My eyes flutter open to the sound of the tv humming. It's early, too early and my body aches from the night before. I look around and see a small boy with a mop of hair plopped down on the dirty green carpet. The television is tuned to one of his favorite shows; Sesame Street. I blink and half smile as he turns to look at me, making sure I'm not bothered by the noise or lights. I sit up on the couch, sinking my feet into the carpet as I do. Damn, this place is filthy, but we're lucky to be here, to have a roof over our heads.
I close my eyes a moment as a bright, colorful yellow bird appears on the screen; his name is Big Bird I think. Too many long nights, too many drugs, too much alcohol, too many men. I wipe the thought away from my head as I walk to the fridge, opening it to find not much in there, a little milk, if it isn't expired I'll let Christian have it with the last of the cereal. He's so small for a boy his age.
I walk back to the bedroom to find something to wear, and find clothes strewn all over the floor, the bed, on the radiator that doesn't work. Christian slept in here last night, how unusual. He doesn't like to sleep by himself and will usually follow me to the couch or when I'm not home he'll head just a few doors down in our apartment to Old Lady Pat, she's very sweet. Poor, like us, but she makes due just fine on her own.
I pull on a pair of fitted jeans and a semi-clean t shirt, at least I hope it's clean. I walk back into the room and smile at Christian as he's glued to the television, talking along with the creepy vampire guy that's counting.
"One…..two….free…" aside from saying three wrong, he's very smart, and I beam with pride.
He momentarily glances in my direction as I get him out a bowl and fill it with Cap'n Crunch cereal and the last of the milk and smile at him as I place it on the table. He quickly runs over and scoots into a chair and props himself up on his knees to eat and still see the tv.
"You hungry Mommy?" Christian looks guilty at the food as I sit in a chair next to him with nothing in front of me.
"No honey, I ate already, eat up." I stroke his unruly mop of copper colored hair and he smiles and digs in.
I frown, this is the life we live in Detroit, Michigan. I'm a low time prostitute with a drug habit with a little boy that gets abused and beaten by my "boyfriend" as I call him in front of Christian. Terry is really not so bad, as long as I pay him everything I made and share the drugs with him. I shudder at the thought of him coming by today, I got stiffed on money and the drugs, too. Terry will probably fuck him up later too, after me, of course….after Christian...that's how he really controls me. He beats Christian 9 ways to Sunday and I sit back and watch, stepping in makes it worse, that's when he burns him with the lit cigarettes. Last time I tried to stop that he burned him twice and cut my arm and hair with a dull pocket knife. Christian tries to stay out of his way, and I try to hide him at Old Lady Pat's place, but she couldn't protect herself if Terry was in a tirade and wanted to hurt Christian.
"Ella," she tells me, "You need to leave, leave Terry, Detroit, Michigan all together and get a real life and career for yourself and your little boy. You can't be smoking dope and shooting up drugs all the time and sleeping with nasty men just to make a few dollars." Even for 78 years old she really knows how to tell it how she sees it.
Even though Old Lady Pat is right, she's wrong. We couldn't leave even if we tried, we have no money, no car, no idea where else to go, and I have little education. My mom died when I was young, dad was a drunk and I left at 15, traveling from Cleveland, Ohio on a bus. I was pretty excited to be on my own, at first. I got a job at a local diner as a waitress, making scraps but it was a living and I did it all on my own. I had my own apartment, the bus went to and from my work. Things were looking up.
I remember the day though, I'd had a boyfriend, wonderful guy really, Jake. He was killed in a drug deal gone bad, I didn't even know he did drugs, I'd never tried them. Eventually things went from bad, to worse, I had a hard time making rent, my job didn't want to pay me more, but I stuck it out. I met Terry a few days after I was kicked out of my apartment and living in an alley behind the diner. He offered me a job, and at the time he made it sound like it was the best thing in the world. I could party, I could stay up late, hang out and make a damn good wage, as long as I worked for him and did what he said.
I quickly found cocaine, and lots of alcohol. I mainly used to numb the pain of doing what I was doing, but I was just happy to have a place to live, and some money to use. Eventually a couple years later I found out I was pregnant, I don't know who the father was, but I tried to kick the habit. Terry didn't like that but didn't want to totally fuck up the kid and lose me. At first it was hard, he was born addicted to drugs and alcohol, but soon was better. I could no longer stand on the streets to attract men, Terry had to bring them by the apartment instead so I wouldn't have to spend his money on a babysitter.
