The Decameron 2.0

Day 3.3 Fear - YOU'RE FOREVER HOME TharronSkylor

Blue and red flashing lights are reflecting off the windshield. You started to panic for a moment, tossing your arm over the seat and forcing my head down.

"Stay quiet," you told me, as you tossed a jacket over my body. "Good baby, Mommy will protect you." I couldn't move, even if I wanted to. You hid me on the floorboard between two seats with my arms tied behind my back, my mouth taped shut, and my feet bound together.

A light knock on the driver's side window grabbed my attention. His muffled voice became clear after you rolled the window down a few inches. Bright lights panned through the car windows, radio chatter just on the other side of the doors. You told the officers you were on your way home from a church event. Your voice was so calm and melodic. I heard you share a laugh with the officers.

"Have a wonderful night miss," said one of the men before you rolled the window back up and drove off.

That was days ago.

I'm not sure how long I've been in this room. This small, dark room. The smell of mothballs has become all too familiar, no longer burning my nostrils. I've been using a trash bag filled with old clothes as a pillow. My tears form streams and pools in the folded creases of the bag. Everyday, twice a day like clockwork you bring me food. Not much, but enough. Bread, rice, and chocolate pudding.

You tell me, "Good baby, Mommy will protect you."

You're not my mom.

The Man comes to see me once a day. He sings to me, holding me in his lap and stroking his fingers through my hair. My body trembles at his touch.

I'm so scared.

Can I go home now?

I spend my days thinking about my parents. My brother Kyle. My dog Mayhap. They have to miss me. Right? They'll come looking for me, and they'll find me. I hope.

Only a child, I always ask my parents questions. My mother would always respond with a single word until she talked to my father. "Mayhap," she would say. I never knew what that word meant, but she said it so much, we named our dog that, and it stuck.

It's been so long since I've seen the sunlight. The warmth is a distant memory, too far out of reach.

I hear you walking around upstairs. The creaks in the floorboards force the occasional chunks of dust and dirt to fall to the floor in front of me, dissolving in the thin layer of water on the cracked concrete.

I'm so much weaker now. You can see my ribs. I've woken up coughing, pieces of my dirty blonde hair gathered around me. My hair falling to the floor as I run my fingers through it.

I'm so scared.

Can I go home now?

I can barely stand up. My body is always shaking and the room is so blurry. The Man is here, but he's not singing. Tears fall from his eyes as he holds me, tighter and tighter. He's hurting me. The Man grabs my pillow and forces it over on my face. I can't breathe. He's still crying. I'm too weak to fight back. My arms go limp, my chest is on fire, slowly burning out. I no longer feel the pain.

"You're forever home," says The Man as I drift off to sleep.