The Other Side of the Yellow Door

He was a lovely specimen of man.

I'd catch myself looking at him, with drool practically hanging out of my mouth.

His name was Karl. He was the assistant manager at the Fountainhead Bookstore. I was a lowly stocker, but we'd occasionally chit-chat about the books we were reading. Last year's Christmas party was when he caught my attention. He'd been drinking and  took off his shirt to show everyone the tattoo he'd just gotten on his back. It was a huge dead tree going up his spine, with the limbs twisting out around his body. We discussed what it symbolized to him, and I saw something in the way he looked at me when we talked. I'd always thought he was just another mindless drone like all the rest. But that night, I saw something else- a glimmer of extraordinary.

Many months went by, and I thought of him sometimes. I tried my best to capture his attention; but it didn't seem "meant to be".  He was in his own world. I wasn't in that world. He was too good for me. He was not even on a pedestal; he was on the roof.

It was just an ordinary Thursday night in May when the obsession started. (And I do recognize now that it was an obsession) After closing, I walked to my car alone and realized that it wouldn't start. I was having that moment of panic, realizing that I had no one to turn to this late at night. Then, I spotted Karl locking up. As he walked towards his car, I jumped out and yelled "Hey Karl, do you know anything about cars?" He walked over and grinned, "What seems to be the trouble?"

After a few minutes of messing around under the hood, he got in and started her right up. He told me it was just a loose battery cable. He put his hand on my arm and leaned in to me..."Now go home and get some rest, Fay. We've got inventory tomorrow." He walked on to his car and I was sitting there for a few moments with stars in my eyes and goosebumps on my arms. I had no doubt that this little "car trouble" was fate lending me a helping hand. I giggled to myself. I had an idea! I'd follow him home to see where he lived...You could tell a lot about a man by where he lived, right?

He lived about four miles away in a nice suburban neighborhood. I parked a few houses down across the road and waited as he fumbled in his pockets for his keys, all the while looking lovely in the moonlight. His house was a beautiful grey stone house with a pale, yellow door. The home was small, but certainly nice. There was a sprawling oak tree in the front yard.  There were little stepping stones leading from the driveway to the front door. I couldn't help but think that I wanted this place to be my home someday. If I could just win a place in his heart, I was sure I'd be on the other side of the charming yellow door. If he could just see what I'd already seen- that we were right for each other. He had been inside for a few minutes when I ventured out of the car. I snuck up the driveway and peeked in the picture window. The shades were drawn, but I could see through a small spot in the corner. He was watching a movie and sipping a beer. I wished I could be there with him. We could be laughing in all the same places of the movie, snuggled up on the couch, and stealing glances at each other- glances of love. He looked so miserable sitting there alone. I knew that I could be the puzzle piece that was missing. I was the key to his happiness just desperately waiting to be found.

The longer I sat there, in the shadows, I worried that I might be caught and ruin my plans. So, I whispered a sad "goodbye". I paused at his door and touched it lightly. Then, I hurriedly headed home. The sooner I went to sleep, would bring the daylight and work, where I'd see him again. I lay in bed tossing and turning. I fantasized about our life together. I pondered how to go about asserting myself in his path, so that he'd notice me. As much as my body needed sleep, my mind wandered hopelessly back to him, over and over again. I was elated and I knew that I had to make this happen. He had to love me. He just HAD TO. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep while I was trying to remember what it felt like when he touched me...I wished I could relive it right then.

I awoke with a huge smile on my face. That day NOTHING was going to hold me back; nothing was going to bring me down. However, at work, reality set in. Inventory was tedious work. I barely saw Karl. He stayed in his office, and only came out to check the progress occasionally. I was growing increasingly tired throughout the day. Apparently, staying up all night daydreaming wasn't doing me any good. I still thought about him, but was scared of making a move. What if I scared him away? What if he would never be attracted to me? My confidence was dwindling, but the love was still there.

After the world's longest shift was finally at an end, I was ready to bolt out of there. As I walked across the store, I saw him coming down an aisle. He was obviously headed for his office. I came around the corner of a bookshelf where I knew I'd be right in his path and the worst thing happened; we COLLIDED. And when I say collided, I really mean crashed. He was walking pretty fast and did not see me. He ran right over me and we both came tumbling down. I was flailing helplessly in the floor as he struggled to get off of me. (That's not a flattering position, as you can imagine.) I was horrified and embarassed. I probably turned ten different colors during the course of the event. Once he got up and straightened his suit, he helped me up, but then yelled, "Fay, watch where you're going, please! Others have things to do besides go home and wash their hair."

