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He’d been having more bad days than good lately, and sometimes, he would only have a few good hours. I tried to tell Mom he was sad, but she told me he was fine and that sometimes daddies got sad.
I couldn’t help thinking it was my fault, though. He only ever got sad when I did or said something wrong, which was why I was going to make him the best cookies ever.
“Like this?” I asked, mixing it as best as I could.
“Just like that.” He grinned at me and then pulled some of the mixture out of the pan and rolled it into balls. “Now we need to do this, and then we can put them into the oven.”
I nodded and started to form balls too, so excited for having freshly baked cookies. Maybe Dad would let me watch some cartoons and sit with me while we ate them.
Once the tray was full, he put them into the oven, and we started to clean and put everything away. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when the timer went off that things changed. Dad had started to pace the length of the living room, and it didn’t matter how much I tried to get his attention and make him happy again, he just wasn’t listening to me.
“Aria!” he shouted, and I stared at the oven door. The cookies needed to come out; otherwise, they’d burn. “Come here, quick!”
I took one last look at the oven, and then raced into the living room. My stomach dropped when I saw his pale face, but it was the way his gaze kept darting around the room that had me even more scared. Something had happened and—
“You need to go and hide.”
“What? But, Dad, the cookies—”
“Now, Aria! Go and hide in your closet, and don’t come out until I tell you to. They’re coming for us, sweetie. They’re coming to get us, and I need to protect you.”
“But—”
“Now!” he roared, and I squealed. I spun around, ran to my bedroom, and hid in my small closet. I brought my knees up to my chest and counted as high as I could and then started from one again. I wasn’t sure how many numbers I counted, but the smell of burning cookies drifted into my room.
The smoke alarm went off, and I jumped at how loud it was. I couldn’t hear Dad mumbling anymore, not until the sound stopped, and then some crashing echoed from the kitchen.
I lay down on my side and stared at my closed closet doors, watching and waiting for him to come and get me. I waited and waited and waited, but he never came. It wasn’t until Mom got home from her shift at the diner that I was allowed out of my closet.
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry about Dad. He’s just having a bad day.” Mom wrapped her arms around me and kissed me on top of the head, but nothing she said made a difference. The day had started out so good, and now…
Now the cookies were burned.
“Hope, can you watch Belle for a couple of minutes?”
I didn’t wait for Hope to answer, not that I was sure I’d be able to hear her from the pounding in my ears. I raced up the stairs and into my bedroom. The room spun as I entered it, but I managed to make it to my desk drawer and to my case. I grabbed it and then twirled on the spot, trying to find the best place to hide and—
I crossed my room and opened up my closet door. It wasn’t the same one I’d had to hide in all those years ago, but it was enough for the memories to come flying back to the forefront of my mind. I lost count of the number of times Dad had told me to hide, but almost always it was in my closet.
Stepping inside didn’t calm me, nor when I shut the door, basking myself in darkness. But it was the feel of the case in the palm of my hand that centered me. I grabbed my cell and turned on the flashlight. The light hit off the blades, and I plucked out the third one. My thumb rubbed over it, feeling the smooth surface and sharp edges. I blinked at it as my other hand reached for the bottom of my sweater. I pulled it up enough to show the bottom of my belly and then tore the blade over the smooth, unmarked skin.
My head fell back as the trickle of blood flowed down, gathering at the waistband of my leggings. The high I’d been having was starting to dissipate, so I made another mark, crisscrossing them as to cause more pain.
And then my heartbeat slowed down. The room stopped spinning, my pulse wasn’t thumping as fast, and the buzzing in my ears stopped. I’d successfully brought myself back into the here and now, and everything was okay again.
“Aria?” Hope shouted, and I squealed, the blade dropping from my fingers and onto the floor of my closet. I searched for it frantically. “My ride is here.” My fingers landed on the cool metal, and I scrambled to put the blade away, wiping the blood on my black leggings.
“I’m coming! Two seconds
!” I pushed my closet door open and gulped a huge breath then hid my case between a stack of jeans. I raced out of my room and down the stairs, wincing more than usual from the cuts. I had to get used to the new place, but I had no doubt it would satisfy my needs…for the time being.
“The cookies are ready to go in the oven,” Hope said as she pulled the front door open. She frowned at me. “You okay? You look a little red.”
I waved her off. “I’m good. I better head in there and finish the cookies.”
Hope nodded. “I can stay if you—”
“Nope. Go have fun with your boyfriend. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I grinned and tried to school my features as I watched her jog to the sidewalk and slip into the car which was waiting for her. I waved then shut the door and headed back into the kitchen. “Where were we?” I asked Belle.
