Page 74 of Break

Max

Leaning against Ethan’s side, Mina closes her eyes.

“My parents were married for over ten years before they had me. Their marriage was one of convenience. Both of them were middle class, came from good Christian homes, and had similar goals for their lives. It wasn’t like they couldn’t have any children; they just focused on their careers and themselves rather than starting a family. Their parents and friends pressured them over being childless and never failed to remind them that having a child was what they were supposed to do. It’s what society expected, and their duty as a well-educated, financially stable couple.”

“I was born just under a year later once they made the decision. Both of my parents were very old fashioned. They believed that it was the woman’s duty to stay home and ‘rear the children’ while the man’s duty was to provide financial support, make the major decisions, and rules. He was very rule-driven.”

Furrowing her brows as she pulls forward more memories. “Rules were the way of life at my home. Some were obvious and naturally legitimate. Rules like I’m only to be seen and not heard, polite at all times, assigned daily chores, and so on. Normal rules that I think most of us all had to abide by.”

“Some were more difficult. They expected me to have perfect grades, no matter the difficulty of the classes. I’ve always struggled in math, so when I received a less-than-perfect test score, there were consequences.”

Ethan hasn’t moved, but he scowls when she mentions consequences.

“Punishment was par for the course when a rule was broken, or I didn’t complete a task in the time allotted to me. Most of them were spankings when I was younger, but as I got older, those escalated to fit the crime. Spankings turned into beltings, or for extreme cases, a cane or rod. I was always supposed to come immediately when they called for me. I had strict bedtimes and wake-up times.”

She pauses here for a moment to play with her fingers before continuing. My friends and I briefly meet each other’s eyes, understanding and sympathy passing between us that this has to be incredibly difficult for her.

“When arriving for a meal, I was always to be presentable; clean clothes, clean face, clean hands, nothing under my nails. My infraction would determine the punishment. Like, if my nails or hands were dirty, I would get a ruler across the knuckles. If my clothes were dirty, I was to strip and eat my meal in only my undergarments. If I didn’t make it to bed on time, they would belt me during my night routine the entire time until I made it to bed… Things like that.”

I sit forward and press the tips of my fingers to my lips to stay silent. Vincent hasn’t moved, frozen and unblinking, completely focused on her. She seems like she’s in another place, never pausing as she tells her story. I’m grateful for Ethan when he slides his arm around her, gripping her upper arm to pull her further into his chest.

“Nightly prayers were the hardest for me because as I got older, I found it more difficult to find things to be thankful for. Both of my parents always stood behind me during my nightly prayers, which I had to speak out loud. If they didn’t find them sufficient or ‘Godly’ enough, my father would have me prostrate myself on the floor while my mother kneeled on my back and he caned me. If my prayers still weren’t up to their standards, I would have to repeat scripture while kneeling on rice. They felt that pain would help remind me of all the things I should be grateful for.”

“I don’t know if any of you have ever heard of isometrics, but it was something that my parents adopted in my early teens. It’s where you’re supposed to hold a position for a lengthened period of time to strengthen your muscles. When my parents felt I was being lazy, they would guide me into a position for me to hold until they allowed me to release it. Planks, squats, yoga positions like downward dog, positions of that nature. They were difficult to hold, especially when I was younger. I wasn’t allowed outside much except to get some fresh air, or my favorite was when I got to read outside in the summers.”

Finally, her eyes open to look at us, then she closes them again. With a wobbly voice, she finishes describing the nightmare of her childhood.

“I know this all sounds ridiculous, or like I was a problem child, but I truly wasn’t. I did my absolute best to please them. I really did. It’s just… I felt like I couldn’t always get it right, even for the simplest of rules. They withheld their praise and affection from me for as long as I could remember. It was doled out as a reward instead of gifted to me. I had to earn their love.”

