Page 1 of Conan

PROLOGUE

DEMI

AGE FOUR

“Daddy,I’ll be good, I promise. Don’t give me away,” I begged as I dragged my feet. It didn’t slow him down though, he kept a firm grip on my wrist as he towed me to the front doors of the child protective services building.

“I can’t keep you, baby. Daddy’s sick,” he declared as sadness swamped his voice.

“I’ll take care of you,” I pleaded. I’d already lost my mother, though it’s because she ran away from home, not because she was sick like my daddy is, and I didn’t want to lose the only parent I had left.

His feet stopped mid stride, bending down so he was on the same level as I was. “Baby, I have to go to a special hospital. There’s nobody to stay with you while I’m getting treatment. This is what’s best for you, you’ll see,” he promised. “They’ll take real good care of you for me.”

Before I had a chance to disagree, a woman came flying down the stairs, reaching out for my overnight bag with one hand, and stretching out, yanking me to her side with the other one. Her claw-like talons dug into my shoulder so tightly that my eyes crossed from her nails embedding into my skin. I looked up at her and immediately had a distaste for her. Her nose was raised in the air and her hair was pulled back into a bun so severely tight, not a hair out of place, that it stretched her face to a point where her lips looked like they’d been sucking on a lemon.

She looked mean. I didn’t like her, not one bit.

“I’ve arranged for the hospice nurse to meet you at this location,” the lady told my dad, holding out a slip of paper. “You have a room already set up and waiting for you at the facility.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dad said, attempting to be polite but the way his teeth were grinding together said loud and clear that he didn’t like her either.

So why was he leaving me with her then?

I didn’t understand what I did that made him give me away. I’d been a good girl. I brushed my teeth every night before bed, I said my prayers just like he taught me to, and I stayed in my room and gave him the space he stated he needed so I didn’t bother him while his tummy hurts—ever.

Dad reached out, patted the top of my head then walked away, he didn’t look back, not even once to check on me. I dutifully followed her, and that walk started my journey into a life of hell.

At the time, I didn’t know that there was no hope for my father, he had been on death’s door and the state had stepped in, forcing him to give them custody of me. I’m not sure what I would havedone with that knowledge, but I wish I’d been told before that day so that I could’ve at least said a final goodbye.

AGE SIX

“Demi,” Mrs. Mulligan, my case worker hissed as I slid into her passenger seat, roughly shutting the door to the point that the entire vehicle shook. “This is the eighth house you’ve been kicked out of. Things need to change. You can’t keep reporting the small stuff, Demi, otherwise, you’ll never find a place to belong.” Belong, that made me snort because I’d never fit in anywhere as long as she kept placing me with people who wanted to do things to me that were gross.

It’s not my fault that these houses have men that like to touch little girls for fathers and kids of their own, that I swear were spawns of the devil. I ignored her, used to her incessant rambling and trivial berating. The entire car ride to my next drop off was full of tension-filled silence. When we pulled up to the house, my entire body started to tremble and broke out into goosebumps.

The outside of the house was your typical suburban home. It was a pretty picture but for some reason, the couple standing on the front porch had me experiencing a sense of doom. It settled into my bones and had me twitchy. They smiled when necessary, they even laughed and were welcoming. But once those doors shut behind Mrs. Mulligan, the entire atmosphere changed.

Rules were laid out for me, and absolutely none of them made any sense to my six year old brain.

Don’t touch the fridge without permission–food is a privilege not a necessity.

Household chores–it’s up to me to keep the house spotless, and if I don’t, the consequences will be dire.

Children are to be seen, not heard.

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