1. Chapter 1 by CooperDay8
2. Chapter 2 by CooperDay8
I don't own Jim, Karen, or the Office!!! I just like to take them out and play every now and then :)
She could never find the right person to get close to. Men struck fear in her heart. A few months ago, going home meant walking into situations that twisted her stomach into such tight knots her abdomen would ache so bad she couldn’t sleep. But why sleep? Why sleep when as soon as your eyelids slipped shut you were jolted awake by intense nightmares that left your body trembling with suppressed sobs. Somehow she was able to keep her composure at work. Even as her ribs burned with every breath she took. Even though her belly was decorated with bruises and dread about the end of the day lying constantly on her mind.
The guy with the wayward smile and messily parted hair came into her life two days after she said no more. Vowed not to shed anymore tears. She wanted to permit time for her cuts to heal. The ones skewed into her side and the ones that were forever etched into the slate of who she was as a person. His name was Jim. Just another guy. With hands capable to love. But equally as capable to hurt and draw blood. Just another guy. There were days when she didn’t feel so optimistic on the outcome of her life. The day she met Jim was one of them. She was still vulnerable and hurt. Everything was making her jump. What if he came looking for her?
“Hi…I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jim.”
Her head snapped up at the disturbance. He looked awkward, swaying a little on the balls of his feet. He held a small briefcase underneath his arm, his blue tie perfectly straight around his neck, standing out against his white button up. His free hand extended towards her. She took it gently.
“Karen.”
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There was a certain intensity about her Jim had trouble ignoring. He saw a flicker of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on shine behind her eyes. Her hands were always busy. Typing steadily behind him. Fidgeting nervously with the hems of her sweaters. She was always fretting with those sweaters. Barely 3 days after they had met he was left puzzled by her.
One day they ended up in the kitchen at the same time. Jim reached out for the handle of the coffee pot just as Karen had took hold of it. Her hand snapped away quickly as if the pot had become extremely hot.
“Sorry,” Jim apologized awkwardly. “Go ahead.”
“No…its fine,” Karen said softly, shaking her head and self consciously pulling the sleeves of her sweater farther over her sore arms. He poured the coffee clumsily, a majority of it ending up on the counter. She smirked as his head fell back and a sigh escaped his lips.
“One of those days huh?”
“Yeah,” Jim smiled. “One of those days.”
One of those days where all he could think about was how much he missed Pam and how lonely life was becoming without the bright-eyed receptionist.
“Me too,” Karen patted his arm in condolence. “One of those days.”
One of those days where all she kept envisioning was her ex-boyfriend barging through the door of their office in a rage. Him taking a handful of hair from her low ponytail and screaming about how much of mistake leaving him had been. She feared he’d come back and kill her.
“Are you on break?” he asked, taking a slow sip from his cup.
“For a few more minutes yeah. Why?” Karen lifted an eyebrow curiously. She crossed her arms over her chest but regretted it as soon as her sore muscles began searing in protest. She let them fall gingerly at her sides.
“Would you like to get some air with me?”
The invitation seemed innocent enough.
“I don’t know…,”
"Come on. You’ve been staring out that window all day.” Karen could feel her ears begin to burn a little. Had she been looking out the window all day? She averted her eyes a little, ignoring the empty Styrofoam cup she held in her hand.
“Okay,” she agreed.
It was just air after all. Maybe it would actually do some good.
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It was out there on the cold sidewalk where Jim first noticed a bruise. He was watching as Karen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She failed to remember her sweater sleeve as it slid down just enough to reveal her naked wrist, a dark purple fading into colors of lighter purple and shades of yellow.
“Ow,” Jim half laughed in astonishment as he took Karen’s arm. She quickly tugged away, mortified that he had seen. She tugged so hard on her sleeve her shoulder was exposed for half a second. “What happened?”
“Oh…those stupid desks. You know how close together they are. I just wasn’t paying attention one day and ran into it,” she laughed it off as she’d grown accustom to doing.
