julie’s cell. The other copy of the story was multiplied by five thousand and is now on the New York Times Best Seller List. Roy was put behind bars when he found Julie’s house, and attempted to attack her little girl. Josh is being charged with rape, not for raping Julie, but another woman he met at a club. And Julie? She lives in a beautiful white house with her daughter Freda. Their favorite past time is playing in the enormous backyard that surrounds their house and that does NOT contain a fence.

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