I slip out of my thoughts when I hear a knock on the door and shudder to think it's Terry, but then again he doesn't knock he just crashes in. Christian stills, terror etching on his face and a fight or flight response making him look itchy to go. I look at him and he stills, still clenched but relaxing more as he realizes too, that it isn't Terry.
I open the door and smile to see it's Old Lady Pat. She's come to pay Christian a visit. I let her in and give her a wide berth so she doesn't trip on the carpet with her cane. A small wrapped package is in her hand.
"Christian, Pat is here to see you." He looks over and waves, then devours the rest of his bowl.
"Ella, I tried to call, but it seems your phone is out again. I guess Terry isn't paying for your necessary equipment anymore is he." She scowls at me and I give her a guilty smile in response.
"I just wanted to stop by and see Christian before I go off to California for my grand daughter's wedding. I'll be gone for a while, and I don't know if I'll be able to make it to his birthday or not."
Old Lady Pat holds out a package, and Christian eyes is suspiciously. I frown in disgust at myself, I haven't been able to give him things he needs like new shoes, new clothes or things he wants like toys, books, ice cream. My heart aches with horrible guilt at myself for being a horrible mother. I blink away the tears before Christian can see.
His eyes light up with absolute joy when he opens his present to find a new toy car, he rushes out of the room to grab another one and looks up so happily at us both.
"Now I have two cars! They can race and go fast!" He beams and we beam back at him.
"Now, thank Pat and go play for a minute while we talk." He stops, looking confused and flustered that he might have forgotten manners and thanks her very sweetly and runs off to play in front of the television.
Pat turns to me with a look on her face that I can't quite place. "It seems about time that boy had a bath, Ella. Also, you look like you could use one yourself." I blush at her and she smiles, "But having children is messy and time flies by before you know what to do with it." She looks kindly and strict, not wanting to make me feel uncomfortable about myself. She turns to go, and pulls me in tight for a hug, holding my hand and not letting go until I notice she's handed me $50. I gape at her in shock.
"Pat, I can't, I-" She holds up her hand to stop me and points to Christian.
"You most certainly can, that boy needs feeding and some proper clothes. So use it and don't let it get into the wrong hands or I'll lay my cane on you. Understood?" She stares at me very serious, but I know she says it with love for us. I nod, holding back tears of gratefulness. She smiles and without waiting for me to reply she shuts the door behind her.
I turn to Christian, who is still planted on the floor playing with his car. I wipe away the tears flowing to my cheeks and take a deep steadying breath.
"Christian sweetie, would you like to go shopping with mommy?" The thought of ice cream crosses my mind, but I don't bring it up so I won't disappoint him if we can't afford it.
He turns and eyes light up like Christmas. He holds up his car without having to ask, I nod that he can take his car with us.
We climb off the bus carefully not to spill our bags full of food and Christian's old pair of shoes, he's wearing a new pair that we got on sale, they aren't the best looking, but they fit his feet and have a little room for him to grow. He can't stop looking at his feet as one side lights up; the other doesn't and it makes me realize why they were on sale. I check how much money is left and to my surprise we have enough left to get him an ice cream. At the parlor across the street that he always stares at in hope he orders a strawberry and I take a plain vanilla. We laugh at the mess he makes and attempt to clean him up with napkins. I take lots of them and put them in my pocket, Christian stares at me as I do this, but doesn't say anything, already knowing why I do what I just did.
Afterwards we get home and he heads to the bathroom and starts himself a bath, I sigh inwardly at the fact that he's really pretty self sufficient, he gives himself baths, he feeds himself, when he knows we have food and he plays by himself. I marvel at him sometimes. I start to put the food away when I can hear someone bounding through the door. It's Terry, and he's pissed.
He looks at me and sees the bags of food I'm putting away and starts to kick at them, and throwing them across the apartment; milk goes flying and explodes against a bare wall in the living room above the tv. I start to shudder and huddle and cry. I know Christian has already hidden himself somewhere.
