This has been floating around in my head for a while, and with the help of my abnormal psychology class, the book "A Child Called "it"," and the lifetime movie For the Love Of A Child, I feel I can finally do some justice to it. WARNING: this does deal with the touchy subject of child abuse and may be disturbing to some readers. If you feel this way, then don't read it.
Summary: We've all read the "House's daughter" stories, but what if he had a daughter that didn't show up looking for him? What if he found her instead? What if this was before the Minions, the infraction, the coldness? How would it have changed him? Not much apparently…
Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of the characters from the show. I do however own all original characters.
Prolog
My Name Is"It"
She sat, holding her rabbit as close as she could. The screaming had started again. That's how it always started; the cursing, yelling, screaming, then the slapping. The sound of skin on skin contact, like a firecracker being set off. It resounded throughout the house, reverting off the walls and rattling the bones of the small girl who huddled in the closet. Then, the one thing she feared most in the world… him.
"Where are you, you little bastard!" He would yell at the top of his lungs. She would jump, pushing herself further into the closet, hoping to just completely disappear. "You know you've done wrong! Now come out here and take your punishment."
"Just come out, or I won't be able to protect you!" Her mother would yell, trying to get her to come out. Protect? She always stood by and let it happen! How could she protect the girl when she couldn't even protect herself?
"Get out here now!" He would scream. "Do not disobey me!"
"Just listen to him!" Her mother would yell.
The girl would push herself back further that humanly possible. But no matter what happened, he would find her, and then she would get her punishment, and no one would care…
But tonight was different. She looked down at the flyer she had in her hand, then the phone in the other. Carefully, she dialed the number listed on the back… 1-800-4-ACHILD.
She waited, listening to the yells of her parents and the sound of the ring tone mixing together like a theme to a horror movie, then…
"Hello, 'For a Child', how can I help you?" A kind voice said at the other end. The girl's heart started beating a thousand beats a minute. "Hello?" the lady asked again.
"H-hello?" The girl replied, hesitantly. She heard the lady say something to someone else, and then come back to the phone.
"Hello dear, are you in any trouble?" The lady asked, sounding nice but demanding at the same time. The girl didn't answer. "Hello? Honey? Are you there?" No answer. "Are you in trouble?" No answer. "Can you tell me your name?"
"I-I, I don't h-have one." She stuttered in a whisper.
"What do your parents call you?" The lady asked, concerned.
"It." She whispered as the yells got closer. He was in the hall now, searching the rooms for her.
"What's that sound, Honey?" The woman said as she heard yelling. "Are you in trouble? Do you need help?"
"Y-yes." The girl said, starting to cry.
"Can you tell me your address?" The lady asked. The girl didn't answer, the yelling was getting closer. "Sweetie, where do you live?" The lady asked again. "Can you tell me where you are?"
"Tell me where you are!" He yelled as he entered the room the girl was in. She slid back as far as she possibly could, hiding behind a rack of clothing.
"Honey! Who is that! Are they trying to hurt you?" The lady cried desperately. "Where are you?"
"In the c-closet." The girl whispered as the closet door was ripped open. She thought she had hidden herself, but her shoes were sticking out from underneath the clothes. He grabbed her feet and ripped her out of the closet.
"NOO!" she screamed. "NO! Please, don't! I'll be good! I promise! Please! Not again!"
"Honey?" The lady was yelling over the phone now, listening to the girl's screams.
Then the line went dead.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
"Did she hold on long enough to get a trace?" The lady asked the detective.
"Yes," He answered. "She held on just long enough. Good girl"
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
"She's always making prank calls." He said with a laugh.
"Even so, sir, we still would like to talk to her." The young officer said, barely containing his disgust.
"She's… out with her friends." The girl's mother said as she held onto her husband's arm.
"At ten thirty at night?" The older officer asked skeptically. The woman looked at him like a dear caught in the headlights of her beamer.
"We're going to need to look around." The young officer said as he motioned for the couple to move aside. They did so, reluctantly, allowing the two officers to enter their home.
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
"By, God!" The older officer exclaimed as he enter one of the bedrooms on the second floor.
"We need the paramedics in here." The young officer relayed over the radio to the awaiting EMTs in front of the house.
There on the small white wooden bed, lay the small girl, unconscious with her hands tide to the bedposts.
So that's the beginning. I tried not to be too graphic because sometimes it can be more suspenseful that way. And, I don't think the abuse of a child should be described in too much detail.
If you are being abused, or know of anyone who is, please, don't let it go on. Call your local police station, hospital, 911, or 1-800-4-ACHILD.
This is some very heavy stuff here, but it will get lighter as the story goes on, I promise. Please r&r.
Amanda