it a point to show her the pictures on the walls at least a few times a day. Always stressing who was her mom and dad, and what they looked like so she would know when she saw them again.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Sean since I threw all his money out my door, knowing he would show up when I least expected him too.
To top it all off, Jackson’s words from a month ago still haunted me on a daily basis.
“They were my mom’s.”
The urge to snoop and find answers for myself became a ticking timebomb in my body. It was only a matter of time before my curiosity would get the best of me. I needed answers. I couldn’t go on like this or shake the feeling as if I was being watched.
Now, I know that sounds absolutely absurd.
But was it?
There were things that kept happening that had me not only questioning my sanity, but my patience.
For instance, I was telling Journey the other day how much I loved chocolate and kept forgetting to bring a box of Dove ice cream for her to try. My favorite. The next morning when I came into work, there in the freezer was a box of Dove ice cream.
Or the other time I grabbed the diaper rash cream, realizing it was the one I told Journey about a few days ago. Not her usual brand. This one was gentler on her soft, baby skin.
“How does this keep happening, huh?”
Journey smiled, a huge smile. The kind that lit up the room as if she already knew the answer.
“Are you trying to tell me something? Can you talk and you’ve been playing me for a fool?”
“Gah!” She kicked her chubby legs.
Then there was the obvious. Jackson Pierce completely despised me. Without even trying, I’d become his number one rival, his mortal enemy. I’m talking Tom vs. Jerry, North Korea vs. South Korea, Batman vs. Joker, take no prisoners type of foes.
He was doing everything and anything in his power to get rid of me. The boy put me through the ringer each week with some sort of new war tactic to take me down, and to keep me there. He hated me in every sense of the word, and I knew he wouldn’t stop until he succeeded in executing me indefinitely.
And by that, I meant me quitting.
Journey really was the only ally I had in this house other than Skyler, but she didn’t know what Jackson was doing to me. If I told her, it meant the little shit won, and there wasn’t a chance I was going to let that happen.
Being raised in a house full of kids running around all over the place, I learned a thing or two about retaliation. I’d been through far worse than a demon spawn trying my patience.
My brothers taught me at an early age what survival was. They’d babysit me till my parents got home, pulling stunt after stunt to see what a five-year-old girl could endure. They used to take a large cardboard box laying around and line it with a bunch of pillows. I’d get in, put on my Papa’s motorcycle helmet, and hug my knees to my chest.
I remember being so nervous but wouldn’t voice it, I was tough, and I wanted to prove I could withstand anything. They’d close the box up tight so all I could see was darkness besides a little ping of light coming through a small air hole.
Suddenly, the box would move along the floor beneath me and I’d hear my brothers laugh and whisper, “Hold on tight.”
Next thing I knew, I was flying down a flight of stairs, bouncing side to side. Sometimes even flipping several times, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap of cardboard and pillows.
At least they thought to protect my head, I gave them credit for that. It was their idea of fun, convincing me at the age of five that fear was simply unacceptable. Never back down from anyone.
Ever.
Jackson’s scare tactics never ceased to amaze me, though. I swear they were getting more and more inventive as the weeks went by. His creativity knew no bounds.
The first week it was the YouTube video which he did end up taking down. Only after it already had thousands of views on it.
Although, it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. In the long run, it worked in my favor. When I was bartending at Danté’s club, if I didn’t stay