Nalu - The Bad Boy (Book 1)

Her Child Secret

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I put her down once we reached her house and I made her open the door. The fresh smell of blood and rust was the first thing I sensed.

"You really wanna spend a night in a torture chamber?" She asked.

"I'm not letting you sleep in this house alone. Not with all of the things you have access to."

"Wow, not trustworthy at all."

"Of course I trust you... A little."

"Exactly. So, what do you wanna do?"

"What do you normally do?"

"I go upstairs in my room and clean up any new bruises and cuts. And if I didn't get beaten, I'd cut."

"At least you're being honest. You have anything else that you did?"

"Um... Sorta, but its still a little grim."

"Then tell me what it is."

"Follow me. It's upstairs behind the bookcase." She said, leading me upstairs and to a tall bookcase at the end of the hall. She push on one side and made it creak open.

"It's the way to the second attic. My dad never knew about it though because I put this here. I didn't want him knowing about my one hiding place in this house." She said, walking up some more stairs.

Once we got to the top, I saw a nice mini room, filled with books, dolls, paintings, and a torn up black and white picture. There was a small window that had a small golden rose next to it.

"These are all of the dolls my mom gave me when she was alive. These paintings are the ones she drew. This golden rose was crafted by my dad for my mom. And this..." She said, lifting the torn pieces of the picture so I could see better.

"This was a picture of my loving mother, caring father..."

Then she lifted a piece with a little girl in a wheelchair and medical tubes wired in her.

"That's me. Born with lungs that were too small for my body, plus asthma. I needed machines to help me breathe, and I could hardly walk because of it. But when I needed help, my dad was there. When one of my air tanks ran out, I'd scream out of fear. I thought that I would run out of air and die, but my dad was always prepared and came running to my rescue. Yeah, that was my dad. I'm technically supposed to still have inhalers, but I don't." She explained, holding back tears that I knew she wanted to let out.

"So, when I have free time, I would come up here and admire my dolls, count how many people walk down this street per day. Count how many bottles my dad would bring out of his car. Which reminds me." 

She then started digging through a box, pulling out a lock pick.

"He still has my first doll my mom gave me, and that's my most precious one, because I would always have it whenever I had an operation. I named it Plue!" She said, smiling a real smile.

We started walking back and picked her dads lock open. Inside, was disgusting.