"You stupid fucking bitch! You think it's okay for you to spend my fucking money?! How much did you spend that you earned last night?" I try to find my voice quickly.
"Randy didn't pay me and took the drugs so I-" My eyes light up with stars as he slaps me across the face sending me into the counter.
"He didn't fucking pay you and he took my fucking drugs! You're a worthless, disgusting piece of shit, you know that! Dumb whore can't even get paid!" He then realizes that he threw food everywhere and I brace for the hit that comes quickly.
"If Randy didn't pay you, where did the money come to buy all this shit, huh?" I blink, my eye is starting to swell.
"I found it...on the sidewalk," I can't tell him Old Lady Pat gave it to me or he'll kill her, "so I decided to get some food for Christian and I." He looks around for a moment, noticing that he isn't in the room with us.
"You found it…"his voice seems to calm for a moment, "I don't fucking believe you, but I'm more surprised you didn't buy dope with it." He seems almost impressed.
"Thought about it, but I know my son was hungry." The worst is over as long as Christian stays hidden, sometimes he doesn't.
"Well, fuck Ella, now I better go track down Randy and get my money back or you're fucked, where's the phone?" I point, but I know the phone isn't going to work and as he discovers that he pulls the cord out of the socket and throws the phone out the window, shattering glass, everywhere. Without another word Terry walks out. His high top boots thumping softly down the hall and leaving.
After a few minutes I pick myself up and head to the bathroom where I shut off the running fawcett, it's nearly overflowed. And look in the cupboards to find Christian hiding very well under the sink behind empty bottles of booze and cleaning fluids. I pull him out and lift him up and sit him on the counter. I wipe away his tears gently, he still flinches, but does the same for me, being careful not to touch my swollen eye. I put him back on the floor and he undresses and sets himself in the tub, pulling the plug to make sure it doesn't overflow. I tear my gaze away in shame that he's always afraid.
I clean up the milk a little, we still luckily have another whole gallon that wasn't thrown across the room. After a while I notice Christian is clean, dressed in clothes I hope are clean and sits on the couch. He doesn't look at me and is closed off and reserved, and I feel it's all my fault. It's all my fault we're here in this place and that he watches me get fucked by strangers, get drunk, get high, get beat by Terry, it's myself he gets beat, neglected and starved.
My face is throbbing, the eye is pretty closed off now and I'm starting to shake from withdrawals. I make Christian one of his favorite meals for lunch, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and macaroni and cheese. He sits quietly in his seat devouring his food while I eat some macaroni and cheese holding a bag of frozen peas to my face, the cold almost burns in a way, but the relief feels great.
After we're done Christian takes our plates and puts them in the sink, he's my handsome little grown up. I slump on the couch, starting to feel very sick and Christian sits above me and starts to play with my hair. He occasionally tugs too hard, but for the most part it helps to calm me down and I slowly drift off to sleep, only waking up a few times to violently vomit on the carpet and in the bathroom. I'm sickened in my heart when Christian comes into the bathroom with a bottle of nearly gone vodka and a small bag of cocaine that I'm sure was in one of the cushions of the couch.
"Don't be sick no more Mommy." I greedily chug the last of the bottle down, ignoring the small burn that goes down from previously being sick. I spread the last of the coke on the dirty counter top and snort it quickly, licking up the residue that I couldn't snort and what was left in the bag.
It's late and I hear a knocking on the door in the living room. Christian lowers his head and goes to shut off the tv and hide in the closet in the bedroom. I open the door and find it's someone I don't know….a john. They never say much, thank god, we usually just get down to business and figuring out what they want and I charge what's warranted.
After the long few hours of dirty sex and drugs I head to the bedroom. I wish there was more, but there would be no use for it, Christian doesn't sleep alone anyways. I lie down and Christian scoots in next to me on the queen size bed that has no sheets but just a dirty thin mattress. I really should do some kind of laundry, it's all just blended together anymore that I don't know what's clean and what isn't.
I close my eyes and Christian wraps himself around me, I try my best not to cuddle him back as he doesn't like it, I have Terry to thank for him hating being touched. Christian falls asleep in a restless sort of way. He cries every once in a while but holds me closer to him and falls back to sleep.
I close my eyes, tears falling from them, no different from most nights, and I am ashamed of how horrible of a mother I am….I love my son, but I cannot keep this up much longer.
