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“Of course, silly goose. You’re my best friend. Your room will be next to mine so we can fight the nightmares together and tell each other stories at bedtime.”
“It’s perfect, Little Bird. Just like you.”
I smiled, my face flushing at his praise. “Thanks, Otto.”
He closed his eyes again, the smile staying on his lips as he fell asleep. I watched him, wishing I knew how to make him feel better. I didn’t like it when people were sick or injured. It made me feel helpless and alone.
The last memory of my parents surfaced, and I squeezed my eyes shut to block it out, but it was no use. Now that I’d thought about it, it pushed forward, not letting me hide.
Someone pounded on the door, shaking the thin walls of our home. My mom jumped up, looking everywhere for something. She and Daddy had been on the couch when they took the special medicine that made them feel better. They didn’t look sick, but they always seemed better afterward. Mommy would hold me and tell me how much she loved me, and Daddy would dance and sing, laughing until he fell asleep.
I hated it when the medicine wore off, and they went back to ignoring me, forgetting I was there most days. During those times, I had to feed myself, finding what I could in the fridge. I was so lonely when they were out of their special medicine. It hadn’t always been this way, but loneliness had become the norm for so long, it pushed away the good memories.
Stepping out of my room, I looked to the front door and my mom as she bit her nails. Maybe I could help make them happy.
“Mommy?” I asked, snagging her attention. Her eyes went wide as she stared at me, like she’d forgotten I was there.
“Open up, George. You’re overdue, and I’m past kindness. If I have to bust in, you’re not going to like it,” a man yelled, slamming his fists against the door.
I’d heard him before and knew he wasn’t a nice man. Mom always made me hide in the closet when he was here, saying he didn’t like little girls. Her lip quivered as the man spoke, and she rushed over, pushing me into the closet and pulling the coats in front of me.
“Whatever you do, don’t make a sound, and stay here until I get you. Can you do that for Mommy? It will be like a game of hide and seek. I’ll get you a new toy if you win.”
“Okay, Mommy.” I nodded, and she kissed my forehead, stepping back with tears on her face. I didn’t understand why she was crying. The game was fun, not sad.
Peeking through the crack, I watched Mom hurry to the door, opening it as she smiled wide. My dad stayed on the couch, his hands on his knees. The angry man rushed in, pushing Mommy to the ground. Covering my mouth, I held my gasp in, wanting to win and not be found.
“Where’s the money, George? You haven’t been holding up your end of the bargain, so I want it back,” he demanded, walking into my father’s space and staring down at him.
“It’s been a little tight this month, Carlos. I’ll get you double next month. Promise. These new pills make it hard to get out of bed. Maybe we can have some of the other stuff instead?” my father asked, hope brimming in his eyes as he licked his lips.
The big man gritted his teeth, shaking his head. “No. I’m done listening to your excuses. Let your death warn the other lowlifes who think they can steal from me.”
My young mind got stuck on his words, trying to understand what he meant. We hadn’t stolen anything. And what did he mean by death?
The next few seconds happened too fast for me to react. The man lifted a gun and pulled the trigger, shooting my father in the head. Mommy screamed, her tears falling fast as she stared at Daddy, his body limp on the couch, a red puddle forming around him.
Carlos turned, the gun in his hand sounding again as he aimed at my mommy on the floor. Her screams stopped, and the air in the trailer shifted as he stomped toward the door, the sound of the TV the only thing I could hear in the background now. Carlos paused, his hand squeezing the wood of the doorframe, making it splinter. I blinked past my tears, my body shaking as I watched, not wanting him to find me.
“I know you’re in here, Cindy. One day we’ll meet again, and I’ll end your life just like I did your parents. When, is the price you pay, never knowing when I’ll be around the corner waiting for you. Bye… for now, Cindy.”
The door slammed shut, and I sat frozen in that closet, too scared to leave, afraid he’d open the door and take me. When it got dark, I finally crawled out and approached my dad first. His body was cold, but I got his medicine where he kept it, pushing it into his mouth.
“Wake up, Daddy. I have your meds. Please, Daddy.”
My hands became covered in blood, the slipperiness not deterring me from trying to get him to respond. Giving up on him, I crawled over to my mom. Blood covered the ground, soaking my jeans and socks. From the light of the window, I could see the hole in her head, the top not looking right. Frantically, I scooped up the pieces, trying to shove them back inside.
My tears continued to pour, and snot dripped down my face as I tried to save my parents. Wiping my nose, I smeared blood on my face; the rust smell infiltrated my nostrils, making it all I could notice. I kept working on putting the pieces back in until my hands shook too much for me to do anymore.
When they wouldn’t wake up, I curled into a ball and laid next to my mommy, hoping she’d wake soon.
A car door slamming woke me, the sun beginning to peek through the window. Sitting up, I wiped my eyes, my face feeling funny. Blinking down at my hands, all I could see was red. My clothes were stained red, my hands and even my hair were tinged red.
Scooting back, I kicked the hard object in front of me before realizing it was my mom. The tears fell again, the horrors of yesterday returning. Noise from outside sounded again, footsteps approaching. The angry man’s, Carlos, words repeated in my head, and I knew he’d returned to finish the job.
Scampering up, I ran to my bedroom and locked the door as the front door banged open. Grabbing the backpack I kept under the bed, the one filled with snacks, clothes, and my favorite stories, I slung it over my back as I climbed onto the bed and shifted the window open, just like Mommy had made me practice. Jumping out, I took off, not looking back as I ran through the trailer park.
I made it to the park where Mommy took me on days she felt good. The blood coating me itched, and I knew I needed to get it off before people noticed. Climbing through the open window of the locker room, I sat against the tiled wall, catching my breath and listening to see if the bad man had followed.
