Page 20 of Don't Speak
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ten years old
I walk through the front door, my dad having just dropped me off. It was his weekend, and even though I always have a ton of fun when I’m with him, I’m happy to be home. I miss my mom and my dogs.
It’s late, so I make sure to open the door quietly, just in case my mom is asleep on the couch.
I told her when I was on the way, so she knew I was coming home.
Closing the door behind me, I walk to the living room to check and see if anyone is awake.
There’s no sign of anyone, so I make myself a snack and sit down on the couch.
I remember watching my favorite movie on the VHS player before I left, and I want to watch it again before bed.
Suddenly, my parents’ door opens, and the last person I want to see walks out. Dressed in nothing but boxers, my stepdad makes his way to the kitchen and grabs himself a beer. Expecting my mom to walk out shortly after, I go ahead and turn on my movie—Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island.
Only… what pops up on the TV is not my movie.
What is this?
What are they doing?
I don’t like this. This isn’t right.
I try to get up to take out the movie, but he stops me. “Leave it.”
No. Not again. I know this all too well.
Every scream raging inside of me dies in my throat. Why won’t my mother just get up and walk out here?
She must be drunk again. He only does this when he knows he won’t get caught.
“Give me your hand,” he demands, uncaring of the streams of tears rolling down my face, his threats playing on constant repeat from all the other times. “Shh. Don’t speak.”
I do as he says, drifting to a place in my mind I know all too well. A place I feel safe. No one can hurt me here. My life is not supposed to be like this.
Wiping my hand and himself with a tissue once he’s finished, I’m finally released from the monster’s grip, running off to my room and shutting myself in the closet, and the familiar comfort of the darkness embraces me with open arms. The tears fall uncontrollably until, finally, I drift into a sleep I wish would be permanent.