Sometimes.
Besides, she took my book bag with all my stuff. And my teacher, Mrs. Conner, always gets mad when I forget my books and homework.
Releasing a quiet sob, I watch the bus pull away, wishing that I was on it and on my way to school instead of having to get money for Mama.
Balling my right hand into a fist, I lash out and strike the side of the trailer. Pain wracks my hand as my knuckles land against the unforgiving aluminum siding. Clutching my bloody, bruised knuckles against my chest, my entire body shakes with pent-up anger.
It's not fair that other kids have mothers who cook and clean and tuck them in at night and that they have fathers who play ball and read them bedtime stories.
Why didn't I get to have parents who do things like that? Parents who love me? What did I do to deserve a life like this?
I must be rotten inside, just like Mama says. She's told me a lot of times that I was a mistake; that I wasn't supposed to be born.
Maybe she's right. And now I'm being punished for it.
Reluctantly, I force my feet to move to the rundown trailer next-door. I climb the rickety stairs of the porch and slowly push through the front door, which is ajar.
Mr. Merton is waiting for me in the living room when I walk in. He's old and fat, but he always gives me something to eat…after the bad things happen.
A cruel smile is on his face as he leads me back to his bedroom. He slams the door shut and locks it, making me shudder in terror.
"Take off your clothes and get on the bed, boy," he instructs.
I stare at him in confusion. Usually I just have to strip and touch myself while he touches himself. Sometimes he touches me to show me what to do or what he likes…but he never asked me to get on the bed before.
"W-what?" I ask.
"Are you deaf, boy?" he asks, knocking me on the side of my head with his fat fist. "I said take off your clothes and get on the bed."
Not wanting to anger him any more than I already have, I quickly take off my t-shirt and shorts. I wish Mama would buy me some new underwear. Maybe I wouldn't have to be totally naked, and maybe Mr. Merton would let me keep them on at least.
I stand by the edge of the bed, eyeing the dirty, discolored mattress. There are no sheets; just a greasy pillow that looks stained with sweat.
"Get. On. The. Bed." He says each word separately as if I'm stupid and can't understand him.
I'm not stupid. Mrs. Connor told me I'm one of the brightest boys she's ever met. It's just that Mama doesn't let me go to school enough, so I'm always behind. I'm always paying the price because she needs her stupid medicine.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts when Mr. Merton roughly grabs my arm and forces me onto the bed. I crawl to the middle, covering myself as best I can with my hands. I watch as he undresses, not wanting to look, but needing to know what his next move is.
He's fat, and his large rolls move and shake as he walks over to the bed and lies down beside me.
I'm figuring this will be like all the other times, and that he won't actually touch me or hurt me.
I keep telling myself that over and over in my head as if somehow they'll come true.
But that time was different with Mr. Merton, because he didn't just make me cry…
He made me scream.
CHAPTER 14
ADELINE
I'M RIPPED OUT of a deep sleep by the sound of someone screaming. It takes a moment to find the switch to the lamp next to me. And by the time the light illuminates the room, Lucien's cries for help have intensified.
It's not the first time he's awoken me from a bad dream he'd had since I moved into his room, but he's never reacted this profoundly before. His tortured cries freeze the blood running through my veins, and I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes as he murmurs, "Please, no. Don't touch me. Please.It hurts!"
I've only garnered a little information about Lucien's past from what he's shared with me, but I know that he suffered immensely as a child, much more than he'll probably ever admit to me…or anyone.
