The leaves rustled around the minute he walked in. I couldn’t see him yet, but my heart speed up non-the less.
“Hello my Beautiful.” He chuckled.
I knew better than to answer. No answer meant punishment, but answering meant it would be worse. The one time I did, oh I will never forget…
..”I didn’t you to talk.” He spit thru his teeth; “you know better than to disobey me.”
I heard him stomp over to me. Felt the bruise that would later come, from him grabbing my arm. Heard the water running, the ice-cubes going in. Felt the coldness, the loss of air to my brain, as he held me under. I could feel myself thrashing around; he kept me under till right before I passed out. He did this over and over; I had stopped screaming long ago. The last time he brought me up he screamed at me that I would never disobey him again. He then shoved me in my room/shed. I didn’t see, hear, eat, or drink anything for two days. I now know not to answer when he talks anymore….
“Ah what’s wrong, cat got your tongue.” He laughs
Inside my head I am screaming at him, calling him every name I could imagine, begging him to let me go, telling myself I can survive, I have for eight years now. Outside I am perfectly still, no sound, no motion.
Charlie starts our day. He opens my room/shed, drags me to the bedroom, the dreaded place. It’s Monday today so I get to eat after our hour in that room. Then I sit in the chair, bringing him what he wants, going over to him when it’s me he wants. That’s my life now. I have been with Charlie for eight years now. In the beginning it was better he actually treated me like I was his own little girl. Seven is too young to do anything, he would say. It started when I was nine, that’s when it all started happening. I still miss my parents; still remember the day Charlie took me from the park, where my mom was five feet away on the phone. I was getting used to it though, I didn’t mind leaving here that much, until I turned nine.
Now I am sixteen and Charlie wants a baby, to add to “our perfect little family” he calls it. I don’t know what to do. How could I bring a baby into the world of Charlie, when I can’t stand to be in this world? How do I keep from getting pregnant long enough to get away from him. I need to get away; I need to get a normal life for myself. I will find a way; I must find a way out.