The Locked Away Journal

Hello! This writing belongs to BloodredMonster. 
This story is about two characters, Junior and Marissa, who are stuck in a toxic relationship, locked away from each other for good. Will Marissa escape her hell? 
== The Journal ==
It started so long ago. Me and Junior were best friends since 8th grade. But then, that friendship turned into love. But love turned into a monster, eating away at Junior’s soul. He’s gone insane. He’s gone from being that friend who always has your back to a psychopath, beating me down day after day. The only way I could avoid it was lock myself in my room, away from him. And when I’d come out to get basic things to survive, like food or water, he’d shove me back in my room and lock me in like an animal. He would rarely feed me, rather keep me alive. I’m like a burden to him. And when I would peek out my room sometimes, I’d find him eating luxurious foods and drinking alcohol, while I eat what he basically pulled out of the trash can. And I was the one who payed for all of that. He has no job, but he’s forced me to work for him. To make money for his use. I’m a slave. And even though he doesn’t want me to exist, he won’t sign the divorce papers I’ve tried to get him to multiple times. It’s like he hates me but he still wants me alive. He beats me, he “loves” me, he uses me. He threatens me. And now, I’m going to call the police. I’m going to call them and ask to have him locked up. And while the nasty rat is sitting behind the locked cage, while he’s feeling what I felt for so long, I will run away. I never want to see his ugly, horrible face again. Never want to hear his oozing voice. Never want to feel his fist beating me down. Never again. 
== A Letter Has Arrived ==
I hear the clinking of chains… no… keys. A moment later, a man walks in my small, barred room, dressed in a slick gray suit. 
“Hello Junior,” he lets the words roll of his tongue.
I say nothing. 
He waits, frowns, then continues. “Quite a shame, really. Friends since the eighth grade, fell in love, locked away forever.” 
I become angry with this statement. 
“Well, I can see you’re frustrated,” he says, reading my expression. “But, I’m here to give you a letter your hos-“ he clears his throat, seeing my expression grow into one of the ‘I-will-murder-you’ faces, “wife sent you.”
“Fine, read it,” I say. My voice is raspy from being so dehydrated. It feels dry, burning away like a grape left in the sun, turning to a raisin. 
“Alright,” he answers, taking a crumpled note out of his pocket. He unravels it, accidentally tearing it up a small bit. 
“Junior, you horrible thing,” he starts, “I hope you know that I hate you more than you’ll ever ever know. But, I’ll get you out of jail. I’ll pay for it like I’ve payed for you so many times before. However, under the condition that you must sign our divorcement papers. And when you’re free, I will never see your horrible, disgusting, ugly face ever again. I wish I never fell in love with such a monster.” 
He stops, and puts the note back in his pocket, “Well damn,” he laughs.
My hand turns into a fist. “NEVER!” I yell, as if Marissa could hear me right now. 
“Oh, that’s quite sad. I guess you’ll be staying here for… a longgggggg time,” the man says, basically teasing me.
“You know what,” I scowl, “Fine. Whatever. She’ll die within a day without me! I’ll divorce her no problem!" 
“Okay sign here then, Mr. Junior sir.” 
I take a pen and scribble my messy signature onto the paper. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the man says and walks out, locking the cell again. “Oh and by the way, my name’s Andrew,” he smiles, and then leaves.
== I lied ==
I leave Junior’s cell. I strike my hand through my soft gray hair. It makes me laugh that I look so old, when I’m quite young.
As I enter the- my office, I open up Marissa’s note again. 
On the bottom, it said, “P.S. I was completely lying, I don’t have the money to do that… so, if you can, could you just get him out and monitor him closely and get a reason to shove him back in a cell? Thank you, your dear friend, Marissa.” 
I smiled. Marissa is still a trickster I guess. I can’t help but feel bad for her. Maybe I should help her get a new life. But, she might not even be in Junior’s home. She may have left for all I know. So I decide to do nothing, for now at least.
I pop out my phone and spin around on my comfortable office chair. 
I text Marissa. “You doing okay?" and wait for a reply.
Category: Content (BloodredMonster)
Category: Work in Progress
Category: Relationships
Category: Original Writing
Category: Writing
Category: Romance