Page 14 of Bad for You

I want to help her, but Aldo shakes his head. “We can’t save them all,” he wisely says, knowing another would just take her place.

But how can I turn my back on her? I am here. I may not be able to save them all, but I can her. But in this circumstance, it’s either me or her.

And I choose me, even if it’s a choice I will regret for the rest of my life.

I hurry from the basement, my tiny legs barely able to keep up as I run to my room, afraid this is all a joke. But when I jump into my bed, heart racing so loudly I can hear it in my ears, I see that no one is following me.

I hold my breath, certain Father Merry will appear, telling me it’s all a joke.

But he doesn’t.

And only then do I take what feels like my first breath of life.

I’m on my hands and knees scrubbing the toilets, but I don’t mind because I’ll be gone tomorrow.

Aldo said three days.

Three days isn’t a long time, but for me, each hour, each minute, has felt like ten thousand years. But I know my time has finally come.

So I persevere because I have hope.

The sisters have ensured my last days here are far from easy. But I’ll happily scrub every toilet in this place because I know it’s soon to be my last. I’m humming softly as I clean the boys’bathroom. The place is always a disgusting mess, so I’ll be here for a while.

As I’m using the brush to clean around the toilet bowl, I hear the door open.

“Occupied!” I call out, not bothering to stop scrubbing. “Use the bathroom down the hall.”

Rushed footsteps echo from behind, but I don’t have time to turn around before someone grips my hair and slams my face into the ceramic bowl. I use my hands to stop from connecting with the toilet a second time, but my attacker pulls my head back hard, allowing me to see him.

“Nice eye patch,” I mock, trying to remain composed because Hugo, my attacker, is intent on revenge.

“I lost my eye because of you!” he snarls, inches from my face.

“Too bad I didn’t cut out your tongue.”

Hugo snarls and attempts to drag me out of the stall. But I grip the bowl using my arms and legs. If I don’t fight, I’m scared I will be leaving the orphanage in a body bag.

Revenge makes Hugo strong and brave. He punches me in the temple, and my vision instantly blurs.

My grip slackens, and Hugo drags me along the floor by my hair. I try to grab onto something, but the floor is slippery thanks to it being recently mopped. I kick my legs out and attempt to pry myself free from Hugo’s grip, but he only pulls my hair harder.

“Help!” I scream, hating that I can’t defend myself.

But Hugo silences me when he reaches for the mop and shoves it into my mouth.

Instantly, I taste detergent and dry retch because that is beyond disgusting. I cleaned the entire bathroom with this mop. I know what revolting things I mopped up. He removes it, only to snap the handle in half as he brings it over his knee.

I wonder what he intends to do with it.

Things happen so fast, and Hugo has the advantage because he knows what he wants. He is the predator. I am his prey.

When he lets go of my hair, I scramble frantically, but Hugo jumps on top of me, pinning me to the floor. I reach out with my free hand and slap his cheek.

This only enrages him further.

He punches me in the face, resulting in the back of my head slamming against the hard floor. My nose begins to bleed. I’m not sure if it’s broken. I can’t feel pain anymore.

Hugo won’t be happy until I’m dead. But when he yanks up the hem of my dress, it’s apparent he would prefer another outcome over my death.

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