No Other Choice

T

The looming old-fashioned grandfather clock struck five and reverberated throughout the home, interrupting the girls’ play. Sarah sprang up, startled by the noise. With horror, she stared around the room at the Barbie toys scattered throughout the already cluttered living room. She glanced over at the sagging, dilapidated brown couch where her mother lay and met her cold, hard gaze.

“You better get this shit picked up before your father gets home. You know the consequences. I’m not defending you, just so you realize that.” Her mom took a swallow from a beer can and a prolonged drag from a cigarette then brought her attention back to watching her favorite TV show, Jeopardy, which played on the 32-inch flat-screen TV set against the wall.

Their mother had deep-set sienna brown eyes and stringy, greasy ash brown hair that hung down wildly in untamed curls. It was obvious she hadn’t washed it in a while. Her skin was pallid with red ruddy cheeks, and her snub nose was bright red, with spider veins running through it from years of hard-drinking. Her lips were thin and her skinny body emaciated. She looked like she hadn’t had a decent meal in months.

Sarah started trembling at the thought of her father arriving soon and raced around, to pick up the dolls, toys, and clothes. She knew they should have stuck to playing in their bedroom with their toys, but the living room was so much bigger. Their bedroom was the smallest room in the house, except for the bathroom, and it was hard to spread out their toys and play with them.

“Hurry, Rachel,” Sarah told her sister as she grabbed as much as she could carry at one time and tossed them into a box. “We need to get this picked up before Dad gets home. Remember the rule, nothing can be in the living room when he walks through the door! Get the car and dollhouse too. You know what he said he’d do last time. So hurry!” She gave her little sister a small push to get her moving.

Eight-year-old Rachel was small for her age with long, luminous golden blonde hair that hung to the middle of her back in waves with wisps hanging in her face. Her eyes were arctic blue like a deep, cold mountain lake that sparkled when she smiled. Her pixie-looking face had a button nose and heart-shaped lips like the color of strawberries. Her cheeks were as rosy as an apple. Twelve-year-old Sarah, on the other hand, had hair the color of mocha that spilled down her back in spiraling curls, and her eyes were deep-set, sienna brown. She had skin that was golden like she had spent a week at the beach. Her heart-shaped face held a daintily upturned nose and high cheekbones any model would envy. Her lips were plump, full, and pink, like cotton candy. Sarah was tall for her age, at five foot four, with long gangly arms and legs and a waist smaller than a hand span.

The girls raced through the living area, picking up the toys and throwing them into the box. They grabbed the dollhouse and the car and ran them into their room. Visions of what could happen if they don’t pick up in time filled their minds. Soon there was gravel crunching in the driveway. Sarah picked up the large green plastic box and ran into the bedroom with it. A car door slammed shut. Footsteps came up the walkway, then were climbing the stairs. The front door opened with a squeak and closed shut with a bang. When she came back out, her dad was in the living room, and she breathed a great sigh of relief. I made it just in time, she thought.

But then she saw it. A Barbie doll laying on the side of the couch in full view of her father’s gaze. She inched her way over to it, a little at a time, and stood in front, blocking it from her father’s view. She watched him enter the living room and walk towards the kitchen. He passed by the couch. Then he continued to walk towards the kitchen. Sarah bent down and grabbed the doll and stood back up and she breathed an even greater sigh of relief.

The Lewis family’s living room was devoid of all the toys, but wasn’t clear of everything. The scuffed and chipped, wooden thrift store coffee table sat next to the sagging, ripped brown couch, littered with beer cans and cigarette butts. There were dishes with old food stacked within the mess. On the floor were magazines piled haphazardly below the coffee table. A brown love seat that had also seen better days sat there sagging and ripped. A beige stained and worn-out recliner sat in the corner. The tan carpet had bare spots where you could see the wooden flooring below. The old stately grandfather clock stood about six feet tall, an inheritance from grandparents that were no longer alive.

Their father was a tall, burly man over six feet with golden skin and deep-set glacial blue eyes that looked fierce whenever he stared at someone. His haircut was military style, it was a tawny color with sparse gray hairs spread out. His chin was square and clean-cut, and his nose was bulbous with red spider veins traveling throughout it like a road map. He had full generous lips any woman would covet. Carl’s teeth were pearly white from regular dental care, the care he denied his daughters.