The next morning Christian is wrapped around me like a vine, he's sucking his thumb and he looks absolutely peaceful the thought makes me smile. I slowly get up from the bed, careful to not wake him and take a shower, washing away the evidence of last nights work and blood. The water is hot; one of the good things about this shitty place is it's got a damn good water heater. I breathe in and out slowly, taking a moment to collect my thoughts over what to do with our future. My reverie is ending as the bathroom door slowly creaks open with Christian walking in slowly and trying to tip toe to go to the bathroom. I smile and let him do his business while I shower.
After he's finished, he shuts the lid on the toilet and sits waiting for me to finish, he must be wanting a bath. I inhale and start to sing for him, I peek around the curtain and see him swinging his legs to the song. He starts to join in and we happily sing ABC's and Itsy-Bitsy Spider together.
After I'm done he hands me a towel without opening the curtain. I smile at my self-sufficient little man, he's very smart. After I get out, we both get dressed in comfortable and clean jeans and tshirts. I let him comb and braid my hair, one of his favorite things to do, and we head out of the apartment to down the road where the intercity park is. It's not the best of parks, but it's close and I don't have to pay the bus to take us.
As we walk Christian holds my hand tightly, standing as close as he can to me and looking in all directions as if we were being followed. Once we arrive at the park and meet up with my hispanic friend Tina and her two children Robert and Maria, Christian is still holding my hand. Robert and Maria are close in age to Christian. Robert is about 2 years older and Maria is about a year younger. Tina glances briefly as her kids wander to the swings making sure that they don't go too far. She glances quizzically at Christian, but I just smile and shrug. I can't help but feel he's trying to make sure I don't wander off too far.
"Did Terry get to you again?" She frowns and we sit on a bench together. She blinks her pretty brown eyes a few times at me as if hoping the image goes away.
"Yeah, he thought I stiffed him on money, when it was Randy that did it." I glance down at the ground for a moment and watch a bug as it crawls on the ground.
"He's an asshole, you shouldn't have to deal with that shit no more." She takes a pack of Camel cigarettes out of her back pocket and offers me one. I usually don't like Camel, but after yesterday I'll take it.
"Yeah, but, I wouldn't have anywhere to go." She stares at me as if I have a third head poking out of my neck.
"Ella, I told you, Juan and I would be happy to help you and Christian out. Get you out of that shit hole and away from Terry, you're too good for the shit you're doing." I keep from letting tears slip as she says this.
"I can't, Terry would find us anyways," I see the fear in her eyes as she partially realizes the truth in that, then try to bring it back on myself, "Besides, I don't want to end up making you a part of my drug habit."
Tina rolls her eyes and me and I'm suddenly annoyed, I hate that. "You need to kick that shit, I did it and so can you. You just can't keep hurting yourself or your son like that." She's always so honest with me, one of the things I love about her.
Tina and I met when I was a waitress at a diner, she occasionally came in for a cheap and crappy cup of coffee then eventually got a job thanks to Jim, the owner, he seemed like he had a soft spot for girls having a hard time. She at one point was turning trix for Terry too, but found Juan, a cute hispanic boy that worked construction around the city, he helped get her into rehab and got her clean. Eventually they got married and had 2 kids. Happily ever after. Why she still hangs out with me is unclear to me, but hell, I'm in short supply of actual friends. Soon I notice Christian's hold has some slack in it and I pull my hand slowly out of his and give him a reassuring look that everything will be okay while he plays; he's still unsure while he saunters off towards Robert and Maria who are now taking turns on the slide.
"Why's he so clingy to you? He's never like that." I sigh.
"I think he's trying to protect me, instead of getting into it and trying to protect me like he usually does he hid in the bathroom last night. I was glad though because then Terry didn't stay too long and didn't get a chance to hurt him."
Tina looks down, she knows how I feel about police and doesn't press the matter of taking him to file a report on Terry for abuse, besides, who would believe the little whore anyways? I've had enough charges on me for prostitution and drug possession, I don't need to lose my kid too. Of course, like all the other charges it might get dropped with a little bit of a sweet touch. We both stare off at the kids in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say to each other.