I managed to mumble out "I'm sorry." as he was walking away. I don't know if he heard me, but he sure didn't acknowledge it.  I slinked out of the place, hoping that no one else would know of the incident.  I cried the whole way home. I turned on some sappy love movie and snuggled up to my cat, Zelda. I told her all about Karl...then about halfway through the movie, she got up and walked out of the room. I took it too much to heart and sobbed uncontrollably for the next hour and a half. I brushed my teeth and curled up in bed. I passed out quickly, as I was exhausted emotionally AND physically. Tomorrow was my day off, and I was certainly ready for some rest!

I woke up at 11 am feeling fully-refreshed. The cat was purring and rubbing herself on my head. I layed in bed for a few more moments and pondered what to do with my day. I knew Karl was at work right now. I had to kill time, hoping to find some excuse to see him again. I hesitantly dragged myself out of bed, and sat at the table eating cereal for what seemed like hours. He invaded my every thought. I breathed and he was there, in my mind.

I drudged through the day, watching t.v. & reading...anything I could do to distract myself for a few moments from thoughts of him. When night fell, I was tempted to make my way back to his house and see what he was doing. Somehow, I just knew he was as alone and miserable as me. I'd never seen him date anyone while I'd worked there. I'd dated a few losers, but nothing long-term. But, I thought of his anger at me over our little "crash" and figured I should give him some cooling-off time. It wouldn't do to have him catch me outside his home creeping about anyway. I'd back off for the moment, and wait until the time was right again. I was more determined than ever that he would be mine. We'd live in the perfect little stone house together, and never be lonely again.,

I found it hard to sleep that night. I won't bore you with the details. I thought of us and the life I thought we should be living and was giddy inside. (Being giddy inside makes it QUITE difficult to sleep, I can assure you!)

The next day appeared suddenly. I can't say I was thrilled about work, but I knew he'd be there.  He was in his office for the first half of the work day. When I was on lunch, he wandered into the break room for coffee. He regarded me silently and then sat down. "Now, Fay, I'm sorry about yelling at you yesterday. I hope there aren't any hard feelings...I know you didn't mean to bump into me. Accidents happen." I thought I sensed some bitterness mixed in. I wasn't sure if he was apologizing for the sake of our work relationship, or whether he was actually sorry.

"Oh, No, I'M sorry. I should've been paying more attention to where I was going. I tend to be in my own world sometimes..." I was telling myself to breathe until he spoke again.

He laughed a bit and said, "Yeah, I know how that is..." He got up and walked out.

I let out a sigh as soon as he was gone. I was victorious. He had forgiven me AND talked to me more than usual! I was one more step closer to my goal...My heart practically leaped out of my chest and danced.

The rest of the day, I could have sworn I caught him glancing at me from time to time when he was roaming around the bookstore doing various things. Perhaps I was seeing ghosts, but I was still thrilled at the rate things were going. At closing, I walked as slowly as possible to my car, hoping he'd strike up conversation with me as he was coming out of the store. He walked right by me at a fast pace, got in his car, and left.

Should I follow? My mind was racing and my heart hurt at the idea of going home alone again. I waited a few minutes....arguing with myself and giving him a good head-start. I decided I'd at least go for a few minutes and see what he was doing. "Just a peek" is what I kept telling myself. When I arrived, I could already see the flicker of the tv through the corner of the window. This time I actually scoped the neighborhood to see if anyone was about who might see me. It was rather late and I didn't spot anyone, so I rushed over to the window.

It looked like some sort of slasher flick he was watching. He was eating some sort of noodles...perhaps Ramen since he lived alone...He had another beer. Yet again, he looked miserable, but I could tell certain scenes of the movie made him grin. I pictured me snuggled up against him and getting scared, turning my face into the comfort of his shoulder. I pictured him embracing me to shield me from the fright...and then kissing me, because he couldn't resist. One thing led to another and we were naked, sweaty, and not watching the movie anymore. My heart was going at the speed at light and I glanced at my watch and realized I'd been sitting there fantasizing for about 45 minutes. I glanced in at him one last time, and ran back to the car. I slept well that night. I had found "cloud nine" and slept on it.

