Bang

With a low, stern voice, his demand comes. “Take your clothes off.”

 

My heart slams down into the pit of my stomach as my body shivers. I’m frozen. I can’t respond, so I just stand there. The air is still until Carl repeats harder, “Take your clothes off. All of them.”

 

I snap my head over to Pike, and he’s now looking straight at me. I know I should be terrified by the tears on his cheeks and the look of sorrow in his eyes. Without even blinking, I feel my own tears roll out effortlessly. Shaking my head in confusion, Pike gives me a nod that tells me I need to obey.

 

My jittery hands slowly go to the hem of my shirt, and when I grip the fabric, a pained cry rips out from my constricted throat. It echoes off the concrete walls and floor. Pinching my eyes shut, I slip my shirt off and over my head and then hold it over my chest, even though I haven’t grown breasts yet.

 

“Pants,” he orders.

 

I don’t look at him. My eyes remain closed as I unzip my jeans and push them down my legs and step out, still clinging the shirt to me.

 

“Drop it.”

 

The ice in his voice frightens me, so I open my fingers and let it drop to the ground.

 

“Good girl,” he says and I can hear the smile that wears his words. “Now your underwear.”

 

God, if you’re real, please help me.

 

Stepping out of my underwear, I attempt to cover myself with my arms and hands as I stand there. And when I finally open my eyes, that’s when Carl speaks.

 

“Have you ever seen a dick before?” he asks as he opens his fly and tugs his pants down. His is the first I have ever seen and my throat burns with the bile that creeps up.

 

“You ever touched one before?”

 

My tears are heavy, and I can’t hold back the sobs any more, pleading, “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything.”

 

“Anything?”

 

My cries are loud when he makes his demand, “This is what I want. You’re gonna let Pike fuck you while I watch. You do that for me, I won’t lay a hand on you.”

 

I shake my head vigorously, not understanding what he means, and when I look over at Pike, he stands for a moment before taking the two steps towards me, quietly saying in a choked voice, “You don’t want him touching you.”

 

My head won’t stop shaking, and I can’t stop crying as I try to stammer out, “I d-don’t know what he w-wants.”

 

He releases a defeated sigh when he tells me, “He wants us to have sex.” When he reads my confusion, he asks, “You know what that is?”

 

“I th-think so. I mean . . . I d-don’t, umm . . .” I can’t get my words out through the terror that’s stabbing me from the inside. I’ve heard of sex. I know of sex. I just don’t understand what it is exactly.

 

“On the mattress!” Carl’s voice booms, causing me to startle.

 

In a hushed voice, Pike begs, “Please don’t be scared of me,” as he takes my hand and walks us over to the stained mattress on the floor.

 

“Lie on your back,” he says, all his words in whispers so that only I can hear. He takes off his underwear before lying on top of me and my helpless cries fill the room. He lowers his mouth to my ear and quietly talks to me, saying, “It’s gonna be okay. Don’t even look at him. You don’t have to look at me, but please promise me you won’t look at him.”

 

I nod my head against the side of his head so that he can feel my response.

 

His last words to me before I lose every last piece of hope that somehow life will be okay are, “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.”

 

 

 

 

 

MY LIFE CONTINUES to be a wasteland. It’s simply pointless to even try to see the good in anything anymore. I’m now twelve years old. The only hope I’ve been clinging to is that in two years, I’ll get my dad back. But that hope turned to ash and dust when my caseworker stopped by yesterday.

 

“Only two more years,” I said, and with a confused look, she asked, “What happens in two years?”

 

“I get my dad back,” I told her. “I can go home.”

 

She seemed annoyed when she shook her head and sighed, “That’s not how it works.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The state terminated his rights to you. When he gets out, you don’t get to go back home. He’s not allowed to have any contact with you.”

 

My face heated in pure white anger when she added, “This is your home—here—with Carl and Bobbi.”

 

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