“Come to the kitchen, dinners here. We have McDonald’s. You and your sister get a hamburger, fries, and a coke. Take it to your room,” their mom said to the girls.

Rachel reached for her coke, and it slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, splattering soda over the floor, table, and chair legs in one big sticky, wet mess.

“RACHEL, you clumsy retarded little shit” Rachel’s mother grabbed her by her hair and flung her to the floor in the sticky mess. She raised her hand to slap her, but Sarah ran over and threw herself in front of Rachel, holding her arms out to defend her.

“It’s OK, I’ll clean the mess up, Mom. It was an accident. You can go eat, and I will deal with this mess.” Sarah looked at her mom with wide eyes, pleading with her to not hurt her sister.

Her mom nodded her head and looked at her with beady, squinted eyes. “Fine, but I better see it cleaned up right.” With that, she took her food and walked back into the living room to eat, leaving Sarah to clean up the colossal mess.

Relieved at averting her Mom’s violence, Sarah grabbed the rags and cleanser then she cleaned up the sticky soda off the floor and table. She gave a rag to Rachel so she could help in a small way. When they finished, they grabbed their food, and they fled into their bedroom to eat their dinner.

“Rachel, bedtime. Let’s get your pj’s on you. Here’s your favorite red and blue striped ones you like so much.”

“Can me stay up and watch My Wittle Pony on TV Sawah? Just one show? Pease! Can me, pease??” Rachel’s mouth twisted into a smile, and she twirled her hair with one finger.

With that request, Sarah’s mouth curled up, and her eyes twinkled. Rachel liked it when Sarah indulged her little desires. It was easy to make Rachel happy. They labeled Rachel developmentally delayed and that she was on the same level as a 3-year-old. She acted just like it. She could be difficult sometimes, and it wore on Sarah’s patience. But mostly, she was a sweet, easygoing, and loving child.

Sarah turned on the TV and got dressed for bed in her pink velvety but somewhat threadbare nightgown. She walked over to Rachel and tucked her into bed and kissed her on the cheek. Sarah settled into her own bed and drew the covers over her. She soon felt sleepy with her eyes heavy, but then she heard the dreaded squeak of the door. Her body got cold and stiff. No, not again, please not again, she thought. Her father slipped into the bedroom and, with almost no noise, walked over to her bed, pulled back the covers, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers back over them.

Sarah shrank back over to the very far edge of the bed. She dreaded these nightly visits from her dad because the darkness and shadows of the night hid many secrets. Sarah looked over at Rachel, but she was fast asleep. Thank God she usually sleeps through this. Please sleep through this, Sarah thought. Seeking to make herself as small as possible, she curled into a ball to protect herself from his prying hands. Afterwards, she curled up in bed and cried her heart out.

She wondered if her life was going to be like this forever.

The next day, the girls played with their Barbie dolls in the living room when Sarah heard gravel crunching in the driveway through the open window. With great concern, she looked at the grandfather clock, and, to her horror, it had stopped working at 9:05 that morning! Her mom sat on the couch, staring hard at her with an icy, calculating smile on her face.

Her mother laughed, shook her head, and pursed her lips in amusement. “I guess I forgot to tell you the clock’s broken.”

“Mom, why wouldn’t you tell us Dad was going to be home soon? WHY?” Sarah grabbed clothes and dolls and threw them in the box. “Hurry, Rachel! Pick it up. Put the stuff away. Quick!”

Her mother yawned, and her shoulders shook with obvious merriment. “I forgot. It’s not my job to make sure you pick up on time. Get a watch.” She took a long drag on her cigarette and blew it out slow and steady then turned her attention to the T. V.

It was not long before slow, deliberate steps came up the walkway and up to the front door. The door opened and then slammed shut with a bang.

“What is this ton of shit doing in this living room? You know the fucking rules. Now it’s time for consequences.” Their father walked into the living room and raised his foot and stomped on the Barbie car, shattering it into many sharp pieces. He then kicked the pieces and scattered them all over the living area. Then he stepped over to the Barbie house and kicked it across the room, splitting it into two pieces.

