Bruises

When you're eight you never really consider the evils in the world, too focused on the latest toy or sheltered in your parents loving embrace. But as I stood under the big blue banners looming shadow, I felt none of that. Instead I was consumed in loneliness and vulnerability, and picking at the blue lace dress I was forced to wear I felt like nothing more than a small Barbie doll, simply a pretty ornament there for display. With a sharp knock on the door I was brought out of my thoughts and ran to the bottom of the stair case training my face into a well-practiced smile, but to anyone who took the time to look my eyes were devoid of emotion, blank. Footsteps soon sounded at the top of the stairs and with each pace my heartbeat accelerated. Then they turned and stopped right in front of me.

"You best behave today Fioré. Unless you want a repeat of last time."

As the words left my father's mouth I nodded, far too scared to say anything. Thankfully another hurried knock interrupted what would be my father's disapproving speech. After one last look, he purposely strode to the double doors and opened it revealing a mass of my father's clients and fellow business men.

"Congratulations on the promotion Joseph, it was well deserved." Said one man I recognized as Mr. Rogers, my father's old boss. You see, my father had just been promoted to CEO of this large executive firm.

"Yes, and it only took two years. Quite a feat if I do say so myself." His chuckle echoing throughout the wide room.

With that he stepped aside and everyone swarmed into the building, some stopping to greet me. Others even going so far as to compliment me when my father was around hoping to gain favor in his company. Little did they know my father couldn't care less what they did to me. Only speaking when spoken to I roamed the halls lost in thoughts of vast fields, enchanted woods and warm sunlight. I always went back to the same dream whenever I was alone with my thoughts. I could still smell the flowers and feel the warmth on my skin. It all seemed so real yet I couldn't remember ever visiting such a place. Suddenly I bumped into one of the women my father had invited causing her to spill her fancy cocktail all over her dress, lose her balance, trip over my small stature, and fall onto the cocktail table.

A collective gasp erupted throughout the room and I immediately wanted to disappear. My father stepped out of the crowd and lifted the women off the table all the while glaring at me.

"I apologize profusely for my daughters mistake, I am sure she was simply distracted by your radiant beauty. Weren't you Fioré?" Running to my father's side I quickly apologized to the women.

"Yes father, I really am sorry miss" as I bowed my head in apology I felt my father's hand grip my shoulder like a vice. Clamping my mouth shut I barely hid the whine that threatened to escape. Eventually my father managed to appease the women with a few well-placed compliments leading her away to one of the bathrooms to clean up. But before he left he turned to me and whispered.

"Get to your room before you screw something else up." Venom lacing each word. As he left I turned and ran to my room, tripping over the stairs in an effort to get away from it all. I pushed open the door and hurried inside, quickly closing it behind me.

As I leaned on the door I tried to calm my beating heart. I imagined running through the fields in my dreams, having the grass tickle my bare feet as I played in the sun. Eventually my mind began to drift and I slumped to the floor suddenly exhausted. My eyes eventually shut as I leaned against the wall dreaming of bright days I couldn't remember.

I woke with a start to the banging outside my door. As I attempted to orient myself the door opened and I found myself staring into the pools of black that were my father's eyes. I sought to find my voice, to move my legs and run, but I couldn't. Fear clouded my heart and blinded me from the danger I knew I was in.