The next few weeks followed a pattern. On the days I had to work, I followed him home & watched at least for a few minutes. On my days off, I moped about the house. But in both situations, he was always there with me in my mind. A few times, I searched him on the internet. I found a few old sites, but no new information. I already knew the basic info that was listed everywhere.

So life went on like this. Nothing of importance or value happened. I fed my cat,. I worked. I did the laundry. I ate. I slept. I thought of him always.

One night almost three weeks after the car trouble incident, I got into my car to leave after closing.  He shot me a huge smile as he was getting into his car. I was flustered and probably turned red, but he couldn't possibly see in the shadows of my car. I waited about 4 or 5 minutes, then headed over to his place. The lights were all on. I was kind of afraid. He usually just immediately turned on the tv. Was he entertaining someone else? There wasn't another car in the driveway. Could there be a girl in the neighborhood he cared for? Surely not. I snuck out and sidled up to the window. I couldn't see him, but I could see movement in the kitchen. Who was he cooking for?! I ran back to the car and calmed myself as I sat there. I relaxed myself with thoughts of us together...

Suddenly, his face was outside my car window. "Oh Lord", I thought. I don't have a good excuse as to why I'm here. I racked my brain, but I couldn't think. He knocked at the car window. I rolled it down.

"Fay, why don't you come in? I made some soup. There's plenty for two."

He hadn't bothered to ask, yet. I thanked the Lord for small miracles.

So just like that, I was on the other side of the yellow door. I sat at the small table, still stunned to the point where I could think of nothing to say.

He brought out a steaming bowl of soup and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink? All I have is Guinness and bottled water..."

I managed to mutter, "Water's fine."

He sat down and began talking about work. "It's been really slow at work lately, hasn't it? This economic downturn may have us all losing our jobs."

I nodded. I had burned my mouth gulping down the soup. I didn't want to seem rude. I didn't want to think he'd wasted his homemade vegetable soup on me. I wanted to insure that I'd be invited back someday. "This soup is excellent, Karl. I had no idea you were such a good cook."

He grinned. "Eat up. There's plenty more where that came from."

I finished the bowl and just couldn't help but look at him, quietly studying his soup as he ate. He looked up and caught my glance. I melted into that moment. I felt this wave of euphoria come over me. I yawned and leaned on my arm....and then I remembered nothing else until I awoke...

I immediately panicked because I could feel the air on my skin. Everything gradually came into view. I was on the couch, completely naked, with both arms and legs duck-taped tightly.

It dawned on me that I had become prey instead of his lover.

I started kicking wildly to try and free myself from the tightly-wrapped duct tape on my legs. He laughed...I spotted him staring at me from a recliner a few feet away.

"Aww...you're just going to hurt yourself, sweetheart. You don't have the strength to break it. " and he grinned at my helplessness.

I stopped struggling, and just rolled into the floor on my knees. He was in my face in seconds. "Stop it, you cunt! You're just making things harder on yourself." He shoved me back onto the couch, and punched me hard in the stomach. I couldn't control my panic anymore. I started sobbing. He sat back down, studying me with what seemed like disgust.

He was silent for what seemed an eternity..."I've known all along that you've been following me home, from the very first night. You aren't very good at hiding it. I also see how you look at me at work. If you think you have a chance with me, this should set the record straight.

I managed to choke out, "But...I...didn't mean anything by..."

"Shut up! I did NOT say you could talk. I WILL gag you if you don't behave."

I swallowed my words, sighed, and then nodded.

"What made you think you had a chance with ME? You have a decent body, but your face just BORES me. We always have the same repetitious conversations. You just bore me in general."

I saw that as he said this, he was tracing the outlines of my curves with his eyes. A chill went up my spine, as I realized just much of a sitting duck I had been. I had practically sent him an invitation to do this to me.  He got up and came towards me. I cowered and tried to assume a fetal position as best I could. He took off his belt, and I closed my eyes.

"Look at me!" he roared.

He started beating me with the belt. He smacked me across my breasts and ass repeatedly. He left welts on my stomach from hitting it so hard. Then he started smacking my legs. I practically jumped each time the belt came down on me. I can't even measure or put into words the amount of pain I received at his hands. He finally stopped, and sat back down in the recliner. He was breathing heavy and his eyes never left me. I could see a glimmer of remorse in his eyes, as he was deciding what to do with me. I tried desperately to think of something I could say or do to take advantage of this moment and convince him to let me go. Alas, the pain shooting through my entire body made my mind useless. All I could think was "MAKE IT STOP!"