“Not my car and my Barbie house. They all broke now—all broke. Oh No! Oh

Noooooooo!!!!!!!” Rachel started screaming and crying.

“SHUT UP your blubbering NOW you moron, or I will give you a reason to cry, Rachel!” With a raised fist, he walked over to Rachel. When she saw him, she cowered to the ground in horror. Sarah raced over in front of Rachel to protect her, and her father slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the floor with a thud. In slow motion, she raised herself up on one arm, pulling herself closer to Rachel. A foot lifted, and she got kicked on the back of her thigh.

“Ouch!” Sarah cried as she pulled in her legs close to her body.

“Get this living room cleaned up NOW, Sarah. Or else! You have five minutes, or I throw the rest of the stuff out.” He continued to the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and retired to his favorite chair, a brown recliner that had seen better days. He sat watching his girls clean up the living room.

“Sarah, get over here and rub my feet. Do it just how I enjoy it. I had a long day at work,” he said as he stretched his feet out in front of him. His socks used to be white. Instead, they were a dingy gray color with holes in the toes and heel.

“Sarah needs to make dinner too, Carl. Little shit has been playing around all day. They need to earn their keep, I always say.” Sarah’s mom said.

“I made a tuna noodle casserole earlier, Mom, and it just needs to be heated,” Sarah tried explaining to her mother as she placed the casserole in the oven. She hurried to rub her dad’s feet for him as well.

“Well, make sure it’s done soon. We’re hungry. Make some biscuits with it and iced tea too. Don’t forget it,” she told Sarah in a blunt voice.

“That feels great, Sarah. Yeah, rub them good and hard. My feet are killing me from standing all day on the factory line. You’re doing such a good job. Thank you for doing this. I appreciate it. You’re my princess.”

Sarah cringed at the compliment. She didn’t get too many of them and when her father said them; it made her feel icky inside. He was only nice to her when he wanted something.

“You’re welcome, Dad. I’m glad it’s good for you. I know you work hard,” Sarah said as her dad smiled down at her.

Indeed, she knew he worked hard. That was something positive that he did. Her father never failed to go to work and always brought home a paycheck. He worked in a yogurt factory and stacked boxes all day long. He also worked many overtime hours to make enough for them to afford a house. Her dad made decent money, around $18 an hour, and $27 an hour for overtime. That’s more than she could say for her mother, who watched TV all day while smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. She could always find her mother on the couch, which seemed to be her permanent place in the house. Always with a cigarette and booze and many days she did illegal drugs like pot, cocaine, and heroin. Her father never complained and just worked harder and longer when they needed money. He might be a horrible father, but at least he was a good provider.

After she completed rubbing her dad’s feet, Sarah flew into the kitchen and finished working on dinner. After preparing the hot food, she served it to her parents and poured two glasses of icy cold tea. She dished out her and Rachel’s food before they walked to their room to watch TV.

Sarah needed to use the bathroom before going to bed. On her way out, she bumped into her father in the hallway.

“I have a special secret for you tomorrow, Sarah. We are going to have a fun time. I won’t give the surprise away. It will be fun for me, for you, not so much maybe. Hahaha. But be ready.” His eyes were wide, and he gave her the thumbs-up sign.

Sarah’s body started trembling. Surprises from her father were neither pleasant nor fun for her. They had always been things he liked, things he got satisfied with, but were awful for her. Now, she would spend the entire day worrying about what this surprise could be and her thoughts would focus on nothing else. Tomorrow, Sarah was going to need to keep herself busy after school with chores, TV, and reading to take her mind off it. It was nearing bedtime, and she spent some time playing with Rachel before she put her to bed.

Getting a board game off the shelf, she sat down on the floor. “Rachel, let’s play Candyland”

Rachel smiled and came over and sat down next to her. “Me love pwaying games, Sawah. You best!”

Sarah smiled. “I love to make you happy. Playing games with you is a lot of fun.”

“You make me happy, Sawah. Lot’s and lots!” Rachel said in her babyish voice.

Sarah tried hard to focus on the game and tried to force all other thoughts and worries out of her mind. She was only halfway successful as they would pop into her mind every so often. More often in her mind, then not.

