Page 2 of Lie With Me

“You’ll use the tampons. Gonna need to get that goldmine between your legs ready.” She takes another drag and blows the sweet-smelling smoke into my horrified face.

“For some reason, God blessed you with good looks. Since I feed and clothe you, you’ll pay me back by using your assets to get me what I want. Momma’s getting tired. It’s time for you to start pulling your weight.”

I know now that there is no escaping it.

My worst nightmare is about to come true.

Age 14

Slap…slap…slap

A shiver rolls through my body as the cold winter air licks my naked skin.

Momma hasn’t paid the electric bill, and our trailer is as cold inside as it is outside.

The man in front of me grunts, and I squeeze my eyes shut as his warm, sticky substance coats my chest. It smells like dirty socks and chlorine.

My knees are sore from kneeling on the ground. These days, they have permanent bruises fromholding this position on the floor for so long so many times a week.

“I’m getting tired of this shit, Lucille. When are you gonna let me fuck her?” the man complains to Momma as he tucks himself away in his pants.

As soon as I hear his zipper, I open my eyes and wait for him to turn away before I grab my robe and wrap it around me, using the collar to wipe my chest. Momma tried to get me a robe just like hers, but I picked out an oversized purple one from the Salvation Army instead.

It hides me better until I’m allowed to get up off the floor and put my clothes back on.

“As soon as she turns fifteen. Can’t have her all used up before she’s in her prime. Trust me, she’ll be worth the wait,” Momma tells him while she jabs her arm with a needle.

Her eyes turn glassy as the man turns and drags his eyes down my body. “Soon, you’ll be mine, little girl. Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you.” He sneers before leaving our trailer without another word to Momma.

She opens her arms and beckons me to her. And like the obedient daughter I am, I crawl into them in search of some sort of comfort.

“You’re such a good girl, taking care of your momma,” she says before kissing the top of my head. Her words slur as her body slumps over. Slipping off the couch, I go to the bathroom to clean off.

The water is ice cold because Momma also forgot to pay the gas bill.

Age 16

I’ve learned to disassociate when Momma’s men stop by.

They don’t seem to care when I lay there, silent and unmoving—like a corpse.

At least she makes them wear condoms.

I don’t know what angel is looking out for me, but it’s a damn miracle I haven’t gotten pregnant or had a STI.

Now that the men are allowed to have sex with me, Momma makes enough money to keep the utilities on. But I’m still going to school in rags, and lunch is the only time I get a proper meal. If anyone notices, they don’t care and don’t say anything. High school is even worse than elementary.

The system is fucked.

We live in a bad neighborhood where the cops look the other way, and the teachers don’t question if you show up with bruises shaped like fingerprints on your skin. Most of the women are dealing with abusive husbands at home, and the men are alcoholics or leer at the female students as if they are imagining what it’d be like to keep them for detention and force them on their knees to keep a strike off their record.

No one cares what happens to kids like me at home.

Which is why I plan on running away.

“Look at me, Valentine,” the man above me says as he plows into me.

My eyes drift from my ratty old teddy bear on the chair next to my bed to his face. “It’s Valentina.”

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