room. I hid under the table in the kitchen instead; she can’t see me here.
There’s a loud banging on the door, and I jump, but she opens the door and a man comes in. He’s tall, so, so tall, even taller than my daddy, but I’m not worried because he’s in a policeman’s uniform and everyone knows policemen are good.
He looks at her funny; he looks mean and it makes me scared that he looks at her like that. I hug my knees trying to make myself very small. I don’t want him to see me.
She looks scared now, too. She looks over at the kitchen and her eyes go really big. She sees me now, and she looks mad. He pulls out a small ball with straps from a bag and she says something to him. I can’t hear her, but he looks over to where I am and he smiles. But it’s not a happy smile; it’s a scary smile. I can’t move. I don’t want him to come near me.
“I don’t care. Let the little bitch watch,” he tells her, shoving the ball in her mouth and tying the straps behind her head. Next, he uses the things he carries on his belt, the things they put on bad guys, he puts them on my mommy’s wrists, and now she can’t move or talk. He hits her in her face and she cries; I scream and the man points at me and yells at me not to make any noise. He says he’ll kill me if I ever tell anyone.
My eyes fill with tears, but I’m careful not to make a noise. I nod my head at him and he looks back at Mommy. He spits in her face and she tries to pull away but he’s holding her. He turns her around, shoves her face into the sofa, and pulls her dress up. He rips her panties and then hits her on her bottom. She cries out, but it’s different this time.
He unzips his pants…
“Tori.” I hear my name called from a distance, the fear wracks through my entire body causing me to shake.
“Tori, sweetheart, wake up,” I hear, the sound getting closer. A hand runs through my hair, and I wake up with a start. The dream was vivid; I could almost feel myself back there again. I must not have been more than four years old.
“Baby?”
My eyes focus on Nathan hovering over me, the look of concern on his face apparent.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I must have had a nightmare.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I place my hands on his chest and give a gentle shove silently asking him to let me up. He gives me what I want and I sit up averting my gaze to the window that welcomes the morning sun rays. Nathan places a hand on me, and I freeze momentarily, only to relax when he begins to rub my back.
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Eh, occasionally.”
“Looked pretty bad. You want to tell me about it?”
“I’d rather make breakfast. What are you in the mood for?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m easy to please.”
“How about you stay here and relax. I’ll make us some breakfast and bring it in here.”
“How can I say no to breakfast in bed?”
“Then let's go with that.”
“Okay, but then you’re going to tell me about your nightmare. You don’t have to give it all to me, but I want to know the basics.”
Not knowing how I feel about that, I choose not to say anything at all. When words fail me, I push off the bed and pick up the white silk robe strewn across my chaise lounge to pull on. The kitchen feels like a safer place to be right now as I search the contents of my refrigerator, pulling out eggs, bacon, cheese, onions, and tomatoes—perfect ingredients for an omelet. My mind lingers on the dream I had as I chop the vegetables. Thinking about my mother is never easy—the life she led, the things that she subjected me to. Things that a child should never see and those are the things that have molded me into this person who I sometimes don’t recognize when I look in the mirror.
No more bad memories, I tell myself as I begin whisking eggs. Instead, I let myself think about last night, about how Nathan… Well, it was an amazing night. I could easily find myself becoming addicted to him. In fact, I probably already am because I wouldn’t