She kept thinking those same thoughts as she pondered what was going to happen. When bedtime came, she had difficulty falling asleep as she replayed past scenarios in her mind. She wondered if it would be something that had happened in the past, like one of his past “secrets?” She shuddered. Those secrets were horrifying, and she never wanted to relive them again. When she finally fell asleep, it was fitful and restless with much tossing, turning, and waking up with memories of the past horrors in her life.

The sun streamed through the window on the soft pink carpet, casting shadows on the walls, when the alarm clock chimed at 6:00 am. Sarah rolled over in bed and rubbed her eyes. Then, she pushed the covers off her and got up from the bed, and padded over to the dresser. She pulled out a pair of black jeans with holes in the knees, a white and pink shirt that had a few stains on it, a white pair of underwear, and a dingy pair of white socks with gaps in the toes. Her scuffed white sneakers were in the closet, so she dug them out and put them on. She walked over to Rachel’s bed and stroked her arm.

Rachel opened her eyes and smiled. “Hi, Sawah. Is school today?” She sat up a little at a time, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. She swung her legs over the bed and stood up.

“There sure is, Rachel. You need to be good now and listen to your teacher.”

Sarah walked to her dresser and removed a pair of black jeans, a red and black Elmo t-shirt with a hole in the sleeve, black socks, and a pair of black underwear. She motioned for Rachel to hold her arms up and dragged the t-shirt over her head. Rachel tried putting on the rest of her clothes herself but had trouble with the pants, so Sarah held out the pants and Rachel put her feet into them. The last thing Sarah had to do was get a black pair of sneakers out of the closet for Rachel to wear.

The sun was shining in the bright yellow and white kitchen through many large windows covered with dingy white and yellow checkered curtains that needed to be washed. The white farmhouse table was littered with empty beer bottles and cigarette butts from the day before. In order to sit down and eat, Sarah tried her best to clear the kitchen table. The smell of stale cigarette smoke was oppressive and made Sarah gag, but she wanted to have a clean space for her and Rachel to eat. After she accomplished that, she went to the cabinet to look for something to eat. It wasn’t easy. There wasn’t much to choose from since their mother had not gone shopping in a while. It was common for her to keep very little food in the house for the girls, so they were grateful for whatever they could find for breakfast. There was a partially filled box of generic Cheerios, so she grabbed that. It wasn’t their favorite cereal, but it would have to do for now. She filled two bowls with cereal and milk, and they sat down and ate. There was no sugar to be found, and the cereal tasted stale and bland, but they finished it. Then Sarah washed the bowls and silverware in the sink. Soon the time came for them to leave, and Sarah gathered their homework and schoolbooks before putting them in their backpacks.

The wind blew through the trees, making the branches sway, and the sun glowed in the sky while the girls walked to school. Rows of cars lined the streets as busy people headed off to work. Trees dotted the landscape, offering some respite from the warm sun beating down on their heads. There were lots of insects buzzing around their heads, and an orange and black Monarch butterfly fluttered by, causing Rachel to shout with delight. During the five blocks it took to get to school, Sarah held Rachel’s hand when they crossed over several streets. They reached The Meadows School in 10 minutes.

The Meadows Schools were three red brick buildings, two stories high, with a large playground, tennis courts, basketball courts, and an enormous field. In the back was a large building that held the pool. There were 1200 students in the school district, and the elementary school, middle school, and high school were right next to each other. The elementary school had doors all around the building for the different grades the students were in. The ground was asphalt and smooth and black. There were yellow lines on the ground in front of the doors showing where the students were to stand and the playground was on the right side of the elementary school that accommodated kids up to the sixth grade. It was a vast playground costing over $20,000, and the students helped raise money for it by selling cookies, candy, calendars, and candles for two years prior to it being built. Everyone was proud they had a part in building it. There was a field behind the school with lines on the ground for soccer and football and on one side there were baseball cages. For the high school side, they had bleachers for spectators and a huge scoreboard that towered over the field. Nearby, a white metal building with double doors in the front small windows up by a silver roof marked the pool building. The school district consisted mostly of middle-class families, but there were also upper and lower-class kids that attended. They considered Sarah and Rachel Lewis lower-middle class based on their father’s income so they qualified for free lunch, which meant they got to have a variety of good food.

