But that couldn’t have hurt the baby, right?
Mama points her finger at me before grabbing the crushed flowers and ripping them apart again.
She looks over at my father. “I’m tired of you letting this evil thing live with us,” she screams at him.
“But …” I cry, my lips trembling. “I’m not evil, Mama. I didn’t do anything to the baby. I love the baby!”
“Loved it so much that you killed it!” she shrieks, turning her back to me as she sobs. “Get her out of my sight.”
Papa shoves two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly toward the men across the field. “Fellas! Get over here!” he calls, waving them over.
I scramble back, crawling away from them in fear.
“Don’t try to run now, Blair,” my father warns. “Remember what happened last time you did that.”
As soon as the two other men reach me, they latch their hands on my arms and drag me away. I beg, scream, and apologize for whatever I did wrong.
But I didn’t kill my baby sister.
My father stalks behind us, allowing other men to do his dirty work, like he always does. When I see where they are taking me, I try to wrench myself free.
But they’re stronger.
They’re always stronger.
“Blair, this is for your own good,” my father says when we reach the rickety old wooden shed. He grabs the makeshift handle and opens the door.
The men shove me inside and slam the door shut behind me. I hear the lock click and scream.
I throw myself at the door, pounding on it, but it doesn’t budge.
For as weak as the shed looks, they made sure the lock worked well.
I fall onto the dirty ground and bang my fists against the door. Tears pour down my face so hard that they splash off my lips as I cry.
“Please!” I sob. “I’m so sorry! I never wanted to hurt the baby!”
My cheeks burn from the hot tears. They taste salty against my tongue when they reach my mouth.
I stare up at the small hole near the top of the shed. It’s already getting dark. Nighttime is always the worst.
Still sobbing, I grab the small, tattered blanket from the corner and wrap it around my shaking body. I cry so loud, hoping Mama will hear and come help me.
That anyone will hear and help me.
As the night grows later, I hear the insects chirping and the animals moving outside. Bugs fly through the hole. Once, a bird came in and stayed with me for a while. It let me pet it before it flew back out.
But tonight, there’s nothing.
No animal to soothe me.
No person to help me.
I curl the blanket tighter around my body and stare at the hole where a single star shines through.
Mama said I was evil, but I know one thing.
I’ll never be a mama like her.