"Ella, if you need, I know the number for a shelter that can help if you get into trouble. They'll help you get clean and help you take care of Christian." I glare at her. This isn't what I wanted to talk about. I look down at the cigarette I've neglected to light and take the lighter from her and take a long drag. Fuck, these are gross.
"I don't need a fucking stupid shelter,Tina, I just need Terry to get off my back and stop taking all the money from me."
Tina stops talking, and looks down with a look I can't quite place, I think I offended her.
"Well, when you decide to get some help, let me know, until then I can't help you." I don't want to lose my friend, and I sigh.
"I didn't mean to make you mad, I'll be okay, Christian will be okay, we're just in a tough spot right now." I give her a half hearted smile, I know it doesn't reach my eyes, she knows too but doesn't let on that she knows.
Tina stands up, flicking the ash from her cigarette onto the ground and throwing what's left of her butt on the ground, stomping on it to make sure it's out. She calls to her kids and they rush over, saddened that they have to go. Christian walks over, looking around him as he does then grabs my hand and with a brave smile he looks up at me.
"Let's go home Mommy, I want to watch cartoons and play with my cars." His beautiful gray eyes sparkle at me in excitement about his new toy car. I smile back at him in response and take his hand and together we walk home.
As soon as we get home Christian skips over to the television and turns it on, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood is on and he sits down in front of the couch on the floor. I sit behind him, my legs on either side of him, essentially holding him in place, I lean forward and skim my fingers through his hair. I smile slightly as he leans into my hands and giggles when I tickle behind his ears. I kiss the top of his head and sit back.
After a while my stomach growls and Christian tenses up as if Terry just walked in the house, instead of running into a different room he walks into the kitchen and gets a plate out of the cupboard and takes the leftover mac 'n cheese out of the fridge, I watch him in confusion.
"What are you doing, Christian?" He smiles at me.
"I'm taking care of you Mommy." This breaks my heart and I frown, I'm supposed to take care of him.
"Why don't you eat it and I'll make something else?" He looks at me confused and shocked as if I stepped on his foot, tears seem to well up in his eyes.
"But I want you to eat it, I'll eat later, I want to take care of you." I walk over and kneel down in front of him.
"I'm okay, but I want you to eat it because I want something else." It does look good. He hands me the plate without fighting, hanging his head slightly.
I reheat the noodles and place the plate in front of him with a small cup filled with milk. Looking around I do notice we have food, but I want to make sure he has enough, he never does. He hasn't touched his food yet...I grab a piece of bread and spread some peanut butter on it to make a half sandwich. It's dry in my mouth and sticks, making me wish there was a lot more milk to down, but instead I get a cup from the cupboard and fill it with tap water, it tastes awful and doesn't smell very clean either, but the bread is starting to stick to my throat and I down half the glass in one gulp.
Later that night I tuck Christian into my bed, really our bed, and tell him that I'll be in soon, hoping he doesn't hide and wait for me like he always does. He nods his head and hugs the blankets tight to his chest, his breathing starts to get shorter and more rapid, it hurts my heart. "I promise, I'll be in soon." He relaxes a little.
As if on cue a few knocks ping from the front door and I kiss Christian on the forehead goodnight, and shut the door behind me. I open up the front door to find a man named Charles, he seems nice and I find out he's got some crack cocaine and vodka and a good $200, good enough for the whole night. We don't talk much, I take a few swigs from the bottle of vodka and push him onto the couch. He's got blue eyes, sunken in from years of drug and alcohol abuse, sandy blonde hair and a relatively young face that is ridden with pick marks and a general look of sadness.
I stand in front of him, holding the bottle of vodka in my hand. After taking the bottle and setting it down Charles grabs my behind and pulls me in, he unbuttons my pants with rushing, fumbling hands and pulls them down to the floor, my cotton panties he practically rips off with his rushed hands and I nearly lose my balance but catch myself against the wall. He starts to trail his hands up and down my legs, but stops for a moment to stand up and take off his own pants; once again fumbling with his own buttons. I push him back down on the couch and begins to undo his belt, button and zipper with easy, quick movements. Easily he lifts his bottom and I'm able to slide off his pants and boxers. He looks like he's been injecting needles into his legs, he's beyond me, I only smoke it, I haven't yet gotten to using needles.
