Today, Jonathan hands me a belt with metal tips and tells me to whip her back.
This time, we aren’t alone. There are at least ten people watching. And even though I’m scared they’ll hurt Maria worse if I don’t do it...I can’t.
“I’m sorry, Mom. But I can’t.”
The words have barely left my mouth when Jonathan’s hand strikes my face. The slap sends me to the ground—but I don’t look away from him.
I hate him. If I could use that belt on him, I wouldn’t hesitate.
“Stupid little shit.”
They all leave the basement—including Mommy. But strangely, she doesn’t look afraid.
She looks angry. At me.
It takes me a moment to realize . . . they’ve forgotten to lock the door.
I haven’t been upstairs in over a month. They never let me go to school or play outside. Now, I’m not even allowed in the kitchen.
Last time I was there, I took an apple because I was starving. Jonathan called me a thief.
How could I steal from my own home?
Using all the strength I have left, I crawl up the stairs.
I hear voices—coming from the dining room.
Quiet as I can, I hide behind the door, trying to hear what they’re planning. Because I know it won’t be good.
Jonathan’s not going to let it go that I disobeyed him.
But then I hear something that stops me cold.
Mommy is laughing.
She’s laughing.
How can she be happy after being threatened and beaten?
A sick feeling churns in my stomach.
“That boy’s done,” I hear her say. “He’s no good anymore. We need to get another one. If he can’t handle a few beatings, imagine how he’ll react to what we’ve got planned next.”
“What do you want me to do?” Jonathan asks.
And just like that, I realize something else.
He’s not in charge.
She is.
Rage floods me like nothing I’ve ever felt.
She lied.
She played the victim this whole time—but she was the one behind everything.
I want to burst in and scream that she’s a liar. A traitor. But I’m not stupid.
