Page 109 of Let the Game Begin

“I said smile,” she ordered, irritated because I never listened to her. I hated it when she gave me orders, and she never tolerated my attempts at disobedience.

I was sitting on the Persian carpet in the living room drawing, and I gave her a serious look. With an angry motion, she launched the camera at me and I flinched. She regularly had angry outbursts that she couldn’t seem to control, and I always tried to hide how much she scared me then.

“You are such a spoiled, stubborn kid.” She sat down huffily on the couch, spreading her legs wide. She was wearing a tight shirt and an extremely short skirt. Short enough that I could see her white panties underneath it.

She caught me looking between her thighs and grinned. I’d never been a particularly brazen kid, but Kim was teaching me to become one.

“What’re you looking at?” she asked, as I hastily went back to my drawing.

“Nothing,” I answered, refusing to turn back in her direction.

“Little perv,” she chuckled, blowing a big bubble with her chewing gum.

I began to experience all the usual awful sensations: anxiety, trembling hands, heart racing in my chest. I shifted uncomfortably in my shorts. At thetime, I couldn’t tolerate wearing my underwear. Kim’s attentions had irritated my groin and caused redness on my genitals, but I’d never told my mother about it.

I was too ashamed.

“Do you want to play?” she asked then, amused. That was what she always proposed. Kim loved to play; I didn’t.

I didn’t like the games she played. I didn’t like the things she did to me. I didn’t like the way she looked at me or touched me.

I shook my head slowly and continued drawing. I was trying to draw a vase, but I couldn’t concentrate.

“Cat got your tongue? Come on—answer me,” she urged impatiently. She got up from the sofa and came toward me. The floor seemed to vibrate with every step she took, and my heart sank as the familiar fear twisted through my body. I wasn’t brave enough to look up at her. Instead, I stared at her white ankle socks and the flat black shoes that matched the rest of her outfit.

“What do you want to do instead? Watch that stupid cartoon again? The Peter Pan one?”

Suddenly, I no longer saw anything at all. I just heard her voice, mocking me the way she always did.

“It’s my favorite,” I answered in a shaky voice.

“For real?” she said in mock surprise. “I don’t give a shit.”

She knelt down to look me in the face, and only then did I look into her eyes.

They were gray. Cold. Cruel. Dangerous.

“I don’t want to play with you.” I continued to be stubborn even though I always knew how it would end.

Kim was going to win. She always won.

“I’ve got a lot of things in mind. I need to get you ready.” She reached out and pushed a curl off my forehead. Then she smiled as she stared fixedly at my lips.

“Get ready for what?” I managed to ask, trying to ignore how my soul splintered every time she touched me.

“When you’re ready, I’m going to introduce you to some people. They’ll be your new friends,” she continued, petting my hair, and I smacked her hand away from me. Kim frowned and gave me a severe look.

“I don’t want any new friends, and I don’t want you, either!” I yelled. Then I scrambled to my feet, wiping away a tear. I hadn’t even realized I was crying,and I knew that I wasn’t supposed to. My father would have been mad at me. He said crying was for sissies.

“Pick up the camera. I’m going to teach you something new today,” she said, gesturing at the old Argus lying on carpet. But, once again, I disobeyed. I kicked the camera away from me, cracking the lens. I didn’t care; I was used to challenging Kim.

She tried to bend me to her will, and I fought with everything I had not to give in to her.

“You little shit.” She took me by the wrist and bent down to look into my eyes. I got a whiff of her vanilla perfume and turned up my nose at it because I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand having it on me, on my skin, inside me. That smell had invaded me; it had insinuated itself into every part of me without my permission, and I was disgusted by it.

“Should I go play with Logan instead?” She grinned smugly, because she knew she had me in her clutches.

She always used the same tactic in the end: blackmail. She knew that I would never allow her to touch my brother, that I would give in to her instead.