Jim stared at her with solemn eyes, nodding his head.
“Klutz,” he teased, pushing her a little. She smiled, lightly pushing him back.
He didn’t believe her for a second.
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Over the next few days Karen kept catching herself taking pained glances out the window. She knew she was doing it because every time she did she half expected to see Rich down in the parking lot.
Karen met Rich their senior year of high school. He was the guy all the girls wanted to go out with. Initially Karen had been confused as to why he chose her over all the preppy rich girls that seemed so much more his type. Karen wasn’t anywhere near that. She was the sporty girl, soccer in the fall, tennis in the spring and still with energy left over to play softball in the summer and spend time as a cheerleader during varsity football games. She knew that deep down if it hadn’t been for the cheerleading then he wouldn’t have given her a second glance.
Things had been great at first. Long walks in the park, sweet whispers about how he wanted to get married and have her bear his children. It was like all the things she had ever read about in fairy tales. Things that proved too good to be true.
Karen had been out with her girlfriends one night and had forgotten to call Rich. Just an innocent mistake. Besides, she didn’t have to let him know where she was every second of the day right? The first time he hit her she was too much in shock to do anything but hit him back. She remembered the anger lay so heavy on her chest she thought she was going to pass out. Rich shoved her to the floor and said she was a stupid bitch that didn’t deserve him. She went to school with red marks on her face and the counselor called her parents. She dubbed it an accident that happened during tennis. No one seemed it necessary to question it any further. Rich called her, crying, a few days later, weeping about how out of line he was and begging for her forgiveness. He was the love of her life. There wasn’t any reason not to forgive him.
As time went on Rich became further unattached from Karen and when she caught him kissing another cheerleader behind the stadium one night after a game, she broke up with him. He hadn’t ever touched her after that night where he had thrown her to the ground. Pretty soon Karen erased the incident from her memory all together.
Sometime after her 22nd birthday Rich called her and they talked for hours. He told her how foolish he had been back in school. So they started going out again. High school sweethearts. Life was good. But steadily Rich started to mold back into the terror he had once been. He started hitting her. Sometimes without even any reason. Karen was surprised by his actions but even more surprised by her own. She didn’t do anything about any of it. Soon she became too afraid to speak. Work was her only place of solace. The only place where she could devise plans to get out of the predicament she was in.
She never went through with any of them. She found needles strayed around her apartment. Bags of white powder stashed in the most innocent places. The cookie jar. Weaved underneath shoelaces. That had been it. Karen stood up to him. Screamed her throat raw and cried her eyes dry. Told him that he was ruining her life. He left with no questions. Didn’t even pass a glance her way as he packed up his things and left. It was this that kept Karen stealing glances out the window during the day. It had been too simple.
And she knew he was coming back.
Karen woke up again for the 3rd time, her heart hammering against her ribcage. She sat up and knew trying to sleep anymore would be a waste of time. She flung her comforter off her legs and shivered a little as the cold assaulted her almost immediately. She stared down at her legs. Bruises on her thighs. Some bigger then others. Sometimes she felt like a kid finding shapes in the clouds when she looked down at her battered body. She was grateful that she had been so active growing up. Her body seemed very tolerant to the abuse it underwent.
She was usually able to catch up on her sleep on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. The only time she was normally able to sleep was during the day. At night she only managed to sleep 10 to 15 minute intervals at a time before waking up in a familiar panic.
The kitchen floor was cold against her bare feet and she was having trouble making sense of the lack of dishes in her cabinets. She froze when her eyes rested on the spot near the toaster where her cookie jar used to be. Her ears began ringing with the screams, all the hatred of that night flooding back. Who kept heroin in the cookie jar? Only Rich could be that stupid. Opening her fridge she wasn’t too surprised to find it scarce. Half a gallon of milk, some unopened mayonnaise, an empty beer can. Karen carefully took it out of the fridge and deposited it in the recycling bin near the trash can. It has started out as a mini project she started to get a few extra dollars. Recycling that is.