“I was stupid, dumb, slow, lazy, ugly, a disappointment, regrettable, a brat, a hellion, the devil… I don’t know… just so many things. I learned early on that if I stayed quiet and did exactly what they expected of me, I wouldn’t anger them. Staying in my room after I did my chores was normally my best choice. They didn’t raise their voices at me, which was nice. My mother and father weren’t really yellers like a lot of kids’ parents. They stayed fairly even-tempered and spoke in softened tones most of the time.”

“My home life was a significant reason I chose to accept Danny’s proposal. After my mother died, my father began dating again to find a new wife. I tried my best to complete all of my duties as well as hers, but it was difficult. When he met the woman he’s married to now, she already had a few children who would be able to pick up the slack from where I was failing. They both felt that it was time for me to move on but knew that I didn’t have the skills to live on my own.”

Mina sounds embarrassed as she admits this, and I stop myself from cutting in to ease her mind because I want her to feel like she can finish.

Sighing deeply, she says, “The Reeds, along with my father, concocted the plan for Danny to take me on as his wife since I would have already known how to handle a house. According to them, I couldn’t do better. I didn’t want to because, as you know, Danny never really cared for me. So, it surprised me when he was also onboard with it. My father threatened to cut me off and kick me out if I didn’t do as I was told. An insurance company whose owner had hired me was doing a favor for my father. That job was threatened as well. My father was a joint account holder on my bank account and drained it, refusing to give me a penny until I agreed.”

“Danny did pull me aside and promised me that life would be easier with him than at home with my father. He said he’d let me have access to my savings. I could work where I wanted to and live the way I wanted. I just needed to make sure that I helped around the house to keep it running.”

“The moment we married, all of his promises were pushed to the side every time I asked. He always said ‘soon,’ or ‘once we paid off the car,’ then the credit card, then the house… and then and then and then. When I attempted to discuss it with him, he would get angry. Things just all escalated from there. He forced me to quit my job because things weren’t getting done at home. Since he was the main source of income, it made sense that I should stay home.”

Finally, a tear slips free from her eye, but she’s quick to wipe it away. “When things got really bad with him, I tried to talk to my father and see if he’d allow me to come home. Or, at least release the rest of my savings to me, which he was holding on to until he thought we needed it, but he refused. Told me to do my job as a wife and stop complaining about what God has given me. I was just… stuck.”

Ethan, Vincent, and I all stare at her in shocked silence. Fucking horrified by her story and appalled that her parents, whom we assumed were decent people, were so backward and cruel to a little girl.

“Jesus, Mina,” Vincent whispers. He’s been running his hands through his hair the entire time she was describing what life was like for little Mina, getting increasingly upset with every new detail she disclosed.

Me? I’m fucking shaking with rage. I have an intrinsic need to go hunt down the bastard who claims to be her father, and inflict every ounce ofpunishmentthat he felt she deserved.

Mina is still leaning against Ethan’s body even while his scowl grows deeper every minute. Most likely he feels the same need to keep her protected from the all the bullshit and trauma she’s experienced as Vincent and I do, even if we are all too little too late for it.

As the silence stretches on, Mina opens her eyes and looks at us. Her expression is one of vulnerability and fear, as though she’s afraid that we’ll judge her or think less of her.

“Mina,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. I do my best to restrain my fury, but I know I’ve failed when she winces at my next words. “It’s fuckingbullshit.” Shaking my head, I try again, knowing that she’ll think I meant that what she said is bullshit. “That’s not what I meant. I just can’t fathom all of that went on behind closed doors, and not one person could see it for what it was.”

She’s gnawing on her lip as she considers me. “Danny knew. He’s known since shortly after we moved next door to him. I tried to ask his mom for help once, but she excused it by saying that being a parent can be challenging. I was told to try to understand that parents can have bad days.”

Vincent’s still looking sick, sitting forward in his seat with his hands white knuckling the arms. “No one at school ever suspected? A teacher? Anyone at church? Your goddamndoctors,for Christ’s sake?”

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