I pull him close to me and grab his erection in my hands and begin to stroke up and down with swift movements; he throws his head back against the couch moaning deep in his throat, eventually I pull him into my mouth and use the same movements that my hands were doing moments ago.
"Oh Ella, suck it, harder." I listen and begin to suck and do it hard, making him squirm beneath me.
Eventually I pull away before he gets ready to cum and I pull out a condom from a drawer next to the couch and place it over his member. Without breaking a beat I lick my hand applying some lubricant to myself before I climb on top of him. We both groan and moan as I slowly begin to ride him, slowly at first, up and down, then much faster, swirling my hips around him and over him. He begins to tense up his body, straightening his legs, I know it's only seconds until he cums. I start to make loud noises as if I'm cumming with him, but I don't, I rarely ever genuinely do.
"Damn, that was great." He breathes while I climb off of him and pick my clothes up from off the floor.
After Charles and I are once again clothed, I take a large swig of vodka, ignoring the burn as it goes down my throat. I notice that Charles is starting to prepare the drugs for us to do, and I'm disappointed that he didn't want to leave instead but I'll indulge him until my other appointment arrives. After a few hours of smoking and drinking I'm good and sick of him being in my apartment. So I'm glad when a regular, Marco stops by; Charles quickly hands me the money and makes his way out of my apartment, forgetting the bottle of vodka and some of the drugs behind. I give Marco a quick blow job and he's soon on his way.
I'm tired, drunk, and extremely high. I forget all about my promise to go to bed with Christian and fall asleep on the floor next to the couch.
After several hours I'm awoken to a high pitch scream and crying and some loud fumbling going on. I sit up quickly, feeling a head rush from the vodka but push it away as I think it's just Christian just having a nightmare, until the fumbling sounds don't seem to stop, that's when I notice the front door is wide open and some of the drugs are gone. CHRISTIAN!
I run into the bedroom as best as I can and flip on the light, I'm shocked and start throwing whatever I can get my hand on at the person standing over my bed, holding my son down, his pajama pants pulled down slightly and this man penetrating my son. I finally put my hand on a bat that I keep near the bed and swing as hard as I can until I hear a slight crack as the bat makes contact with his jaw. I raise the bat again and Christian is screaming and crying, clinging to the bed as best as he can. I get a better look at this person in my room violating my son and hit him again as I see the saddened, deep blue eyes of Charles.
"Get the fuck out of my house you sick fucking bastard, before I fucking kill you!" Charles, holding onto his jaw tries to collect himself and runs out of the apartment before I can hit him again.
I'm screaming and crying as hard as I can. I reach for Christian and he looks at me with utter shock and despair on his face, pushing further away from me. I drop the bat on the floor with a loud bang and cry on the bed, my poor son. My poor boy, my Christian. I cannot protect you. The thought destroys me. While I know he wasn't fully penetrated by Charles, the damage had been done and cannot be reversed.
"I'm okay Mommy, I'm here for you, safe." He strokes my hair and lays down beside me, we cry together, both completely broken.
The next morning I wake up on the bed, a horrible pounding in my head, I sit up running a hand through my matted hair and look around. Christian isn't in bed with me, and the thought scares me, where could he be? I get up and look in the closet, not there; I look in the living room and he's not there either, I start to freak out screaming his name as best as I can with a hoarse voice. Eventually I turn to see him poking his head out of the cupboard under the sink in the kitchen. How long have you been in there? I wonder inside but don't ask. He looks like he's been crying all night long.
He crawls out and comes up to me, but won't look me in the eyes. I bend down to meet him at his level and attempt to touch his hair, he pulls away. My heart cries out, he acts like this when Terry hurts him, like it's his fault when it's all my fault. I look away, ashamed that I couldn't protect him, guilty that he knows that I couldn't. I sit down on the couch, feeling it sink beneath my weight, without thinking I grab the bottle of vodka and take as big of a swig as my stomach will allow. I haven't eaten hardly anything in days and the vodka hurts my stomach but the pounding in my head feels a little better.
