Page 1 of Virginity Sold

Chapter 1

Elena

“What the hell are you good for, Sally Anne? When I come home, I expect a fucking hot meal on the table, not this barely edible shit you’re trying to pass off as food,” my dad bellows as I cower under my blankets, praying he doesn’t come into my room.

“I’m sorry,” Mama pleads, just before a loud smack and my mama's cries fill the air. Daddy hit her. Again.

I hate it when Daddy’s mad. He’s mean and doesn’t care about how bad he hurts us. I get out of bed quietly, not wanting him to know I’m awake. If I make a noise, he’ll come in here.

Picking up my favorite stuffed unicorn, my pillow, and blanket, I tiptoe to my closet. It’s my fortress, my safe zone when Daddy’s like this.

As I open the door, it lets out a squeak. My body freezes, afraid he’ll come charging through the door and snatch me up by the neck. The last time he did, I had to stay home from school until the bruises faded. Mama didn’t want the people to come and investigate like they did before.

Daddy’s shouting gets louder, and I flinch when glass shatters on the floor. It takes everything in me not to scream every time he throws something.

“Where’s the little brat?!” he screams. Oh no, he’s looking for me. What did I do?

“She’s asleep,” comes from my sobbing mother.

“I don’t give a fuck. Her goddamn toys are all over my motherfucking floor. I’m tired of this shit, Sally Anne. Get the little brat out here and have her clean this shit up, or I’m going to beat her ass.”

My body shakes. I don’t want to go out there, but if I don’t, he’ll do exactly what he says, or worse. I have a school field trip tomorrow to the zoo. I don’t want to miss that.

Maybe he’ll forget about me. Mama will get him another beer and he’ll sit down in his chair and watch television.

But when the thundering of his feet gets louder with each step, I know it’s not going to be that kind of night. I scoot backward, as far into the corner as I can go, and pull my blanket around me, holding my unicorn tight to my body.

I clasp my hands together and close my eyes as my body shakes. Please, God, let him change his mind and not come in here.

The slamming of my door on the wall has me jumping, yelping in fright, as the shimmer of the hall light casts a glow through the slats of the bi-fold door of the closet. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to make myself invisible. If I don’t breathe, don’t move, maybe he’ll soon grow bored with looking for me.

But he doesn’t. He’s tearing apart my room. I can hear something large crashing to the floor and fear for my few toys. My only friends, my confidants. Only they know the horrors that happen in this house.

Steps grow louder until they stop right in front of the door.

My heart races; this is it.

The door flies open and a large hand grabs hold of my arm, pulling me out as I scream.

“There you are, you worthless good-for-nothing brat. What have I told you about leaving your shit lying around the house?”

The sound of metal clanking just before a loud whoosh. “It’s time I teach you a lesson.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed, laying me over his lap. Daddy places his large hand on my back, holding me firmly in place as he pulls up my nightgown, giving him a view of my favorite pair of My Little Pony panties.

“I’m sick of you and your mother. All you do is mooch and lie around while I bust my ass every day to keep a roof over your heads. You’re both disrespectful bitches.” A whistling sound cuts through the air just before the belt hits my bottom, and I scream. A searing pain shoots through my body, sucking all the air out of my lungs. I’m barely able to catch my breath before it happens again.

Where is my mama? Why isn’t she coming to help me?

Another sting hits me in the same spot, and I jerk.

I shoot up in bed, gasping for air. Why does this keep happening? It’s yet another morning I wake up, covered in sweat from having the same nightmare again. But it’s not a nightmare, it’s a memory. A reminder of the hell I lived through as a child.

My father left not long after that. He came in late one night, screaming at my mother about something, before I heard her scream, then a loud crash. I ran as quickly as I could to my hiding place, but he never came looking for me. Instead, he left and never came back.

That was twelve years ago.

I don’t know why I continue to have these dreams. It’s not like I would even remember him if I ever saw him again. He’s merely a blur most of the time except in my dreams, where he runs rampant, but his face is never visible. It’s always a shadow, a black spot where his head should be. His voice, though. That I remember. It sends chills over my whole body.

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