4. Layne

Chapter four

Layne

A ge 6

It’s cold in my room and it’s making it to where I can’t sleep. Mommy forgot to shut my window and didn’t dry my hair before she sent me to bed. No matter how hard I tried to close it on my own, I’m just not strong enough. My tummy rumbles and I contemplate sneaking out of my room to search the cupboard for something to eat. Mommy got money on her special card that lets us get groceries at the corner shop. So I know there has to be something in there.

I sit on the edge of my bed with my teddy pressed to my chest, my heart racing. Leaving my room after bedtime is not allowed. Not even to potty. But I am so hungry that it hurts. There was no school today, so that means I only got some crackers and milk for breakfast, no lunch, and dinner was a small bowl of cabbage and potato soup.

The sound of laughter from outside my door makes my stomach turn. When mommy and daddy are laughing, that’s when bad things happen. I quietly slide off the bed, gently turning the doorknob. For once, the door doesn’t creak. I sneak down the hall and peek into the living room—mommy dances in front of Daddy, beer bottle in one hand, lit cigarette in the other.

I watch as Mommy’s laughter turns into a harsh cough, the smoke from the cigarette filling the air. Daddy’s eyes are glazed over, and his words are slurred. They don’t notice me standing there, frozen in fear. The room is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the flickering television in the corner.

My stomach growls again, reminding me of my hunger. I muster up the courage to tiptoe towards the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat. As I enter the kitchen, the sight before me breaks my heart. Empty cupboards and a fridge with barely anything inside. Mommy’s special card must have run out of money again.

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize that there’s nothing for me to eat. Desperation takes over, and I consider asking Mommy for food, hoping she can do something about it. But the memory of her anger and the sound of breaking glass stops me. I can’t risk it.

I quietly make my way back to my room, defeated and hungry. As I crawl back into bed, shivering from the cold, I hold my teddy bear tightly, seeking comfort. Sleep seems impossible now, as hunger gnaws at my insides.

A sharp knock on the front door makes my eyes snap open, and I stare at my door. Silently begging it not to open. Only one person comes to the house this late.

I hope it isn’t him.

My daddy’s boisterous laughter rings out throughout the entire apartment. There are some heated words exchanged, but then laughter again. The creaking of the floor outside my door makes my lip quiver. I do the best I can to fight back the tears that want to escape, but one sneaks down my cheek, anyway. “Please, God. Make him go away.”

The door creaks open and I squeeze my eyes shut. He enters my room and shuts the door behind him, the sound of his boots shuffling across the worn-out carpet letting me know he is getting closer.

“Laney-Bear,” his deep, scratchy voice sings my name.

My brain is screaming at me. “Don’t let him touch us. Mommy, please come get me.”

“I know you’re not asleep, Laney. Look at me.”

My eyes fly open and his body is just a dark figure looming over me in the blackness of my room. The edge of my mattress dips as he sits down. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to shrink away, but there is nowhere to hide. His presence fills the room, suffocating me with fear. I can smell the stench of his yucky cigars on his breath.

He reaches out, his rough hand brushing against my cheek. The moment his hand makes contact, I flinch, and a wave of uncontrollable trembling takes over my body. I want to scream, to fight back, but I know it will only make things worse. I’ve learned the hard way that fighting only makes him angrier.

His voice lowers a sinister whisper that sends shivers down my spine. “You’re such a good girl, Laney. Your daddy says that soon you are going to be all mine.” The words are laced with deceit, a twisted manipulation tactic that I’ve become all too familiar with. I shake my head. My voice caught in my throat, unable to form words.

His grip tightens on my arm, his fingers digging into my fragile skin. “Remember, Laney, this is our little secret. You can’t tell anyone. It’s our special bond, just between us.” The weight of his words crushes me, the weight of a burden too heavy for a child to bear.

Time seems to stand still as he continues to invade my sanctuary, my safe haven stripped away in an instant. I pray for rescue, for someone to save me from this torment. But deep down, I know that no one is coming to save me, salvation is a distant dream, a flicker of hope that fades with each passing day.

His hand creeps under my thin blanket as I lie there and tremble. The feeling of his rough, calloused fingers sliding underneath my underwear makes me want to throw up. He keeps his fingers resting on top of my special area, gently gliding his fingers over the sensitive skin.

“So perfect.” He staggers into a whispered breath. “Perfect just for me.”

After what seems like hours of him touching me, he finally leaves, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway, I am left hollow and broken. The tears I’ve held back now flow freely, staining my pillow with the evidence of my pain. I clutched my teddy bear tighter, seeking solace in its worn fabric, desperate for some comfort.

Sleep eludes me once again, my mind consumed by the horrors that haunt my every waking moment. But amidst the darkness, a flicker of resilience remains. I will endure, I will survive. And one day, I will break free from the chains that bind me and find a life where love and safety are not distant dreams, but a reality. I can’t help but wonder why life has to be so hard. Why can’t I have a warm room, a full stomach, and parents who take care of me? The laughter from the living room continues, a stark contrast to the emptiness I feel inside.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the sounds and the hunger. Hoping that tomorrow will bring a better day, where I won’t have to sneak around in search of food.