Broken Dreams and New Beginnings: Belts of Leather, Jaws of Glass

By: Shagti2

Ages: Misty –23, Ash –22, Brock – 27, Misty’s husband - 25

In the city of Cerulean, there is a neighborhood. It is practically the stereotypical envisioning of utopia in suburbia. Two-story houses nicely kept and painted in various shades of whites and blues – a few greens thrown in – went down the block, all with white picket fences.

One house in particular belonged to Misty Kasumi Waterflower. Well, actually it was Misty Kasumi Waterflower Cassen now, what with her shotgun marriage a few months ago. The pretty redheaded woman sat in the front porch, rocking away in the white love seat rocking set, the wind blowing at the loose flower print dress she had on. For only 23 years old, she seemed much older.

She had no wrinkles or worry lines, though. Her face was flawless and beautiful, no abnormalities marking her. What made her seem so old, was her eyes. Eyes that were filled with a bit of pain, a bit of sorrow, and if you looked really closely, anger.

For what seemed to be the billionth time, Misty sighed. The smell of the roasting chicken from the kitchen came through to the front door, keeping Misty alert of its progress.

Misty lowered her head and buried her face in her hands. She thought of the days when she was happy, when she had felt content and safe. That seemed like lifetimes ago, back in the days when she used to travel with her friends. She tried to stop herself from drudging up more memories, but they came unbidden. Misty started to see his face.

Ash’s face.

She had loved him all those years ago, and he would always have a place in her heart. But Misty knew that they could never be together. It had been to long and they had lost touch. That, and the fact she was married to one mean…

Her train of thought was thankfully broken by the squeal of tires. Feeling the familiar fear well up in her, Misty looked up expecting HIM to show up. Thankfully, the familiar Buick Regal wasn’t the car occupying the space in front of her house. It was a dusty station wagon.

Misty stood up, getting ready to tell them to get out of the driveway. She came down from the porch.

“Hey! You can’t park there!” she started. That’s when the window rolled down.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” Ash Ketchum asked.

Misty covered her mouth in surprise, gasping. Ash came out of the car, along with Brock.

“Misty!” he said, and tried to hug her. She backed up instinctively. The old fear came back to her.

“Leave. Go! You have to get out of here!” she said, wild-eyed and fearful. Ash looked down at her.

“So, that’s the way you greet old friends?” Ash asked bewildered. Brock came over to the other side.

“Misty! What’s wrong?” Brock asked. Misty began to back up, then she started to push them back into the car.

“Please! You have to understand! You have to go!” Misty pleaded. Ash’s face hardened, but Brock looked at her questioningly.

“But, Mist…” Ash began before Brock cut him off.

“Why, Misty? What’s the matter?” Brock asked her. Misty was about to answer, until she heard IT.

“Oh, no. It’s too late,” she said. The Buick Regal pulled up to the curb.

The blue sedan braked and stopped. Misty backed up away from it. It’s occupant came out of the car angrily. He was handsome man, even though his features were twisted in a mask of rage. He was dressed in a black dress pants and shirt, a dark blue vest covering the ensemble. They were tight enough to show off his slightly muscular dancers build and his clenched muscles, but loose enough to allow free range of movement.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU, AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY DRIVEWAY!?!” Rudy Cassen exploded, waving his fists. His face was turning purple and the veins in his head and neck were almost threatening to burst. Brock and Ash backed up.

“Rudy? As in Travoita Island, Rudy?” Ash asked, recognizing him. Rudy paused and squinted, as if trying to remember the pokemon masters face.

“It can’t be… you! Ash Ketchum?” he asked. Ash nodded his head and stuck out his hand.

“It’s been a long time,” Ash said cheerfully. Rudy ignored his hand.

“Not long enough. Now get out! Before I have to kick your ass! AGAIN!” he screamed. Ash backed up, and raised his arms in surrender.

“Ok, man. Just, calm down. You’ll rupture something like that,” Brock said. He turned to Misty.

