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“Why? Is it dad?”
My father works for some cruel men, and we have been ‘visited’ several times in the past, but he always managed to talk his way out of trouble. I know he owes men money sometimes, but other than that I don’t really understand how he makes his living.
“Don’t question me, do as I say.” Mom sounds desperate, which isn’t anything new because I have seen her like this before, several times, in fact.
“I want to help.”
I say impulsively and she says angrily, “For fuck’s sake, Callie, listen for once in your life. Please, honey. For me.”
I nod miserably. “OK.”
For a moment, she stares at me with an apology in her eyes and suddenly clasps me to her and holds me tightly. “I love you honey, always remember that.”
For some reason, that one statement scares me more than anything else she’s said and as I hug her back, I whisper, “I love you mom.”
Then she is gone. Telling me to lock the door behind her and as I turn the key, my heart thumps so hard I really believe it’s going to give out on me.
For a while I sit on my bed holding my elephant, pressing it to my face to comfort me as it always has.
My life isn’t the stuff of most kids. My parents do things that bring strange visitors to our door at night. Loud angry men who make mom cry and daddy beg. I tried to listen once, but all I heard was the mention of drug money. It shocked me and I didn’t want to know any more and so I never asked and pretended we were a normal family because they tried their hardest to make me believe we were.
Suddenly, there’s a crash and a scream and my heart leaps almost outside of me and fear slides through my veins as my father yells my mother’s name. The sound of angry voices fills the house, but I can’t make out the words and I am so tempted to turn that lock and steal along the hallway to watch what is happening on the floor below.
Then I hear a gunshot and my mom screams in terror, causing me to bolt to the trap door with trembling legs and pull the door shut over my head. The bed disguises it andeven if it was moved, I doubt anyone could see it’s here at all, because my father made certain of that. He built a panic room and I never really understood why.
I do now though because suddenly, the door crashes open and loud footsteps enter and my mom sobs. “She’s not here. She’s at a sleepover with one of her friends.”
“Do you expect me to believe that, bitch?” His voice wraps around my soul and squeezes the life out of it. I will never forget the evil, husky tones of a man who could well be the devil himself.
I scrunch tighter and hold my breath as he says savagely, “There is no way out of this.”
“Please.” Mom sobs. “I’ll get your money. I’ll work for you and do whatever it takes.”
Several men laugh and the evil one says with amusement, “You’ll work for me, interesting.”
Mom sobs. “Please, give me a chance. I promise you; I’ll get your money. Just spare me and my daughter.”
“How old is your daughter?” The man says casually and mom mumbles, “Ten years old.” It confuses me and then a grunt of pain makes me jump as she falls to the ground above me. I can make out her floral dress as a piece of the fabric falls between the floorboards and she grunts as he delivers a kick to her side.
“Maybe we should test the goods. What do you say, men?”
There’s a loud jeer and mom sobs, “Please, I’m begging you.”
“Do you hear that, men? She’s begging for it.” The evil one says.
She screams and I can tell it’s bad when the man says, “Strip her and fuck her, every single one of you.”
I press my hand to my mouth to stifle the scream, working its way up in my throat as I listen to her sobbing and something thumping above my head.
It goes on for ages and throughout it all, the man jeers as he tells them to fuck the bitch hard. Then he growls, “Open your mouth” and I feel hot rain falling through the cracks, although this liquid is definitely not rain. It smells so bad, and I do everything I can to avoid it. Mom is sobbing hard and moaning in pain and the bastard says sharply, “You’re not good enough and you have failed your interview.”
The sound of a gunshot makes my ears ring and a river of blood rains down upon me, mixing with my salty tears and changing my elephant from gray to red.
A man says roughly, “Don Matasso, should we go after her daughter? Find her friend and sell her to the highest bidder.”
I want to scream so badly but realize one small sound would make this nightmare even worse and the last thing I hear is him laughing like a maniac before saying, “Sure, why not? They owe me two thousand dollars. Anything extra we get for the bitch will be classed as interest. Find her and bring her to me. I’ll have my fun with her first.”
The sound of their footsteps retreating is the best sound ever, but I don’t chance leaving my sanctuary for many hours and as I grieve for my parents, I make a solid vow. Find this Don Matasso and take his own miserable life or die trying.