I notice Christian is sitting in front of the turned off television, his head hanging. I get up and turn it on for him, putting it on cartoons. He relaxes for a moment, but still remains stiff in his back. I silently cry into my arm watching him. I feel like shit for what has happened, and I hope it hasn't happened before. My heart sinks when I realize that when high and drunk I can't account for the men that are in my house when I'm passed out...Christian might have been touched while I'm passed out and unable to hear him. I shudder at the thought and take another deep swig of vodka.
I'm shaken and shocked when the door is kicked open and I'm not surprised when I see Terry staring at me. His beard and mustache seem dirty, he's been snorting a lot of coke and he's going to fly off the handle. I look over to Christian whose standing against the tv staring in horror at Terry.
"You broke Charles' jaw you stupid fucking bitch!" He comes over and slaps me, striking me in the same place as he had the other day, my head rings in protest, but the vodka helps to numb it slightly.
"Well, he came back after I was done fucking him and I found him trying to fuck my son!" I scream at him in retort, Christian stands stock still, almost willing to disappear into the floor.
"Well, for what he fucking paid you in drugs alcohol and money you should have let him do whatever he wanted. Now I'm on the hook for his fucking bills! Which means you are!" I look at the floor where the money and the remainder of the drugs lie.
"So take the shit, you never leave us with anything to live off of, so when we die from starvation who will be your cash cow then, huh Terry?" I instantly regret it when his fist comes in contact with the side of my mouth making it hurt, I think I bit my tongue and I can feel blood filling my mouth.
Christian starts to cry, holding his arms around himself, unsure of what to do. His emotions are starting to betray him, he's terrified but can't seem to find his strength to run, he wants to protect me, but knows he'll get it worse. I'm shocked when I see Terry start to unbutton his pants, how dare he think to do this now in front of my son? Run, Christian, turn away, don't watch this, please! I try to will Christian to leave and close his eyes with my mind, but it doesn't seem to work, he stares in horror.
"Since I'm on the hook, you're on the hook, and you'll repay me in anyway I see fit. And right now seems fit." I try to push him away yelling no, screaming, but he punches me again in the face and I stop protesting.
I'm shocked and tears spring to my face when he rips my underwear off, and I'm briefly away that I wasn't wearing any pants to begin with and he holds me down and pushes himself into me forcefully. I silently scream, wishing Christian didn't have to see this. Terry is grunting with each push of his hips, he starts to sweat and I am repulsed at the smell of old liquor, stale cigarettes, and body odor. I stop fighting and let him finish in me. Before I can collect my thoughts I notice Terry is struggling to get up and I hear soft sobs escaping from the left side of me. I look up in terror as Christian is trying to punch and kick Terry with all that he can muster, he's crying softly and it almost seems in slow motion as I watch a tear slide off his beautiful little cheek onto his hand.
Terry quickly sits up and buttons his pants back on; without missing a beat he throws a quick punch at Christian and lands his hit squarely on Christian's cheek throwing him back onto the ground. I sit up, my head ringing and the room spinning. I hear Christian screaming and look in time to see Terry holding Christian off the floor by his hair and throws him into the kitchen when he lands with a thud but seems to pick himself up. He's quick, but not quick enough to run past Terry who grabs him and throws him on the ground putting his boot on top of Christian holding him to the ground.
I can't seem to find my voice as I watch Terry pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights the tip of the cigarette and takes a long drag on it watching the end get bright red. Christian is screaming in protest with his face buried in the green carpet, trying to grasp at anything to help him get away. I close my eyes and my heart breaks to hear the screaming that comes from the subsequent burn inflicted on Christian by Terry. It burns right through his yellow Big Bird shirt into the soft flesh on his back. There are many others that accompany it, some in varying degrees of healing.
Terry looks at me pissed, as if it was my fault that he had to burn Christian.
"You and your little shit are nothing but fucking trouble for me." He leaves $20 out of the $200 from the night before and leaves.
Christian just lays on the floor, silent sobs escaping him. His eyes are open and filled with tears, and spilling into the carpet. He doesn't look at me, and I can't look at him, ashamed that once again I can't protect him.
Next Chapter: Things get worse for Ella and Christian. They find they're getting close to eviction as Terry stopped paying rent and Ella has to sell herself to the landlord to keep a roof over their heads. Ella finds out a horrible fact that Christian has been sexually abused by more men than Charles. Can Ella find the strength to protect Christian and save themselves?