“I’ll see you around, ok, Misty?” the Pokemon Breeder said, before he went over to his side of the car. Rudy grabbed Misty’s arm roughly.

“No, you won’t!” he shouted. Misty squirmed at the pain he was causing her arm.

“Rudy,” she hissed under her breath. “ You’re hurting me!”

He squeezed even harder. “Good.” Just as he was about to drag her away into the house, Ash grabbed his shoulder.

“She said you’re hurting her. Let her go,” Ash said stone faced. Brock came from his side, and folded his arms. Rudy looked at him. Then he looked at his shoulder.

“Get your hands off of me,” he said.

“Get you’re hands off of her, then I’ll get my hands off of you,” Ash replied.

Grimacing, Rudy let go of Misty’s arm. Bruises already had started to form on it. Misty held it in her other hand.

“Now get off of my property, before I call the cops on you!” Rudy threatened. Ash let go of his shoulder and turned around. Brock followed soon followed.

As soon as the station wagon had pulled away and went down the street, Rudy turned his attention to his wife.

Misty looked at him in horror. “Rudy, please! I tried to get them to leave, I did!” He slapped her across the face, knocking her down. Then looking around to make sure no one saw him, he grabbed her by her long red hair.

“You still haven’t learned, have you? No one makes me look like a fool! Not them, and especially not you, you scrawny little hag!” he shouted at her, as he dragged her into the house. Misty began to beg and scream, but it accomplished nothing.

As soon as they passed through the threshold, Misty could have sworn she saw her life flash before her eyes.

“Rudy, PLEASE! STOP!” she screamed hysterically. HE flung her head down on to the hard wood floor. As she tried to shake the stars out of her vision, Misty saw him fumbling with his belt.

“Oh, please, no! Rudy, please!” she moaned at the top of her lungs. He ignored her, and tore at the fabric of her dress. With a loud rip, he had torn most of the material from her body, leaving her in her bra and panties.

He finally managed to get the belt out of his pants, and raised his hand high in the air.

“I told you what would happen if you don’t do as I say! I told you!” he said, then he brought his hand down, heavily. Misty screamed at the top of her lungs, as the heavy leather came down on her bare flesh.

He did it again, faster. It struck her square in the back and she screamed again. Misty’s screams began to degenerate into loud sobs. Soon Rudy was lost in his frenzy and was whipping her as fast and hard as he could. Misty clung to his pants, begging for him to stop, but nothing seemed to work.

As Rudy raised his arm in the air one more time, Misty closed her eyes, and waited for the pain to come. She heard the sound of the door splintering. Misty opened up her eyes, to see the door knocked off of it’s hinges, and Rudy looking at the intruder.

Correction. Intruders.

With a wild yell, Ash drove his fist deep within Rudy’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. Then he followed up with an uppercut that originated from his ankles. Rudy went down - hard, a tooth flying out along with a bit of blood.

Brock came over to Misty’s side, and hugged her. She cried into his vest - clad shoulder, as Ash looked at the moaning body of Rudy with hate.

“Belt of leather, jaw of glass,” Ash muttered, rubbing his sore knuckles. He turned around to see Misty sobbing in Brock’s arms. Fresh hate welled up in him as he noticed Rudy’s handiwork. Her slender frame was covered in welts and bruises, some from the belt, and others much older.

“Is she-?” ash began, but Brock raised a finger to his lips. Ash nodded his head in understanding. He went to the car and grabbed the cell phone. He punched in three numbers and waited.

“Hello? Yes, I would like to report a case of Domestic Abuse,” he said quietly.

Well I hope this has managed to surprise all you folks. On a more serious note, this here chapters dedicated to the families who go through this. No one, I repeat, NO ONE, deserves to this sort of treatment. Makes you thankful for divorce and restraining orders, no?

Don’t worry it will turn out to be an AAMRN… I’m just warming up! Oh wait… next chapter is * GASP * the last one! Find out what happens… and if you know me, I won’t make it easy for our heroes! You know the drill, all suggestions and comments to Shagti2@aol.com and all flames to Shoveitupyour@ss.com! G’night Gracie!