This school year, Sarah was in 6th grade and Rachel was in 1st grade. Next year Sarah would go to the middle school while Rachel remained in elementary school. Rachel was a year behind since she had to repeat kindergarten. There was talk about putting her in a special education classroom since she still was not progressing as fast as her peers. Emotionally, she was still a toddler and had social interaction problems. Rachel hadn’t yet realized that she was different from her peers, but that wouldn’t last for long once others noticed she differed from them. This would only grow worse as time moved on, but her behavior problems were minimal, and she was mostly a compliant child in school. She just grew frustrated when she couldn’t keep up both academically and socially. Their mother had to attend Rachel’s IEP special education meetings, and she resented it, but she came and just said little during the meeting. She never helped Rachel with her homework because she considered it Sarah’s job. She had no clue what Rachel could and couldn’t do. She only gave a cursory glance at their report cards before she signed and returned them. They recommended Rachel get a tutor outside of school, but Lavern never followed through with that when she found out it would cost her money to do so.

Sarah brought Rachel to her door. “Here’s your door, Rachel. Please be good today and do what your teacher says.”

Rachel bobbed her head. “Me will. I promise… pinky swear me will.”

“Don’t forget to eat all your lunch. Not just the desert. You hear me?” Sarah asked.

Rachel put her hands on her hips. “I do dat. The lunch teacha is meany. She makes us eat all food we have.”

“That makes me happy. So, have a great day!” Sarah said.

Then, she headed over to where the sixth graders gathered. The kids laughed and pushed each other while they waited for the teachers to open the doors. Everyone was with their cliques and she saw several distinct groups. Seeing Piper over by the door, Sarah rushed over and hugged her best friend. She never got hugged at home and almost never experienced affection in her life, but Piper and her mom had always hugged Sarah since the beginning in kindergarten. They taught her what love and affection were. Sarah learned to crave these tokens of affection and wanted them as often as possible. Piper was like a sister to her and was an imaginative child who did not care what other people thought of her. Today, she wore orange pants with a purple and orange polka-dotted shirt. To top the outfit off, she wore a fuzzy orange hat. Sarah smiled when she saw the outfit. Piper had a liberated soul by being herself, and Sarah loved that. She lacked Piper’s self-confidence, though and cared too much about what people thought of her. Piper had wild, untamed, curly hair that hung down her back in corkscrew curls. Her hair was strawberry blonde and looked strikingly like the character of Strawberry Shortcake. She had pale, milky-white smooth skin with a scattering of reddish-brown freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her eyebrows were thin, matching the color of her hair and her eyes were a soul-piercing crystal blue fringed with long, thick strawberry blond eyelashes. Her nose was straight and thin on her heart-shaped face. Piper’s body was willowy like a reed without an ounce of fat on it, and she was much taller than Sarah at 5 foot 7. She towered over her peers, who were all mostly under five feet, even the boys.

“Hey Piper, how’s it going? How are ya, today?” Sarah gave her a big smile and held up her hand for a high five.

Piper gave her a big high five back. “I’m great, girlfriend! I watched a stupid movie last night. That love story where Mark and Tracy fell in love and lived happily ever after. So fake, if you ask me.” She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and laughed.

After a moment of hesitation, Piper got a serious look on her face and moved closer to Sarah’s ear. “Did your father come into your room last night?” She cocked her head to one side and pressed her lips together.

“No, not last night, thankfully. He left me alone.” Sarah said into Piper’s ear. “But he said he had a surprise for me today. He said it may not be fun for me but will be fun for him. It doesn’t sound very good.”

Piper stood up straight. ’’Good, I am glad he left you alone. But what’s up with this surprise? I agree, it doesn’t sound good. I wish I could do something for you. For real, I wish you would tell someone. But I know, I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything and I keep my promises.”

Sarah’s eyes got huge. “No, say nothing! He will kill me. Literally, I mean.”

Piper reached her hand out and stroked Sarah’s arm. “I promise I won’t. I am here for you, bestie!”

They entered the school and walked down the hall filled with children, laughing and talking. Everyone was in a great mood. They found their homeroom classroom and walked to their seats. Their teacher, Marnie McMahon, sat at her desk, getting ready to take attendance.

