Page 1 of The Masquerade: Room 2

Prologue

PIERCE

Thirty Years Ago

“Can you shut the fuck up with that racket, boy?” My daddy is always mad at me. “Lisa, why the hell would you let your mom buy him a toy ambulance with fucking sirens? He’s annoying enough without it. Now all he does is sit on the floor and press that fucking button all day long. It does my head in.”

“He’s four, John. He’s only small. Don’t be so mean.”

Mommy turns to me with a smile as bright as the sun. “You keep playing, baby. Mommy loves to hear her special little man playing doctor. I love you, Pierce.” She walks over and pats me on the head before she leaves for work. Mommy works in a bar. I’m not sure what that is, but she says it’s ‘honest’ work, which is ‘more than she can say for Daddy.’ They say a lot of things I don’t understand, but I know their angry voices, and I don’t like them. When Daddy shouts at Mommy, she cries, but Mommy shouts a lot when he says mean things about me. She always hides her face with her hair after she shouts at Daddy. She thinks I can’t see the marks, but I can. I give her extra cuddles and kisses those days.

As soon as the door closes behind her, my tummy starts to feel squishy. I don’t like this feeling. My tummy always does this when it’s just Daddy and me in the house. Usually, Grandma comes to see me when Mommy is out, and she plays with me and watches all my favorite cartoons. She gave me my new amb-lance. It’s the best thing in the whole world. I vroom it around the house from the moment I finish my cereal in the morning until I crawl into bed at night. I put it nicely on my shelf where I can see it. Mommy makes me laugh when she says ‘night, night’ to it. She says she has two babies now—me and my amb-lance. She’s funny. I can’t wait until she gets home from work. Until then, I’ll play in my room, away from Daddy.

I can hear him on the phone in our kitchen, so I creep past the doorway as quietly as possible and then run to my room, closing the door behind me. I have a lock on my door, and you need a key as big as my hand to work it. Daddy doesn’t know I have it. Mommy gave it to me the last time he was angry. She said that if she’s at work, I should use my magic key to lock the door and then hide it until she comes home. I do it exactly the way she told me to—twist it two times toward the picture on my wall. It’s of Mommy and me at the park with Grandma. It makes me happy when I look at it, and I feel safe when I know the door is locked.

When my tummy feels normal again, I climb onto my bed and run my hands over the shiny white paint on my amb-lance. I can hear Daddy’s voice getting louder. He’s saying bad words and throwing stuff. There’s a big crashing noise. I press the funny noise harder, over and over, trying to drown out the angry sounds. They scare me.

“Fucking hell! I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t get this shit sorted out. It’s my fucking neck on the line.” I press it again. “No excuses, you arrogant little bastard. I’m running this show, so get it done and stop asking questions you don’t need the answers to. Christ almighty! If you fuck this up, you’re done.”

I make the nee-naw-nee-naw noise along with my toy.

“Shut the fuck up, Pierce! I’m sick of hearing that fucking siren.”

I’m too scared to stop. Nee-naw… hoping someone will come and help me… nee-naw…

He’s coming up the stairs.

“You little shit! I told you to stop that blasted noise.”

I watch as the handle on my door turns and shakes. I gulp, holding my breath, happy he can’t get in.

“Open the door, you little punk. Where the fuck did you get the key?” The door shakes again as he struggles against the lock. “Open the door!”

My covers are getting wet. I hope Mommy doesn’t get upset with me when she comes home. If I just stay in here until she gets back, she’ll make everything okay. I know she will.

“Last chance, Pierce. Open the fucking door… now!”

Nee… naw. I cower under the covers.

I hear a loud bang right before the door breaks, and I peek out to see Daddy’s foot. I jump off the bed and scramble to the corner of the room, hugging my amb-lance and teddy bear, Snoofle. It smells like Mommy. I try to block out the sound of the door breaking piece by piece, making myself as small as I can, hoping I just disappear.

“You’re going to pay for this, you little shit. I’m going to make you wish you were never born. Fuck knows I wish that. Your mom and I were happy before you came along.”

He’s inside my room. My tummy hurts really bad, and I can’t stop the tears. “Mommy!”

“Your mom’s not here, boy. It’s just you… and me.” He stops at the foot of my bed. I peek out over the top of my teddy to see him looking at my sheets. “You pissed the bed? You’re four-fucking-years-old. Are you a little girl, Pierce? Pissed your panties because Mommy isn’t here to listen to your bullshit?”

“I want Mommy! I want Mommy!”

I can’t see him through my tears, but I feel it when he grabs my amb-lance, yanking it from my arms. “You think this is going to keep you from getting a good hiding for the way you’ve been acting?” I try to pull it back, but he lifts it too high, and a mean smile creeps onto his face. “You need to learn some respect, boy. When I tell you to shut the fuck up with this racket, you better do it. Better yet, if you don’t have this bloody thing, then you can’t annoy me all the time.”

He pulls his arm back and hits my toy against the wall, smashing it repeatedly.

“No, Daddy! No!”

He slowly turns, dropping the broken pieces of my happiness to the floor. “What did you just say to me?”

My tummy hurts so bad now I’m going to be sick. My hands are shaking as I close them tight around Snoofle, breathing in the smell of Mommy as I cry and cry and cry. “I’m… I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll be good. I promise. I love you, Daddy.”

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