Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I don’t care.
The door creaks, and I know it’s Rebecca. She gets bolder every time. She knows that my father will sit in his office fuming for a while, so she has a little bit of time to come and see if I’m okay. This is the worst he’s hurt me, the absolute worst, and I feel like my body isn’t going to move from the ground. Maybe I’ll die on the ground, just like Mommy did. Maybe we’ll be the same. That’s okay with me.
A cool hand strokes my hair back from my face, and I don’t move, I don’t even look up.
I know it’s her.
“What did you do this time, kid?” she murmurs, dabbing at my mouth with a warm, wet cloth.
“I ran away,” I croak.
“You know you should never run away, your father doesn’t like running away.”
“I was afraid, Rebecca. The man was hurting me, and touching me ...”
Her hand pauses. “Touching you? A man was touching you?”
“Y-y-y-yes.”
“In the places I showed you no one should ever touch you?”
“Yes.”
She makes a strange sound, I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve never heard it before. It sounds a little sad, and maybe a little frustrated. “Then you should run away. You should always run away. Nobody should ever touch you if you don’t want to be touched.”
“But when I run away, Father hurts me.”
She wipes my face, the cloth cleaning up the blood and making it feel less yucky.
“Yes, but one day you’re going to grow big, which is why I always tell you to eat up. And when you’re big, you’ll be able to stand up to him, to make your own choices, to be free.”
“Father says I’ll never be free.”
“But you will, kid. One day, you will fight the monster back. Until then, you have to be strong. There is nothing else out there for you. Nothing but even more monsters.”
I turn and look up at her, my eyes are blurry. “There are more monsters out there?”
“So many more, some of them a lot worse than your father. Like I tell you, you fight the monster you know. Be strong. Be smart. Get bigger. Get smarter. And maybe, one day, you’ll get what you deserve.”
“What do I deserve?” I ask her, as she helps me up from the floor.
“Freedom.”
“Does that mean he won’t be here anymore?”
She nods, lifting my shirt and placing an ice pack on my ribs. I hold it there and slide my shirt back down over it. “That means he won’t be here anymore.”
“And what about you, will you be here?”
She glances around. “I’ll be here for as long as I can. But if I’m not, if I’m not here, you have to always remember what I told you.”
I nod, and the ice is burning my skin, but I know it’ll make it feel better. It always does.
“What is that?” she prompts, holding my eyes.
“That I have to get big.”
“And?”
“Strong.”
“And?”
“And fight the monster.”
“And what else?”
“And never let anyone touch me.”
“And the most important?”
“The most important,” I say softly. “The most important is that I never stop fighting. That I always find my way out, even if I think there is no way, even if I have a big wall in front of me. There is always a way out.”
“Even if you have to what?”
“Blow my way out.” I smile.
She smiles back.
“That’s right, kid. You’ll get past that wall, even if you have to blow your way out. Because on the other side is freedom.”
I nod.
Blow my way out.
Yes, blow my way out I will.
After I finish fighting the monster.
~*~*~*~
NOW – CHARLIE
“How come you never told us about your father?” Scarlett asks me, handing me another drink.
“No offense, but you and I had only just met; I wasn’t about to spill those kinds of details.”
“I know, I just figured after the hit came to light, you might explain more.”
I shake my head. “I don’t really like talking about it.”
“Understandably.” She nods. “I’m really sorry. That’s such a hard life to live. I don’t think I could be as strong as you.”
Strong.
It isn’t a word I’ve ever really used for myself.
Survivor? Sure.
But strong? No.
How am I strong when the monster I was supposed to fight is still out there, still chasing me, still trying to make me suffer?
I’m not strong.
I’m just running.
And hiding.
And doing the best I can, which sometimes I feel is not enough.
“I wouldn’t use those exact words,” I say, sipping my drink, liking that my head is feeling light already. “But thanks.”
“I’d use them,” Amalie says, smiling softly. “I have endured what I thought was a lot, but what you have lived through, that’s something of a whole new level. I could never have gotten through it the way you did. You’re incredible, Charlie. And strong, absolutely strong.”
I give her a grateful and warm smile, but my head is warm from the alcohol, my body fuzzy, and I really need some air. And, if I’m being honest, I don’t want to talk about my father anymore, or the life I lived, or the fact that everybody thinks I’m something I’m not. Because they do. They think I’m some sort of survivor, a warrior, someone who fought through the storms and came out the other side stronger.