Page 8 of Don't Speak
CHAPTER SEVEN
Seven years old
It’s Saturday morning, and all the best cartoons are on. Throwing my blanket off my body, I excitedly jump out of bed and head for the living room. Turning on the TV, I pick my favorite cartoon—Courage the Cowardly Dog.
Tip-toeing to the kitchen so I don’t wake up Mommy and Sean, I pour myself a bowl of cereal. My favorite right now is Lucky Charms. I don’t tell Mommy that I mostly just pick out the marshmallows. If I did, she’d probably stop buying it.
Quietly making my way back to the living room, I pull the top of the coffee table up toward me, place my bowl down, and slide onto the couch.
Fifteen minutes later, I finished my bowl of cereal and the episode of my show.
That’s okay though, because up next is Dexter’s Laboratory.
I push the coffee table back down and sit back on the couch, pulling the blanket over me and snuggling with Bode, our dachshund.
He’s my best friend, and we’ve grown up side by side.
Another ten minutes pass, and I hear the door to my parents’ room open. Sean is the only one who walks out, making his way toward me from down the hall. He never wears a shirt in the house, always wearing just his boxers. I think it’s gross.
He and my mom got married six months ago. He makes me call him Daddy, even though I already have a dad. He gets angry when I don’t. I hate it. I hate it so much, but Mommy says I have to or else he’ll get mad. I’ve seen Sean when he gets mad, and he’s evil.
Sean walks over to the couch and sits down next to me. “Good morning, Nikki.”
“Good morning, Daddy,” I respond, the word feeling icky in my mouth. I shift in my seat, trying to scoot further away.
He doesn’t say anything else to me. He just sits there, staring at me.
I get lost back in my cartoon, laughing when Dexter’s sister always ruins his experiments and destroys his lab. I start to readjust myself on the couch to get more comfortable when a quick movement catches my eye.
I freeze. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know it’s wrong. I shouldn’t be able to see that. Mommy always said boys shouldn’t see girl parts and girls shouldn’t see boy parts, so why does he have his boy part out of his underwear?
My heart starts racing, and I’m starting to feel sick. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want this. Tears start to form in my eyes, and my throat feels like I have a rock stuck in it. Does Mommy know? Where is she? Why isn’t she awake? Why is he doing this? I think I should go get Mommy.
I start to get up, but I’m quickly pulled back down to the couch. “Ouch. That hurts. You’re hurting me, Daddy,” I tell him, suddenly feeling something I don’t feel too often. I’m scared.
“Shh. Don’t speak. You will stay on this couch and do as I say.
If you scream or tell your mom, I will kill you, and if your mom finds out, I’ll have to kill her, too.
You wouldn’t want Mommy to get hurt, would you?
” he questions me, and suddenly, the tears that had formed start spilling over uncontrollably.
I simply shake my head in response, frozen in place.
“Good. Now sit.”
Doing as he says, I sit back down on the couch, his boy part still hanging on the outside of his underwear. I close my eyes and look away, knowing Daddy is about to make me do something bad. I wipe the snot running down my nose with the back of my hand.
“Now,” he starts, grabbing onto his private and making it stand straight up, “put your mouth on it.”
My face scrunches up, and my heart is beating so fast I feel like it might explode. I don’t know what to do other than to obey, so I do, endless tears streaming down my face.
When it’s over, I run to my room, seeking comfort in my closet with my stuffed animals. Bode follows me in and cuddles up to me, attempting to lick the tears from my face. I hold onto him and sob in the comfort of the darkness that my closet brings me. No one can get me here.
I feel gross. Icky. Flashes of what he made me do dance across my mind, and I scrub my tongue with the back of my hand, crying harder. What did I do wrong? Why did he make me do that?
I hope he never makes me do that again.