Page 8 of Fighting Shadows

“I bought a pretty dress for my favorite girl. Do you like it?” he asks, sitting on the floor next to the bath. His fingers dip into the bubbles, the dress forgotten on the floor. Now, his full attention is on me.

My body feels uncomfortable from his attention; my skin feels tight.

“It is pretty,” I say, not wanting him to think I’m not thankful. Mom says I’m ungrateful, and I don’t want to make him mad. Mom gets mad at me all the time, and it always hurts. I don’t want Charlie to hurt me, either.

“You are my favorite girl. You want to stay my favorite, don’t you?” Charlie asks as he grabs the yellow sponge and squirtsmy strawberry shower gel on it, “If you stay my favorite, I can stop your mom from hurting you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please,” I whisper.

“Atta girl,” he says, a broad smile on his face. His eyes stay on my body as he dips the sponge into the water, washing me, and I remain still like a statue.

If I’m good, then Mom won’t hurt me anymore.

If I’m good, then he’ll protect me.

If I’m good…

Age 12…

Chloe’s cries fill the house as Mom screams about how she never wanted kids.

She’s been crying for hours now, the sound high-pitched like a wail as she communicates the only way she can with Mom, begging for food. Mom refuses to feed her until Charlie’s home. Something about him wanting a family and that she only agreed to keep him from leaving.

My heart hurts listening to Chloe’s cries.

Unable to take it anymore, I risk Mom's wrath and tiptoe out of my room and creep into the living room. Mom has hidden herself in her bedroom, the door closed and the box TV up at full volume to drown out the ear-splitting cries.

The cream bassinet sits on the sofa, Chloe’s red and splotchy face from her tears, as she opens her mouth with another heartbreaking wail. As I get closer, it’s obvious she’s filled her diaper, and Mom refuses to change her again.

“Hey baby,” I soothe as I pick her up, cradling her tiny body in my arms, “I’m going to get you cleaned up and then a bottle. Once I figure out how to make one,” I mutter.

Two failed bottles later. I finally perfected the third one. I smile down at her cherubic face as she suckles greedily on the milk.

Just as I’m burping her, her sleepy face is all milk-drunk, and now she’s full. Charlie comes home early, his face visibly confused when he sees me with Chloe and not Mom.

“She was hungry,” is all I say, settling her in my arms so she can sleep. I don’t want her to feel abandoned again.

“You did good, little one,” he kisses my head, stroking his hand over Chloe’s head lovingly before storming upstairs and angrily towards his and mom's bedroom.

The sound of raised voices follows, nearly waking Chloe. Snuggling her closer as she stirs, I stroke my hand up and down her back.

“I will always protect you, Chlo,” I swear to her, even though she doesn’t understand me.

It’s late, but I can’t sleep. The thought of Chlo being so far from me makes me feel uneasy. My bedroom door creaks open, and Charlie’s salt and pepper hair appears before he does.

“Is Chlo ok?” I immediately ask.

“She’s fine, Little One,” he reassures me, sliding something metal onto my nightstand.

“Are you sure?”

“She’s fed and happy, now sound asleep downstairs.”

“Why is she downstairs? Shouldn’t she be in the room with you and Mom?”

“I’m sleeping downstairs tonight, so she’ll be with me,” he scoots onto my bed, pressing his semi-naked body against mine, “You did so well with her today; it made me so happy seeing you be such a good, big sister.”

Charlie turns to face me, his hand resting on my thigh under the nightdress he bought for me. I stay silent, fear clogging my throat.

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