Page 29

The Berrykins are dancing around on TV. I wish I were in that world. Being a small person. I would want to live in Lemon-Meringue’s hair salon. All the colors blaring on the grainy TV.

I laugh at some of the Berrykins falling down the hill. Mommy looks down at me. I see her smile, her green eyes peering at me. She pokes my side, making me giggle and squirm more.

“Mommy, stop!” My laughs spill out, and she starts laughing as well. All noise besides the TV comes to a halt when the front door opens, slamming against the wall beside it.

“Alright, my Penny-P, time for bed,” Mommy whispers in my ear, showering kisses on my face. I get up and retreat to my bedroom, but not before I hear the sound of a body being slammed on the floor. A noise that is very normal here. A traumatizing noise that will forever haunt me.

I get under my blankets, looking out my little dirty window at the stars. Mommy loves the stars. We’ve been camping just to see them. She calls me her greatest wish, that she would look at the stars every night and pray to them to bring her, me.

Then one day, the stars brought me to her, and she was the happiest person to exist. She still thanks the stars to this day for me. I’m her greatest accomplishment.

It’s been a few hours, the sun is fully down and dark. Mommy’s cries and screams haven’t stopped. I do the one thing that will haunt me forever, becoming the biggest regret of my life. I walk to my door and crack it open, peering out of the sliver in it. I see Daddy on top of Mommy, his large fists flinging into her small frame.

“Shut up, bitch,” he grunts, putting his hands around her neck and squeezing roughly. He lifts her head and smashes it down, repeating the action a few times, and her body stops moving completely.

My little brain doesn’t really comprehend what happens next, but he pulls mommy’s pants down along with his own and rubs his part on her part. I look away before I can see anything else. I close the door and return to my bed, hiding under the covers, hoping this is all just a big nightmare.

I wake up to a super loud bang in the living room. Getting on my tippy toes, I go over to the door, cracking it open and looking through the slit again. I see a tall man, his face is dark. Black hair falls around his face, slightly sweaty. He has a boy in tow behind him.

He has a buzzed head, looking very strong for his young age. A black mask sits on his face, X’s and a smile glowing green on it. His arms are crossed over his chest, paying attention to whatever Daddy is saying. The young boy’s head snaps my way, and I throw my body away from the door as fast as I can. I don’t think he saw me.

My body shoots up, cold and sweaty as I’m pulled from the nightmare. I’m panting and my hair sticks to every inch of my face. I have seen Riot before. The day Mom died. Anger brews in my veins, but also sadness. I’ve only been asleep for around an hour.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her eyes. The sun filters in through the sheer curtains, casting a soft morning light on the room.

Tears wrack my body, heavy tears. I don’t know why I’m crying, but I am. I move to the middle of the bed, curling into a fetal position and just let myself cry. I cry for my past, and the painful memories I’ll always carry with me. I cry for my future, unsure if I’ll even see it. And I cry for me, the me I wanted to be, and the me I am.

I hear the door click open. Looking up, I see Riot standing in the doorway, his overly large body taking up the whole space.

He has his mask on, preventing me from seeing the look on his face. He walks in the door all the way, shutting it behind him and taking his mask off. Feeling the anger from my nightmare, I sit up. “You were there.”

Confusion crosses his face before I speak again, going slow over all the words, making sure I say them right. “At my house, when Mom died. I saw you, same mask and hair. With a tall man, black hair.” His eyes widen, now knowing what I’m talking about. I nod slowly, tears welling in my eyes as I look away.

“That was you?” He whispers the question, just as confused as me. “I-I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked over, nothing was there.” His eyes search mine, worry all in them.

“My father made me go. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have a choice. It was either go or get another beating. And his beating was where he’d throw me to a group of soldiers to beat me up for him.” He sighs, running his hand down his face. “I know this isn’t the right time, but no time will ever be the right time. Your father is dead. He will never hurt you again, you are safe now, I promise.” His words pierce my heart like a thousand daggers.

Heavy sobs make my entire body shake, sadness and relief overflowing me. I’m sad my father is dead, but I’m relieved that the monster that hurt me, an innocent six-year-old girl, is dead. He can’t hurt me, touch me, or even talk to me. The only person that can hurt me now is Riot.

Clearing his throat again, I see all the emotion get wiped from his face, eyes glazing over. “That is all. Have a good day, Penelope.” And with that, he places his mask on his face and storms out of the room. The walls shake with the rough slam of the door.

I don’t stop crying, curling back into the fetal position, hugging myself. I fall into an exhausted sleep, weighed down by the train wreck I call my life.

It’s been two days. I haven’t left my room. I’ll eat a bite, maybe two, of the food that the staff brings. The food is good, I just can barely stomach it. All I’ve done is use the bathroom, which I have my own of, the connecting door right across from the bed.

I haven’t seen Riot, either. Viktor has come in, instead of staff, a few times offering food, but they just sit on the desk next to the bathroom door until he or someone else returns, replacing the old with the new. Rinse and repeat.

There’s a little clock that sits on the nightstand next to the bed. My eyes have been trained on that for all the time I’ve been lying here. I lay here listening to the tick, tock. Watching the minutes pass by, then hours, and now days. I’ve been plagued with the memories of my father.

Every beating I took, every friend he sold me off to, every vulgar thing he shouted at me. I’m so fucking happy he’s dead, but I’m sad I could never experience having a true father.

I’m sad I never got to grow up with my amazing mother. I’m sad he took that away from me. Because he killed her. He took my mother away from the one person that needed her most.

“Penelope.” The voice makes me jump, eyes snapping to the source of the sound. Viktor stands in the doorway, another plate of food in his hands. “You need to eat, or Riot is going to come in here and force it down your throat.” I shake my head no and look at my clasped hands that rest in my lap, feeling nauseous just from the sight of the food. “Do you want to go on the bike again?”

My eyes shoot up, head nodding yes before I even have a chance to think. “Then eat.” He deadpans, and my face falls. That’s crazy. How fucking rude. “Eat, or no bike. I’ll even teach you how to drive it.”

He brings the food over to me, setting it on the edge of the bed before returning to his spot at the door. He stands there and watches me eat the whole plate, and I do. I finish everything on it, and drink whatever drink they gave me. It tastes like shit. Like pickle juice and socks. “It’s electrolytes.” Ah yes, as if I know what that is. I had a normal life until six, but I still don’t know some of these things.