Read One Way Or Another You Will Pay Online
Authors: Eve Rabi
I’m
in bed now and I am just sobbing. Can’t write any more.
20 May
Dear
Diary, I haven’t been to work in four days. I just lie in bed and sob all day.
But,
I’ve made a decision. I am going to ask for a transfer to another prison, away from Tom. I will have the baby and then maybe give it up for adoption to some lovely family who adore children. My heart breaks as I say this, and I don’t know how, when, and where, but I won’t abort this baby. I wish I could keep the baby, but I don’t even have a proper place to live in, so where would I raise the baby, anyway?
I
don’t know what I was thinking when I went off the pill.
In
the meantime, I will quietly continue to work extra shifts and save all the money I can so that if I do end up going back home to Jakarta, I will have some money.
I stop reading, run into the bathroom, and throw up.
Bear
follows me into the bathroom. “You okay?”
I
nod and sit on the edge of the bathtub.
He
sits next to me. “This guy’s nuts,” Bear fumes. “Who the fuck kicks a woman? A pregnant woman? And body-slamming her? Fuck, I would like to go one-on-one with that cunt.
Man…”
He slams his fist into his palm. “Just give me a chance alone with him. Just one chance.”
I
say nothing but just shake my head. Of course, I know what Ingrid has gone through. So many times, I had those things done to me and most of the time, I was helpless to do anything about it. But I was lucky, I escaped. I’ve never told Bear
all
the things Tom did to me. Soong told him some stuff, whatever I told her. But he doesn’t know about the games Tom wanted to play. Unlike Ingrid, I refused to play them and was slapped around for refusing to indulge him.
“I
don’t want you to read anymore,” Bear says.
I
give him a weak smile. “I’m okay.”
After
a couple of rapid blinks, he takes my hand and leads me back to the bed where I lie in his arms.
When
I hear his soft snoring, I plant a light kiss on his cheek, pick up the diary, and continue reading, eager to know about the baby.
20 April.
Dear
Diary, when I went back to work, Tom had a surprise waiting for me. He had spent the four days working hard to come up with a deposit for a house for me.
$53,
626!
“You
and my baby are going to need a place to live,” he said, holding me and kissing my lips.
“I
am so excited about the baby, I can’t wait,” he said. “At first, I was spooked, true, but now, I am excited. We are going to be a family. Not the usual kind of family, but still, it’s going to be just you, me, and our baby.”
He
wants the baby, he is excited about the baby, and I am going to have my own home for the first time in my life.
How
can I not be thrilled?
The
question is: how would I afford the monthly repayments on a mortgage when I earn so little?
Tom
had all the answers. Every single one of them.
Tom
and I sat around the computer and discussed the house I was going to buy.
He
guided me as to what to say to the bank to secure a loan, and how I was to handle the monthly repayments.
We
actually role played. He was the banker and I was the …the…client.
“Where
did you get the deposit from, Ms. Felix?”
“My
father left it to me. An inheritance.”
“Have
you any proof of that?”
At
that stage, I was to pull out a document that Tom forged and hand it to them.
When
I gave the correct answer, Tom kissed me long and hard.
It
was so nice.
This
is all so exciting.
“You’re
going to own real estate in Sydney, Australia!” Tom said. “Big leagues, baby!”
I
smiled. I was going to own real estate in Sydney, Australia. Wow!
Not
bad for an Indonesian girl who migrated to Australia at the age of just twenty without her family.
21
July
Dear
Diary, I just moved into my new home and I am bursting with excitement. It’s big and spacious and I have an ensuite and a balcony! I’m still in shock over owning my own home.
Tom
has helped me every step of the way. With him by my side, I feel like I can achieve anything.
He
has not hit me again and we are really happy.
Okay,
he punched me in the arm and slapped me once, but it was all my fault. I back-chatted him.
Anyway,
as he said, I need to be a better girlfriend so I just have to look at the big picture, all the good he’s done for me and try harder to please him.
6 February
Dear
Diary, Tom has named my baby Warren. I don’t mind the name at all.
Warren
is the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. His eyes are greyish blue and his skin is tan like mine. People stop me in the street to have a closer look at him, to admire him. They love his colouring.
I’m
really in love with our beautiful baby. What was life like without Warren?
Can’t
remember. Lol!
I
must admit, I am a little disappointed in Tom. He has no desire to see Warren. When I press him about it, he gets really angry, so I keep quiet. I think, I’m not really sure, though, but I think Tom is jealous over Warren. As I said, I think I’m wrong. How can a father possibly be jealous of his own child?
Anyway,
I’m back at work.
I’m stunned. Tom named his son Warren?
Wow!
8
February
Dear
Diary, Tom hit me last night on the back of my head and kicked me off the couch. I fell onto the floor and I think I sprained my left wrist. Then, when I was on the ground, he lifted me off the ground and punched me in the stomach. I vomited right in the computer room.
Why?
Because I can no longer work nights. Warren needs me and Tom just doesn’t understand that.