He got up and I closed my eyes again- afraid to know what my fate would be.  Some music started up and I thought to myself..."Conway Twitty...It's Only Make Believe...WHY!?"

There was some motion going on so I opened my eyes out of instinct and he was unbuttoning his pants. I was thinking, "OH GOD, I know I'm not usually the praying type, but I promise I will be more faithful if you just stop this from happening and let me get out of here alive!"

He grabbed my arms and pulled them up over my head, and then swung me over the back of the couch. He entered me quickly (anally), and there could've been no preperation for the pain. I pushed myself repeatedly further over the couch, but he just pulled me back. He just kept ramming me over and over again. Every new thrust was a new wave of pain through my whole body. The song eventually changed and it was "One Night" by Elvis. I would never feel the same about that song again.  I stopped struggling and just let go...I blacked out.

When I awoke, I was in the bathroom, and the duct tape restraints were gone.I checked the door first and it was locked. I looked around for any means of escape. There was a small window over the ceramic tub & shower, but there was no way I could fit through. I considered yelling out the window but figured he would be in there before I could get a response. It was still dark outside, so I assumed it was still the same night. I couldn't be sure, as I was groggy and my whole body throbbed. So I instead ran a cold shower. I got in and when the cold water hit me, tears came streaming down. After a few moments, it numbed out my body and felt blissful. I drank from the water as well, not knowing when I might have another chance.

I searched the bathroom for towels, but found none. There was a hand towel, so I dried myself as best I could with it. I looked for something to use as a weapon and the toilet plunger was the closest thing I could find to that, but I was afraid he'd get it out of my hands too easily. I also looked through the cleaning products trying to decipher if I could make some concoction to throw in his face, but ultimately gave up on that as well.

I tried to sit on the side of the tub, but it was too painful. I didn't have the energy to hold myself up, either.  I gently laid back down on the bath mat. I tried to force myself to rest, but the night was replaying over and over in my head. Could I have done something differently? Could I have prevented this? Ultimately I decided that aside from never following him in the first place, there wasn't much I could have done about it. How could I have known that he was this beast?

Just as I thought I might actually sleep, there was a knock at the door. Out of instinct, I pulled the bathmat over me as he opened the door.

"Oh Fay, let's not be modest. I've seen everything you've got and it isn't very impressive."

He hesitated and then sat on the side of the tub. "Get up."

I dropped the mat and pulled myself up. I was afraid to even whimper. He pulled me close to him and I felt his breath on my breasts. I almost felt a pang of lust, mixed in with the fear. I shook it off, because I had disgusted myself.

"Now, I'm going to make sure you remember me, bitch."

Before I knew what was happening, he whipped out a boxcutter and started carving my inner thigh. It felt like someone had set fire to my thigh. I tried to back away from him, but he just jabbed the blade in harder. When he was done, I looked down. There was a huge "K" carved into my flesh, about 3 or 4 inches tall. Blood was streaming down my leg. I started to fear that I would not make it out alive. I'd always held out hope, but I just allowed myself to collapse onto the floor and was a bit in shock. He left the room without a word to me. I heard the door lock.

For the next few hours, I just stared at the ceiling...I counted the tiles and I tried to do anything that occupied my mind for a bit longer. I wondered if he was sleeping. 

Shortly after I first noticed the morning light, I could hear some commotion. Within minutes, he came in and brought food. He was dressed for work. He gave me 2 slices of toast and some orange juice. I was distrustful at first, looking into his eyes for some sign of deception. He crammed a piece of toast into my mouth.

"Fay, you DO need a diet, but you must eat." Of all the things he'd said, I think THAT angered me the most.

I finished off the toast and juice.

He grabbed my hair and pulled me to him. He kissed me on the lips and bit my bottom lip hard. I'd tell you how bad it hurt, but it was nothing compared to what I'd already endured.

I was angry so I ventured to speak. "Won't they notice I'm missing at work?"

He laughed. "Do you really think I'm that dumb? I'm going to tell them that you've called in sick. You have some sort of stomach virus and won't be in for a while. I'm sure Anna will cover for you. She needs the hours to feed her hordes of ignorant offspring."