Marnie McMahon was 38 years old, and she married Roger McMahon 17 years ago when she was 21. Although she had been trying to conceive for years, even with fertility treatments, she had been unsuccessful. She cared and loved her students with the same intensity as if they were her own children. Teaching was her passion and she took great pride in it. She was an excellent teacher, which made her students love and admire her.

“O. K guys, time to quiet down now. Time for attendance. Say yes when I say your name. “

Each student said “Yes” and she counted 24 students in class today.

After attendance, she asked them to take out a piece of paper. Sarah and Piper had Mrs. McMahon for first period English. “O. K guys, here’s your assignment. I want you to tell me about something that makes you feel afraid. Then I want you to address what you can do to overcome that fear. I want you to do one of these for each day of this week. I will have different topics to address. This will be your writing work for the week. You can keep them in your folder and I will collect the folders each day,”

Sarah thought about the assignment. She had a lot of fears, but would she dare put them down on paper? There were too many things she could never reveal to her teacher because there would be terrible repercussions if she told. The main one was her father, who would literally kill her if she told anything that was going on at home. Sometimes you have to keep secrets, she thought. But she thought it would be nice to figure out ways to overcome those many fears because she had way too many of them for one 12-year-old little girl.

She started writing.

I am afraid of bedtime in the dark.

But what could she write about concerning bedtime? She couldn’t write that her father came into her room at night and touched her. He said he would kill her if she told. And he had hurt her severely enough times for her to believe his words were true.

But what should I write?

I am afraid of the dark and of the shadows. I am afraid someone will come and get me and touch me in a bad way. I am nervous. It can hurt me in the dark. I don’t like what I can’t see because I can’t see in the dark. I am anxious about what I can’t see. But I fear what I might see too. I feel there is something in the dark that can reach out and hurt me. I feel someone can enter and hurt me. I can get hurt in the dark.

O. K, she thought. Now how can I overcome it? I know what I wish I could do. I would lock the door if our door had a lock. But maybe I shouldn’t write that, she thought.

She wrote, I can be brave in the dark and fight off anything that can hurt me. If that doesn’t work, then I can hide and no one will find me. I can run away too. Run far away from the dark and shadows, where no one can find me.

O. K, I am done with the assignment. Most of what she wrote she could not do herself, but wished she could do. She wrote her name at the top, and she placed it in her folder.

After the last bell rang, Sarah gathered her backpack and walked to the first-grade door to retrieve Rachel before heading home. Rachel waited for her, rocking back and forth, with her head held back and the wind blowing her long blonde hair. She seemed lost in her own world. Sarah took her hand, and they strolled down the five blocks toward their home. Rachel stopped every so often to pick dandelions from the grass. When they arrived, their mother was on the couch, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. She did not look up from the TV when they walked through the door. The coffee table had beer cans and cigarette butts strewn about and the air was stale and hazy with cigarette smoke. Then, they smelled the distinctive cloying and sweet smell of marijuana. Today, their mother’s hair hung down loose, and it was greasy and stringy. Her clothes also looked unwashed and unkempt. Sarah stopped by the couch.

“Hi, Mom,” she said as she chewed the cuticle on one of her fingers.

Her mother’s mouth turned into a scowl, and her eyes narrowed into slits. “What do you want?”

Sarah’s mouth drooped. “Nothing, I was just saying hi. We just got home from school.”

Her mother pursed her lips tight and reached her arm out and pointed her finger at Sarah. “Oh, whatever. You always want something from me. Make sure you do your chores before you do any playing. You hear me?” She dropped her hand into her lap.

Rachel approached her mother with the dandelions in her hand. “Mommy, I pick dis for you.”

Lavern Lewis looked at the dandelions and her face softened a bit. “Thank you, Rachel. You can get a small cup with water and bring it in here and put it on the coffee table next to me.”

Her mom shocked Sarah with her kindness to Rachel. That was almost unheard of in this home. Rachel ran to the kitchen and got a small cup of water and put the weeds in it and brought it out to the coffee table. She smiled at her mother and then ran into the kitchen for a snack.