She remembered thinking when she was young she would probably be famous one day and make a lot of money. She thought she was pretty. And continued with that sort of wonderful self confidence all through high school. She knew it was probably this sort of confidence that ultimately set Rich off. When he started hitting her it meant he was ready to prove her wrong. He had done a good a job.
She didn’t feel so pretty anymore.
~**~
Rumors started flaring up that the Stamford branch was closing. Not that it came as a completely huge surprise to Karen. Though she felt herself getting close to Jim and wasn’t really ready to say goodbye quite yet. She needed to spend more time with this guy. The feelings were confusing. Karen usually brushed men off in fear of this exact predicament. She knew she was too vulnerable. She knew she hadn’t seen the last of her abuser.
Maybe it was because Jim had been so quick to be her friend. She wouldn’t lie; he was a really likeable person. He made her want to play again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had wanted to play. She never thought she’d be doing crazy things like spending a whole entire work day looking for a bag of chips. The night Karen took her new, very drunk, friend home was the night she realized how much she missed being young. She was still only in her mid twenties but felt she had grown up far too quickly. He laid out in the backseat of her car making sounds and flicking her elbow as she drove.
“No Jim.”
She felt like she might has well have been scolding a flower pot.
“Your so taaaan,” he noted, drawling his words as to be expected from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Karen caught herself smirking.
“Thanks Jim…I think anyway.”
“Karen?” he started in a questioning tone. She hit the brakes at a stoplight and his un-seatbelt-ed body lurched forward a little.
“Yes?” she pushed him backwards while they were still stopped. “Put your seatbelt on.”
Jim fumbled with it for a couple seconds before ruling it not worth the effort in his drunken state.
“Where did those bruises come from?”
The question caught her slightly off guard. She tried to remember he wasn’t fully there. As the car started rolling again and Jim hit the back of her seat the smirk returned.
“Softball,” she answered simply. “Where do I turn Jim?”
“Their not from softball!” he hiccupped. “You told me you hit your arm on the desk.”
“I did,” she said, enjoying far too much toying with him. He stared at the back of her neck.
“Turn left at the next light,” he instructed, leaning his forehead against the cool glass of his window. He paused for another second. “You don’t play softball.”
“Yes I do,” Karen pulled into neighborhood. “Which one?”
“Third one...on the left.” Jim seemed more a little more aware now. But as Karen parked the car near the curb he started moaning. She turned around to look at him.
“You are not puking in this car Halpart.”
He moaned and she got out, opening his door. He fell out onto her and she helped steady him against her shoulder.
“I miss Pam,” he said softly.
“What?” Karen asked, walking him to the door. “Who’s Pam?”
“A girl,” Jim moaned. “I left her in Scranton.”
“Ohhhh,” Karen laughed a little. “No worries. If this branch closing comes through then you’ll probably be headed back to Scranton Jim. Do you have any keys?” Jim fished his key ring out of his pocket and handed them to her. She put the key in the lock and turned the knob, a sense of relief washing through her as she stared into the quiet darkness of his home. “You going to be okay Halpert?”
Jim stared at her with hazy eyes, hiccupping lazily before detaching himself from her arm.
“Thanks,” he took a long breath, stepping through the front door. “You won’t tell anybody?”
Karen just smirked.
“Who am I going to tell? Andy?”
“Please?” he was using the door frame to steady himself now and Karen knew it was time to say good night.
“I’m not going to tell anybody. Just take care of yourself alright?” she turned and started heading down the walkway, back to her car.
“Karen.”
She turned around and met his gaze.
“If they offer you a job in Scranton you should take it. You’d be really good. I like spending time with you.” All the words came slow and deliberate as if Jim’s mind was chewing on every one before it allowed him to say them. The drunken haziness was slowly ebbing, making way for an excruciating headache. She couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll think about it Halpert.”