The Boy In The Window

Chapter 2: Hello?

“CASSANDRA MARIE ALLEN, GET YOUR ASS DOWN STAIRS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” I jumped up, wondering where I was, until I--sort of-- remembered last night. Shit, mom probably went to get breakfast or whatever and noticed that three brownies were gone.

Ugh, my head hurt like a bitch. I slowly got up and walked downstairs, trekking into the kitchen.

“Yes?” I stared at my mother, who was holding the half empty plate of brownies in her hand, and was sporting a very angry expression on her face.

“What the hell is this?” she yelled, shoving the brownies in my face.

“A plate of brownies.” I said.

“Yes, and why are there three of them missing?” she questioned, stepping closer.

“I don’t know, why?” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes to hide the fear.

“You ate them, you little bitch! Do you know how much those cost?!” she shrieked. I took a step back. When my mom was like this, you did not want to be near her. I looked into her eyes and noticed that they were majorly blood shot. She was drunk, on top of it all. Lovely.

“Yeah, and you know what I found out?” I challenged. “I found out that my mother and her boyfriend are fucking druggies!”

Mom’s eyes went wide before pure rage filled her features.

“YOU BITCH!” she slapped me across the face, hard, dropping the brownies onto the floor. I stumbled back and hit the counter. Mom advanced, holding her hand high before slapping me again. She pulled me away from the counter and slammed me harshly against the wall.

“No, stop, mom, please stop!” I begged as she punched me in the stomach. She just continued punching me, slapping me, clawing at me. I slid to the floor, curling into a ball and hoping she would stop. But she just started to kick me as well as hit me. All of a sudden, I felt a cold, hard something break over the back of my head. Then I felt blood trickling down the side of my face, mixing with the tears.

“John, help me out here.” I heard my mom say distantly. Footsteps sounded next to my ear before a heavy boot was planted violently onto my back.

“What do you want to do with her?” he asked. His voice was muffled. Everything sounded far away, but I could still feel every bit of pain. Why wasn’t I falling unconscious? My thoughts were interrupted by another kick, then another, and another.

“I want to make her pay for the shit she did. Did you see that half the brownies were gone? She had them. Wasted them, she didn’t even know what they were.” Her voice got closer as she said the next few words. “Worthless piece of shit.”

“And how are we gonna make her pay?” there was a sadistic note in John’s voice that sent chills down my spine.

“You know how we will, love.” I felt my body being dragged up the stairs, but other than that, I couldn’t hear any more. Everything was muffled beyond understanding. I felt something soft beneath me, a bed.

Wait. A bed? Oh, god. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, god, please no. I was still a virgin! I prayed John wouldn’t take the little bit of innocence I had left away. I felt a few more punches meet my body before someone ripped my shirt off, then my bra. I cried, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg them to stop. Next went my pants and my underwear.

Oh, god, they’re going to do it. Well, John was. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t hear anything but muffled sounds, but I sure as hell could feel. I wanted to scream when I felt John enter me, running his hands all over my body. I struggled to gain control of myself, but nothing came. All I could do was wait; wait for him to stop and leave. For the next few hours, I silently screamed until I couldn’t think anymore.