Sarah stared at her for a few seconds, raised her eyebrows, and walked out of the room into the kitchen. She started on the dishes that her mother had piled in the sink. Then she washed the counters and the table and swept the floor. She brought out the mop and bucket, filled the bucket with hot soapy water, and mopped the kitchen floor. When she finished, she pulled out her and Rachel’s homework. Rachel needed a ton of help with her schoolwork. She was in mainstream classes but had a personal aide to help her in class since they labeled her learning disabled and developmentally delayed. This made for many tears during homework time for Sarah and Rachel. The girl’s mom did not help them with their homework whatsoever. That chore, too, got put on Sarah’s back and was her responsibility. It was a responsibility she took seriously and vowed to help Rachel live up to her full potential, whatever that may be, even if it meant she couldn’t do the things normal children did and accomplished. Even if it meant more work on her back too.

Sarah hoped there would not be a struggle today.

“Rachel, time for homework,” Sarah said.

“No, not now. I coloring,” Rachel said as she was coloring with a yellow crayon on a Mickey Mouse coloring cook.

“Yes, it’s time now. Here’s your math sheet. Come on Rachel. Let’s just get it finished.” Sarah reached over and pulled the coloring book away from Rachel.

“No, no, no.” Rachel rocked back and forth and dropped the crayons on the floor.

Sarah put her arm around Rachel and rubbed her back and kissed her on the head. “Rachel, stop it. Please. The faster you get it finished, the faster you can get back to coloring.”

The clock on the wall showed it was 4:30, and Sarah knew she had to start dinner. Anxiety filled her, and sweat beaded on her forehead because dinner had to be on the table at 5:00 sharp. She rummaged in the pantry, looking for the pasta and sauce to put on the stove. She found Ragu sauce, pasta and a pan, then she put the water on the stove to boil the pasta in. After she did that, she turned back to Rachel’s homework.

“Rachel, can you please try? You know how to add these numbers. 2+2= what? You know the answer. O. K?” Sarah looked into Rachel’s eyes with yearning, wanting her to say yes.

“O. K, Sawah. It 4. O. K? Is wight?” Rachel’s eyes got big, and a smile filled her face.

Sarah threw her arms around Rachel and gave her a big hug. “YES! That’s right, Rachel. Good girl! I knew you could do it. Now, what’s the next one. 3+3=what?”

Rachel cocked her head to one side and pursed her lips. Then she gave a big, wide-toothed smile. “6! That is it. Wight, Sarah? Is it wight?”

“YES, Rachel, right again. Good girl. I am proud of you. O. K, you do the rest of the problems yourself while I work on dinner,” Sarah said.

Rachel did the remaining eight problems and then turned back to her coloring. Sarah checked her work, and they were all correct. She smiled and put the worksheet into Rachel’s folder and put that in the backpack. It filled Sarah with happiness that this was the only homework Rachel had today. Then she worked on her own homework, and she too had a light amount of work. It was nice to have an easy and stress-free day with homework.

Sarah finished making dinner and got the food ready for the plates. The clock chimed 5:00. Right on time, she thought. And also, right on time, she heard the door slam shut and her father was home. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she thought about what her dad had said to her last night about the surprise today. She hoped he had forgotten. PLEASE have forgotten, she thought. She walked over to the food, made up a plate for her mom, and brought it out. Her mother, as usual, did not even thank her for it. She did not even look up at her when she handed it to her either. Then she made a plate for her father. She brought it into the living room.

“Here’s your food, Dad,” she announced as she handed him his hot steaming food.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten you have a surprise tonight, girlie, hahaha, I haven’t. Just wait until 7:00. It’s going to be fun, fun, fun! I even get a keepsake of the night. Get ready!” He said with a sly smirk on his face, then his face softened. “Oh yeah, thanks for the food. You always do a good job when you cook. I look forward to my dinner when I come home from work. Your mom doesn’t cook shit for me.”

Sarah didn’t hear the gratitude for the food, just the comment about the surprise. She shrunk in on herself and hunched her shoulders, then walked away. He hadn’t forgotten, and it sounded like it would not be a fun night. If it were going to be fun for him, it would not be fun. I just know it, she thought.