He walked out and I heard him leave shortly after. I waited a few minutes to make sure he wouldn't come back. I had a little of my strength back, so I climbed up on the side of the tub and peered out the window. I couldn't spot a person in sight, but I decided to scream my lungs out anyway. I think I screamed for about 10 or more minutes before I decided to save my strength. I periodically checked the window. I wondered how there was no one in this neighborhood in the middle of the day. I never saw a single person. I tried bashing the door and door handle with the handle of the plunger, but it never got me anywhere. I took another shower out of disgust and boredom. I had dried blood all over my leg and wanted that off me. I cried because I knew that even if I did make it out, I'd ever be reminded of him when I showered or used the restroom or changed clothes. I'd never rid myself of this memory.

That was when I gave in completely. I just laid in the tub and let the shower run on me, beating my face and body. I was feeling dead inside. I didn't even think of him or anything at that point. I just existed and felt numb. Even physically, I only felt things if I moved. I just laid as still as I could. I didn't worry about survival anymore. I was just there.

He came home earlier than expected. It wasn't even dark yet. Maybe he'd been afraid of my escape and asked to leave early? I laughed out loud.

He brought me a bowl of soup. It was cold, but I ate it willingly. I didn't wish to seem uncooperative.  When I'd finished, he lead me to the living room.

He took some rope and tied it around my wrists, and then picked me up to put the rope onto a hook from the ceiling. I distinctly remembered a potted plant had been hanging there before. How long had he planned this? He then bit me and kissed me all over my breasts and hips. He licked my inner things, running his tongue slowly across the "K". I could tell he was getting worked up. It seemed like hours that this went on, while my arms grew more tired.  Finally, he left the room, but came back without clothes on.

He took me down and removed the ropes. He didn't speak, but I did not fight. I was done with my struggle.  He gestured for me to lay on the couch. I did it without hesitation.

He kissed me on the neck. He was almost gentle for a few moments. Then he pushed himself into me and fucked me hard while squeezing my breasts. I suppose it was rape, but I didn't fight. I just laid there and wondered what my cat was doing.  When he was spent, he collapsed on me. His face was close to mine and there were tears rolling down his cheeks.  He got off of me and turned away from me.

"Fay....I...I've loved you for months. You have to get out. You have to get away now. I am a monster. I can't keep these impulses at bay. Just go...."

I just looked around, confused. The front door was only about 8 feet away from me.

"GO! RUN!"

I jumped up and ran, completely nude, to my car. It wasn't until I got home that I felt shame for my lack of clothing. I sat in the car. I was actually worried what people would think of me. I waited until the coast was clear and ran into my house.

First, I showered. I cried because I felt the ugly cut on my thigh, and thought of my prediction about it being a neverending reminder.  It was true. I'd never forget. I didn't feel I could talk about it to anyone.

Somehow, being home made me feel safer. I felt relief sweep over me. I contemplated what to do....about work....about the police....about everything. I decided to sleep on it. I was exhausted.

I woke up around 2 p.m. the next day. I started to wonder if he knew where I lived. Surely he wouldn't come here, right? I hoped. I ate and fed my cat. For once, she seemed thrilled to see me. She rubbed on me, while I sat on the couch. I just stared at the t.v. (which was off.)

What would I do for work? What would I do with my life now that everything I knew was destroyed? How could I trust anyone, especially men?  I didn't know if I'd ever feel safe again, truly.

For the next week and a half, I went through a daily routine of disbelief, fear, and anger. I rarely felt peace. I didn't leave my house. There were days I cried for hours on end, and then days I felt numb again and could just feel dead inside. I couldn't predict how the day would unfold. I just lived it and hoped for relief.

But then, something strange happened. I started to feel sorry for him. Then I'd be angry at myself for feeling this way. No matter what, those thoughts kept seeping in.

One night, I found myself wondering what he was doing. I laid on the couch, reliving the feeling of the day his hand brushed my arm. I pictured him and it wasn't tinged with the horror of the torture. I pondered if he still thought of me, and if he really did mean the words he said before I left. He had let me go because he cared. Didn't he? I felt I had to know.

I drove over to his house. I snuck up to the window. He was laying on the couch with a book in hand. He looked even more miserable than before. I sat down under the window and cried. I knew then how he truly felt, and I loved him for it.

I got up, intending to leave, but I put my face up to the door. I was straining to hear him making any sound. I wondered what he was reading, and if he thought of me at that exact moment. 

"NO, NO! RUN!" is what my mind told me. But, my heart took control of my body. I kissed the yellow door, and knocked.

In seconds, he was there. He grabbed my hair and jerked me inside.