It’s dark. It’s always dark when bad things happen. But I close my eyes and pray. Mommy says praying is good, and the man in the clouds will look after me. So, I do it every night. It’s cold tonight, and I don’t know when Mommy will come home. I know I’ll hear her when the door opens and closes. She’s loud sometimes. She talks to her friends.
There are always other people in our house as well. They give Mommy and my stepdaddy happy juice to make them smile. I like when my mommy smiles. Daddy, who is actually my stepdad, promised to take me to the park today, but he didn’t come home yet. It’s dark out since it’s bedtime. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.
I don’t understand grownups. They’re confusing when they say one thing and do another. I thought they had to keep their promises, to do things they said they’d do. But they don’t.
My friend at school promises to bring me candy, and she always does. Maybe when you grow up, you don’t have to keep promises, but I don’t like that. It’s rude. I will always keep mine, even when I’m older.
Rolling over, I hold Torrance, my teddy bear. He’s squished in my arms, but even with his fur, he doesn’t help the cold go away. I wonder if Mommy turned the heating off. I should go look.
Normally, when Mommy and Daddy have friends over, I don’t leave my room. She told me not to ever open my door when she has them here, and I’ve obeyed. But it’s cold. Very cold.
Shoving the blankets off me, I stand and head to my bedroom door. It’s so quiet, I figure it’s safe to walk into the living room where the switches for the heating are.
With a creak, I open my bedroom door and pad into the messy living room where there are two sofas, an armchair that Daddy likes to sit in, and a table with bottles and glasses still on it from two nights ago.
A soft sound startles me, coming from Mommy and Daddy’s room. Confusion swirls in my sleepy mind, wondering what that noise could be since Mommy hasn't come home yet. At least, I don't think she did? I make my way through the living room and down the hall to where their room is. The door is open, just a crack, and I peek through the space.
There are candles on the vanity and a large mirror overlooking the bed. I watch as a woman with dark hair sits on her knees. Her eyes are blindfolded and her breasts are bouncy. She looks like she’s smiling. Mommy is sitting in a chair, her eyes on the woman, and then another body appears.
Daddy is home, too, he's under the woman. He’s naked, his chest is hairy, and his stomach is fat, squishing itself against the pretty woman. She looks like my babysitter, the girl who lives down the road.
Her hands are tied behind her back, and Daddy is telling her things. He's saying words I’m not allowed to use. My eyes widen when I see Mommy move behind the girl. She has something in her hand, I can’t tell what it is until she moves her arm, and that’s when the candlelight shines on something metal.
Suddenly, there’s blood everywhere. My hand flies to my mouth, holding in the scream that’s bobbing in my throat. The scene is blurry, I’m crying. I feel the wetness of the tears streaking down my cheeks.
Daddy smiles at Mommy. He tells her she’s good. He tells her other nasty words too. Things only adults say.
I turn and race back to my bedroom, shutting the door so they don’t realize I saw them. I’m under the blankets, clutching onto Torrance when I hear my bedroom door click open.
“She’s asleep,” Mommy’s voice whispers.
“I must've imagined her there,” Daddy says, also in a hushed tone. “We better get cleaned up, my dick is still hard, and I want to finish inside that whore.”
My eyes are shut so tight, white blinks behind my lids as if there are lights flashing on and off. A click of the door sounds so loud, it booms in my ears. My chest aches as my heart attacks my ribs.
I lie in bed silently and pray. I pray like I’ve never prayed before.