After everyone finished eating, Sarah did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. She kept a close eye on the clock. Minutes ticked away. She looked again at the time. It was 6:45. Only 15 minutes away. She ran into her room to see what Rachel was doing. Rachel played with her baby doll and her baby clothes without a sound in the corner of the room. Satisfied that Rachel occupied herself and would not get involved with whatever might happen, Sarah walked out to the living room. It was 7:00. There was the crunching of gravel in the driveway. A car door slammed shut, and slow footsteps approached the home. Then a knock on the door interrupted the quiet of the residence. Her father walked to the door and answered it and a very tall, very thin man in a black and brown checkered shirt and skin-tight black leather pants came into the house. He had a shaved head and a red jagged scar on his sunken in, gaunt cheek. Small, close-set, red-rimmed beady brown eyes with paper-thin lips and a sharp-pointed, bent nose that looked like a hawk covered his face. He gawked at Sarah with a lopsided grin and a long, steady stare. There was a big black bag with him.

“So here’s the little star. Ain’t she a little beauty. The camera will love her, ALL of her, hahaha.” he put his hands on his hips as he laughed.

“That she is. I don’t produce ugly kids. I produce good-looking kids. She will do good. She does what her daddy tells her to do. I make sure of that.” His face was hard and mean, and he squeezed his lips together. “Sarah, come into my bedroom with us.”

Fear boiled in Sarah’s stomach, and sweat started pouring down her forehead as she had broken out into a cold sweat and shivered really badly. With her feet planted firm on the ground, she did not move.

“Sarah, move, NOW.” Her father gripped her arm and dragged her to the bedroom, banging her arm in the doorway on the way into the room. On the bed was a white lace nightgown. It was low cut and very revealing, leaving little to the imagination. Not very proper for a 12-year-old little girl. She put it on and the man took pictures and videos of her and then suggested her father get in the pictures.

After what seemed like forever, the man said he’s done, and her father got off the bed. As fast as she could, Sarah got up off the bed and grabbed her clothes, and ran out of the room. Laughter followed Sarah out the door and down the hall to her room. She opened her door and ran inside as fast as her legs could carry her. She closed the door and threw herself on her bed, and started sobbing her heart out. Rachel was still playing on the floor with her dolls and came rushing over to Sarah.

“Was wong, Sawah? Was wong? you ok? Do you have boo-boo?” She rubbed Sarah’s head and back and kissed her neck.

Sarah lifted her head up and looked at Rachel through her tears. She did not want to alarm her, but what could she tell her?

She sat up and took Rachels’s chin in one of her hands and looked into her eyes. “I have a bellyache. My belly hurts, and I don’t feel so good. I will get better soon, so don’t worry” She stroked Rachels’s face in gentle motions with her other hand.

“Oh, O.K. Take boo-boo drops and get better, Sawah. I wuv you much. You me biggest sister!” She grabbed Sarah around the neck and gave her a big hug.

Sarah smiled at the innocence of her sister, and she was glad she could shield her from as much as she could. She didn’t know what she might do if her father started doing to Rachel what he did to her because the violence was horrible enough. If that day came, she knew she’d have to take action. But would I have the capability of changing the situation myself? she wondered.

Sarah sat and thought about the things that were happening to her. They made her have terrible feelings inside. Emotions came to a boiling point, and she had no way of releasing them. She just wanted the pain to end. The terrible feelings overwhelmed her, and she needed to get away from them. There was a pair of scissors sitting on her desk. It was like they were calling her name and it drew her to them. She picked them up and looked at them. They were so shiny when the light hit them and sharp like a knife. She wondered what they would feel like on her skin. Taking the scissors in one hand, she dragged them across her wrist. A thin line of blood appeared and the feelings she got were unexpected. Yes, it hurt a lot, but it also felt wonderful. It filled her with confusion because it made little sense. Why would it feel so good? She did it again and experienced her bad feelings slipping away. Her eyes were wide and her smile was big at how good it felt and she wanted more. Again, she slid the scissor down her arm and another line of blood glistened in the light. Feeling better, she put the scissor down and grabbed a tissue from her box. She wiped off the blood and there were 3 distinct red lines across her wrist. When she was calm, she got ready for bed and sleep came almost immediately. She didn’t have her usual nightmares and dreams. She had a peaceful night of sleep.