Page 7 of Fighting Shadows

This one seems nice.

Maybe he’ll help me.

Age 10…

“Hey, little one,” Charlie smiles widely from the sofa; Mom passed out next to him from drinking too much again. She does that more now that Charlie is here.

“Hi, Charlie,” I say softly, avoiding looking at him too much. I'm scared that he’ll see the winces I try to hide every time I move. Mom says I can’t tell anyone but that every mom hits their children when they are naughty. My classmates don’t look like they have sore sides; they don’t wince when they move, but maybe they are good. Maybe their moms don’t get mad at them for asking for food; maybe I’m just bad.

“No smile for me today?” he asks with a frown. He pushes himself up from the sofa and approaches me, caging me by the kitchen worktops. The painted red door clicks shut behind him. “Why is my favorite girl sad?”

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile to try to get him to back off.

Mom hit me badly last night, and my side hurts a lot. Breathing hurts, too but I don’t tell him, scared he’ll do the same.

“Now, we don’t lie to people we love, do we? So please tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll see if I can fix it for you. That’s what I do, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to make Mom mad.”

“It’ll be our little secret,” he leans down and whispers into my ear, his lips brushing against my skin as he inhales.

“Mom hit me, and I’m sore,” I tell him, hoping he believes me.

Mom's other boyfriends never did, and I learned I couldn’t trust anyone when they would run straight to her and tell her what I said, then laugh when she punished me for it.

“Oh, little one, I’m sorry. How about I run you a bubble bath? It will help with the pain.”

“Yes, please,” I reply, my voice sounding breathless because it hurts to breathe.

“You got it. Get yourself a snack from the fridge. I bought the string cheese just for you, and then I’ll come to get you when your bath is ready. Don’t worry about your mom; she’s going to be out all night,” Charlie reassures me.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“Anything for my little girl,” he whispers against my forehead, pressing his lips against my skin.

“Bath’s ready,” Charlie appears with my favorite blue fluffy towel in his arms, “come on,” he says, holding his hand out for me to take.

He leads me to the bathroom, turning my head back to look at my mom, who is still passed out on the sofa.

“Is she ok?” I ask him.

I know she’s mean to me and doesn’t like me for some reason, but I still love her. I worry that she won’t wake up one day, and then I’ll be all alone.

Nobody wants me around.

Dad and Brenn told Mom to leave with me, that everything was my fault, and they didn’t want to look at my ugly face anymore.

“She’s fine, little one. She just drank too much of her special drink, and it made her super sleepy,” he says, “now get in the bath; it will help with the soreness.”

“Ok, thank you, Charlie.”

I hold the towel to my body as he leaves, dread pooling in my stomach when I think of how much it’s going to hurt, taking my clothes off.

Just as I’m stepping into the bath, the bubbles clinging to my skin. The bathroom door swings open, making me squeak in surprise. Charlie walks in, his eyes roaming over my body.

I hurry into the water as quickly as I can, wincing when my side twinges from my rushed movements. I don’t have boobs yet, but I cover my flat chest with my hands, not wanting him to see me naked.

Charlie licks his lips, shrugging sheepishly as he holds up a baby-pink dress.

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