Page 71 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Now that we have the vague approximations of blueprints from deviants like Gacy and Bundy, can human nature honestly be read like a fucking deck of cards?

“Let’s…we’re just taking this one step at a time, all right?”

That was our motto back then when we were holed up in that cold, rat-infested basement.

One day at a time.

Dawn was our alarm clock. The Universe’s equivalent of a reset button. When dawn crept in through those gap-toothed boards and ran a slow scan down the dusty floor where they kept us…it was a new day.

A day filled with possibilities.

And always, a day filled with horror.

Chapter 24

Trinity

A bell sounds. I peel open my eyes with difficulty as I shift a body weighing ten tons.

What time is it?

Whatdayis it?

I’m dimly aware a lot of time has passed since Zachary laid me on my bed. The pain woke me up a few times since then, but I only stayed awake long enough to nurse my bruises with ointment. Surprisingly, no one’s bothered me. I guess Miriam had no choice but to give me a sick day.

I lie here in the dark, wincing as I fumble for the jar. I screw open the lid and scoop out some salve.

It stings going on but not nearly as much as yesterday. My bruises are healing but my pride is still battered and blue.

It seems so stupid not telling them about Cassius’s drawing. I can’t fight against the certainty he’ll do something even worse if I rat him out. After all, what’s stopping him from sneaking into my room and finishing what he started?

I’d love to know what I did to earn this. I mean, I’ve heard of hazing but does everyone really go through this when they arrive here?

I’ve heard of bullying too, but nothing like this.

I set down the jar on my side of the desk. There’s barely enough moonlight coming in through the window to make out Jasper’s body humping up the blankets on his bed.

I really,reallyneed to pee.

I don’t even bother sitting on the edge of the bed. I go straight to my feet, grimacing when my skirt brushes over my underwear.

Lord, this hurts. The worst I’ve ever gotten from Mom was a slap on my rump with her bare hand when I threw a tantrum. I think I was like ten or something.

Dad never laid a hand on me. He’d wanted to once, but my mother had stopped him. I can’t even remember what I’d done wrong.

It’s pretty late though, right? If Jasper’s here and asleep, then it has to be sometime after ten.

Pretty sure I’m the only one awake on this floor. Which means I’d have the bathroom all to myself.

It’s gonna hurt to go shower. But at least I’ll be sure no one’s going to walk in on me. And maybe the hot water will soothe out the pain.

I take out some pajamas, clean underwear, socks. I ease open the door and check the hallway before stepping outside.

Then I hesitate.

I thought Father Gabriel would come see me yesterday, but the only person I saw was Jasper. I could go there now. To Father Gabriel’s room. I could tell him what happened.

Everything.

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