Tom
says if I am not around at night, he will stop helping me with the monthly repayments and he will make me lose the house.
I
don’t want to be with Tom at night anymore.
He
has become really rough with sex these days. He goes and goes and goes and gets really angry when I don’t orgasm on time. Once, with his penis in me, he grabbed me by the throat and started to choke me.
“This
will make you orgasm, Arena,” he said as I almost died in his hands
I
almost fainted when he did that. And, no, I didn’t orgasm.
“You
called me Arena,” I said.
“My
mistake,” he said. “It’s not you, it’s her. She’s coming between us. She’s haunting me. Please understand my anguish and my situation.”
I
understood but I have to say, I didn’t like it one bit when he was inside of me, pounding away and saying, “You like this, Arena? Who does it better, huh, slut? Does he have the same stamina as me, you whore? Huh, you cheap bitch?”
Another
thing he does – he sits at the computer and makes me sit under the table, handcuffed and naked. I blow him for hours on end, as he gambles and plays the stock exchange these days.
Sometimes,
he blindfolds me as I do.
I
don’t like to do stuff like that anymore. Kinky stuff that makes me feel humiliated.
I
want us to lie on the couch and make love like he used to do, tell me how beautiful I am and how much he loves me, like he used to do before but these days, he doesn’t want that. He just does what he wants to and doesn’t care about how I feel, or about what I want.
When
I complain, it leads to a fight where he hits me or he threatens to stop helping with the mortgage payments so that Warren and I are on the street.
Now
I wish I hadn’t bought this house. It’s a noose around my neck. I wish I could just up and leave this place, go back to Jakarta. But how will I survive without Tom? He’s my pillar of strength.
Sure,
I hate him at times for making me feel worthless, for taking away my self-confidence, Imagine, I know all that, yet, I cannot leave him.
I
don’t hate Tom, I hate me.
I’ve
got to understand that Tom’s not humiliating me, it’s his horrible ex-wife, Arena, he’s really humiliating.
What
a bitch of a woman!
3 June
Dear
Diary, I am absolutely devastated. I am pregnant again.
I
cried and cried when I found out. Tom is furious. He says I haven’t lost the baby weight and here I am, pregnant again. He ranted and raved and stepped on my foot during our argument. It hurt so much, I had trouble walking.
He
said I was arguing instead of understanding how he feels.
The
hurtful things he said, they just crushed me.
“You
are so stupid,” he said. “And ugly. Look at you, with your big stomach and your flabby arms. You look disgusting! Like you are fifty. You want me to fuck that? Huh? Bang that? No, thank you! I’d rather stay celibate. Look at me and look at you. Chalk and cheese. Why I’m with you, I have no idea. Actually, I know why I’m with you; I feel sorry for you. That’s why!
The
only thing good about you is your mouth. I can fuck that. Until I get bored of you. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. Who’d want to bang that?”
“The
only person who will ever want you is me. Take me out of the picture and even a blind lesbian won’t want you. Stupid cow, pushing out babies like they’re tic tacs from a dispenser. What the fuck is wrong with you? And now your hair is going to grow out and change colour because you can’t use chemicals on your hair when you are pregnant? Your breasts are going to hang by your knees? Huh?”
“I
give you everything you want, I bought you a home, which I pay for every month. I steal money from Rogers and Rodney to give it to you. Do you appreciate it? No. Always whining like some fucking ungrateful, fat, clumsy, disgusting piece of shit.”
He
spat on me several times, while I sat with my head bowed and cried quietly.
“I
will lose the weight,” I said. “Promise!”
“That’s
what you promised the last time, you ugly, uneducated piece of trash.”
It’s
true, I should have lost the weight. But working nights with Tom, taking care of Warren during the day had left me exhausted and the last thing I wanted to do was exert myself by exercising. All I wanted to do was sleep for eight hours. I eat mechanically, without thinking, whatever I can find. Food has become my friend and my weight stays. Now, I’m pregnant again. I’m so depressed.
13 June
Tom
confuses me, Dear Diary. The very things he once loved about me, are the very things he hates right now. He used to love my curves but now, he constantly calls me fat.
He
used to love my naiveté but now, he calls me an idiot, stupid, dumb, and simple.
“What
kind of a word is mustn’t?” he demands. “Speak English or shut your mouth.”
Remember
when he used to like it when I used that word?
Well,
things have changed.
Remember
when he told me he loved how uninhibited I was, even though I wasn’t? Well, when I try those moves on him these days, he pushes me off him, saying I am a slut and that I am a joke. Doesn’t want to hold me anymore.
I
feel so hurt and confused. It’s almost like I’ve read him wrong.
I
love him so much, I just want to be loved by him. But I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.
17 February
Tom
named our daughter Sasha.
I’m
not comfortable with that name. It’s the name of his dead daughter, so it freaks me out. But he won’t listen to me and when I protest, it leads to another fight.
Anyway,
I’m unable to breastfeed Sasha because I have to work. Tom refuses to let me work days. He insists on me working nights so I am forced to leave the kids with Beatrice. I hate that so much.