Page 51 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Blackness clouds my vision, dirty water splashing into my gaping mouth as Colin drops me to my knees. They hit the ground with a crack.
The scream leaving me is silent, nothing more than a huge breath, but it’s still loud enough to piss off the evil clown.
The round toes of his shoes feel like they are made from steel as they dig deep into my stomach.
I fall back into the water, completely crouched over as I try to stand. Bubbles float to the surface, but my wavering arms don’t have the energy to keep my face above water.
More bubbles.
I’m fading. My senses are slipping from my body when my head screams out as giant hands grip my skull. Forced against the wall by Chuckles, he moves his face far too close to mine.
I’m choking again, this time on the smoke from his stale cigarette, when he says, “Let this be a lesson that I don’t like fucking noise.”
He runs a finger to my lips, shushing me instantly.
There’s nothing I can do to stop my body from shaking with the fear I feel, but I force myself to calm my breathing, letting out small and controlled breaths through O-shaped lips, trying my best to stay quiet.
Taking it all in, the smile on his face tells me how terrible he is because he enjoys my terror, and I’m only grateful he can’t see what’s happening beneath the water as warmth surrounds me.
I’m still unable to stop myself from shaking when his big feet pound the stairs, and only when he closes the door and locks it on the other side do I take the giant breaths I need.
I grow colder, and rubbing my hands over my arms fails to warm me up.
Dollie crawls over through the water to get to my side. “Are you okay?”
I shouldn’t answer her, shouldn’t tell her my current feelings, but I do with a croaky voice. “I hate you right now. I really hate you.” My mind thinks little of my injuries and encourages me to say it again and again. “I hate you right now. I really hate you. I hate you right now. I really hate you.”
A tear drops down my face, and with the gentlest touch, she brushes it away.
Blue nail polish sparkles even in this dim light.
“No, you don’t. You’re just mad at me, right? You’re just mad. You don’t really hate me, do you?” Dollie places her small, wet pink jacket over me and huddles at my side.
I don’t reply, but my flared nostrils give me away as she stares up at me.
“He said he was taking us to Dahlia’s party. I just wanted to go to the party.”
“He lied.” My throat hurts as I talk, but I keep my voice quiet for another reason. “We weren’t invited to the party, and I don’t want to hear another word about it. I don’t care about Dahlia or her stupid party. That freak upstairs is a dirty liar, and now we’re locked down here with no way out. And we’re never gonna see Mom and Dad again. And he’s just gonna hurt us whenever he feels like it. You should have listened to me, Dollie.” My voice breaks. “You should have listened.”
“Daddy will find us. He always comes looking.”
“Yeah.” I pause, resting my throat for a small moment. “When we’re at home, playing hide and seek. Dad isn’t gonna find us here.”
“He will. Like in the movies, the princess always gets rescued.”
“Not in the kind of movies I watch, and you aren’t a princess. No one is coming for us.”
“Daddy says I am.” Her gaze steers away from me and moves to her nails, which she begins to pick at.
I itch with irritation for the grubby habit and turn away so I don’t have to see it. “Well, he’s wrong. You’re a nuisance and nothing else.”
“Why are you still being mean?” she asks in a small voice, probably as scared as I am of the repercussions.
“Because I’m hurt!” My head snaps to her, and I speak too loudly. Instantly, my eyes move to the door.
We’re both quiet, as is everything upstairs.
“It’s your fault we’re in this mess,” I tell her with an altered tone. “I just wish you’d listened. I wish we were home.”
