Bates

8

   *TRIGGER WARNING*

Joyce was away when it happened.

   Norma was alone-- cleaning one of the vacant motel rooms. The boys were not too far away, and were staying with Mr. Decody and his daughter, Emma, who was only slightly younger than Norman.

   She sprayed the clear liquid onto the wooden nightstand and wiped it vigorously with a cloth. The young woman was wearing neon-yellow gloves; she didn't want to know what people did in motel rooms. Joyce seemed to keep the place up, but occasionally a really messy guest would throw a room all out of wack.

   Norma didn't hear her assailant's footsteps behind her, penetrating the wooden walkway. She didn't notice the sizeable, sharp knife in his hand...the one he had used only days ago to skin a squirrel.

   He approached her with anger in his head and hatred in his heart, yet these feelings did not express themselves on the man's face. He placed the knife in a sheath on his belt and smiled charmingly at her. Norma grinned back at him. "Hello, Keith, how are you?" she asked, addressing him in a friendly manner.

   "I'm doing quite well," he managed. His gate was slow and lumbering as he walked towards her, nearly backing her into the small motel room.

   "You know, Romero came over here the other day looking for you. Said he wanted to speak to you about something. Have you talked to him yet?" she asked, merely attempting to make conversation as she threw a pile of dirty towels into a wastebasket.

   "Oh, I've talked to him alright," he said, grinning.

   Norma glanced up from her task. "Oh?"

   "We talked. Nothing serious. Just a little accident that occurred last week," he told her.

   "Well, I'm glad you two got it sorted out."

   "About that--"

   Keith pulled the knife on her. Her face fell, and she just barely dodged him as he swung it at her violently. "What are you doing?!" her scream was a mixture of shock, fear, and alarm.

   "I'm getting back what's rightfully mine, that's what!"

   Norma had no idea what Keith could've been talking about, and she had no time to think on the matter before he backed her against the nightstand, looming over her with the knife. She grabbed the only available item she could find and swung at him with the lamp that had been sitting on the nightstand.

   "You'd best have better aim than that, girl," he mocked, stepping out of the way. Norma attempted to go after him again, yet fear rose in her chest when her legs were knocked out from under her, leaving the lamp shattered in her arms.

   She laid in the floor, completely defenseless and hardly able to ponder even the pounding of her heart. It was apparent that at one point Keith touched her; her body jerked in response yet the hit to her head restrained her movement. Norma hadn't the energy to push herself up until her mind had comprehended what he was about to do.

   The young woman screamed-- he slapped duct tape over her mouth. She tried pushing against him...he had a pair of cuffs ready to take her prisoner with, and he did just that.

   He threatened her. "If you ever try coming in here and taking this place from me, I'll hurt you good."

   She cried. "I don't know what you're talking about--" she wanted to say, yet her voice was muffled with tape.

   "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I won't have it." his rank, stinking breath penetrated her own. Norma was confused. Keith continued, "If you ever try taking this place from me, your boys won't survive the pain of what I'll do to them."

   She thought she might vomit; it was as if there were stones in her stomach that refused to go away. Her mind was racing-- she didn't want to imagine what Keith might do to her children, and she fumbled in an effort to reason with him. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt my boys," she wanted to plead. Just when she started to go numb from the pain, a fleshy hand jerked her head up by the scalp. Her skull was on fire, yet she remained silent in the hopes that he would get no more pleasure from her pain.

   "You promise me, then?" He growled.

   His questioning felt ridiculous to Norma. It was as if there was a five-year-old standing in front of her, holding out his pinky for a pinky-swear. If it hadn't been for the seriousness of the situation, she might've laughed at the absurdity. She nodded.

   He dropped her. His left leg came over her as he walked out of the motel room, leaving her half naked and surrounded by broken glass and spilled cleaning supplies.

   Keith ripped the tape from her mouth and drove away without another word.

   Norma sat on her knees in the floor, crying. Her tears lasted a few minutes before she pondered what to do with herself.

   She knew that she should tell someone what Keith did to her. It would make all the sense in the world for her to go to the police, the sheriff, anybody-- at the moment, there was still a possiblity of catching the criminal red-handed.

   Still, there was always the possibility that no one would believe her. She hadn't been here that long, and if she came out about Keith now, there would be shame-- shame on her for being alone, shame on her for "provoking" or "seducing" Keith. Shame on the boys who, at the moment, could not understand what happened even if they had seen it with their own eyes...Norma thanked God that they had not been present for the havoc that he had wreaked.

   Even if everything went well, even if Norma did have help, there would always be the fear. The fear that, one day, Keith Summers would obtain a "Get Out of Jail, Free" card and hunt her down for ever telling anyone what had happened in that hotel room.

   Her body was rigid as she rose to clean the mess around her. She surpressed a pained sigh as she leaned to reach the broom, snatching it quickly in order to clean up the broken lamp. One of the beds was untidy from the struggle; she fixed the sheets and moved on, placing her supplies on the card and pushing it out in front of her before she closed the door on room number six without looking back.