Page 5 of Obsession

My knees ached. I fell over outside yesterday, and now I couldn’t stop myself from picking at the dried scabs until they bled.

“Maybe I would bother if you were ever home.”

“Shut. Up. If it weren’t for me working every goddamn hour God sends, you’d be out on the street.”

“Fuck you!” Mom screamed at the top of her lungs. Loud enough for it to be heard outside the trailer. I pressed my hands over my ears and counted to ten. All the while, my heart raced. The cupboard was too small for me to rock inside, which is what I liked to do when I felt scared. Rock and press my hands over my ears to block out the noise.

Mom continued screaming, and I prayed for her to stop.

With a final huff, Daddy stormed out of the trailer and slammed the door shut.

“Fucking asshole!” Mommy shouted after him before silence finally settled over the room. But it wasn’t a comfortable quietness. Mommy’s labored breaths and her clenching fists tightened my stomach into knots. I lowered my hands from my ears and shrunk away from the gap in the cupboard. Hidden in the dark, I tried my best to stay quiet and go unnoticed. But Mom knew me too well.

The dark edge to her voice made me whimper.

“I know where you are, Robbie. Come out.”

I didn’t move. Fear kept me paralyzed.

“Come out, Robbie. Mommy won’t ask again.”

Holding my breath, I hugged my knees close to my body and dug my dirty nails into my skin. Mommy scared me when she got like this. She always hurt me after she and Daddy fought.

“ROBBIE!” she screamed, and I flinched.

“Come out here, you little shit! Don’t make me look for you.”

I shook with paralyzing fear, my teeth chattering.

With a final sigh, she dragged a hand down her face before she flung herself at the counter and grabbed a dirty pan.

She threw it at the floor, and the loud crash had my heart slamming violently against my ribcage. I squeezed my eyes shut and hid my face in the crook of my arm.

“You ungrateful little shit! It’s your fault, you know. You’re the reason Mommy and Daddy fight. If you would just disappear, we’d have some fucking food on the table.” She stalked around the small trailer, slamming open doors and tossing items to the floor.

Warmth soaked through my shorts. Mommy would hurt me more for peeing myself, but I couldn’t help it. Not when I was this scared.

The light in the gap between the doors disappeared, and Mommy peeked inside. “Found you, you little shit.” She wrenched them open, grabbed me by the ankle, and dragged me out. I fell to the floor with a hard thud, but Mommy didn’t stop to check if I was okay. She didn’t care. Instead, she walked up to the kitchen counter, grabbed the liquid dish soap from the sink, and forced me to open my mouth.

“No, Mommy, please,” I cried, the sound muffled by her tight grip on my cheeks.

“Drink it, you pathetic crybaby. This is what you get for ruining my fucking life.”

The bitter taste made me gag. The crazed look on Mommy’s face still didn’t soften. She placed the dish soap back on the counter and dragged me to the tiny bathroom at the back of the trailer. “You pissed yourself again. What have I said about that behavior? It’s not fucking acceptable.”

Her hands hurt me as she stripped me of my clothes. Then she hauled me into the shower and put the water on the coldest setting, not satisfied until I let out a shriek and started crying, ice-cold water pouring over me.

Crouched in the shower, I sobbed as she aimed the shower head at my face. Mommy laughed. Mommy always laughed when I cried.

She finally rose to her feet and switched off the shower. Towering over me, her lips curled back into a sneer. “What an ugly little kid you are.”

I kept my face hidden in the crook of my arm as she walked out and shut the door. Mommy had installed a lock on the outside, and the sound it made when it clicked into place had ice running through my veins. Sometimes, she kept me locked in here for days, wet and cold, without food.

My bottom lip trembled even as I tried to stay strong.

With my legs pulled close to my body and my arms wrapped around them to keep warm, I shivered. Shower water dripped from my soaked hair while I cried softly. I hated Mommy, but I still wanted her to love me. Other mommies loved their kids. So why didn’t my mommy love me?

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