It was far worse than she remembered, but that might just be because any touch was now unwelcome for Chloe.
Looking at her mother as she scrubbed furiously, in her place now stood the man who would forever haunt not only her nightmares but reality.
Four
How Does the Sight of Her Look to You Now?
Sleep no longer came for Chloe because sleep was a dangerous thing. Here, awake in her bedroom, alone, staring at the white wall, her kidnapping played before her eyes. It was as if she were watching a movie.
Sure, it scared the shit out of her, but it was better than the alternative.
Here, asleep in her bedroom, alone, with her eyes closed, her kidnapping didn’t play on the movie screen. It happened to her all over again.
She could feel hands wrapping around her neck …
The blade piercing my skin …
That was what really scared the shit out of her.
Chloe shook her tired head. No one hurt me.
It had been a while since her last dose of medication, and her mind didn’t seem as fuzzy or numb. Maybe it wasn’t a terrible nightmare that kept haunting her, but maybe it was real.
Hours passed as she sat in her misery, contemplating what was real or a dream. Finally, when she heard the footsteps come to the door, she knew she would be rescued from her thoughts, or any thoughts for that matter.
The smell that greeted her nose as her father entered the room had her wrinkling it up. She watched him stumble to her bed, almost falling over several times in the short distance.
“Dad, a-are you all right?”
His words came out harsh and slurred. “Yes-s-s. Why the f-f-fuck wouldn’t I be?”
Chloe’s heart rate started to rise from the sight of her father drunk, never having seen it before.
She sat quietly and patiently, waiting for him to quit fumbling to get the prescription bottle open.
“You-u-u open it-t.” He threw the bottle on the bed.
Grabbing up the bottle, she tried her best not to shake as she opened it and spilled out one of the little, white pills. Closing the bottle, she then quickly placed it on her nightstand, too afraid to hand the bottle to him and risk him touching her.
Maxwell snatched the bottle up forcefully, causing a huge rattling sound to fill the room before he stumbled out the way he had come in.
She sat in shock, gazing at the now closed door, hoping to never see her father come through her door like that again.
Something about him seemed … Violent, just like him …
Chloe opened her hand, revealing the little, white pill that sat perfectly in the middle of her palm. Swiftly, she popped the pill into her mouth before swallowing, hoping it would work quickly.
“I was in a car wreck; that’s all I know. I was in a car wreck. No one hurt me.”
* * *
It wasn’t long before her father’s medicine visits to her room were few and far between. Each time he came in, he was ruder and more drunk than the last visit. Chloe had to learn to deal with the pain on her own as she was slowly weaned off the pills. She didn’t know what she dreaded more: a train full of emotions hitting her when the medicine had run its course or her father walking through the door again. It was a flip of a coin which one was worse. They both gave her nightmares.
Something about her was broken, and those pills weren’t putting her back together. Instead, they just acted like a Band-Aid, a temporary fix not to feel the emotions that were killing her. The Band-Aid wasn’t healing her; it was causing her to rot from the inside out. Deep down, she knew this. She could feel it the moment her last dosage wore off, and that was when she made a decision.
The turning of the doorknob had Chloe jumping up in bed.
Maxwell entered the room in a jumbled mess, reeking of alcohol. Coming over, he practically threw the medicine bottle at her.
Chloe kept her head down as she said, “I-I d-don’t want them a-anymore.”
“Ex … cu-u-use me?”
Swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat, she said it again. “I d-don’t want them anymore.”
He stared at her a minute before he responded, “Then … if you don’t need them-m anymore, your ass-s-s can go back to s-s-school.”
She gasped, finally raising her head to look at him. “P-Please don’t make me go back!”
“Yes …”
“No!” She couldn’t help crying.
Maxwell pointed his finger right in her face, frightening her into thinking he was going to grab her. “Don’t you ever … speak to me that way again lit-t-tle girl.” He snatched up the medicine bottle forcefully off the bed. “Now you’re fucking going to s-s-school tomorrow. You were just in a damn wreck …, rem-m-member?”