Chapter 2

Screaming – such a horrible, high-pitched sound it hurts my ears, and yet, I know that voice.

Mother? Is that my Mother?

No, no. Mommy's voice is always soft and kind and sweet. Like chocolate cake or warm bread. Mommy's voice doesn't hurt.

Karolina clutches me to her chest with one arm, the other one wrapped around Sonya.

Someone else is screaming now – this new voice, I have never heard it before. I don't want to hear it again. It's ugly. It's deep and rough.

It makes Karolina cover Sonya's ears.

There's something wet on my face. I touch my face with a finger and bring it to my lips uncertainly. Salt means tears. Mommy said so. But are they coming from my sisters or from me?

A man bursts into the room like one of those angry characters in the cartoons that Karo watches every Saturday. Mommy taught me the names of the days. Is that Mommy? That woman with the red face, the red arms and legs?

It doesn't look like Mommy, but it is. Mommy's crying – she's sad. Did she fall down? I squirm in my eldest sister's grip, trying to get to my Mother so I can give her a hug and kiss her boo-boo. She always kisses mine. She says it helps when someone gets hurt.

The big man screams – his voice is getting louder and louder. He stinks. Mommy is crying even harder, clutching at his leg, asking for something… what? I cannot understand what she says. Maybe it was her throat that got hurt.

Karo's arms tighten around me and she places Sonya between herself and the wall. And suddenly I understand that the man is bad, and he wants to hurt Karo.

I break free of her arms and, in a show of strength, start beating my fists as hard as I can against him.

I fly against the wall in the other side of the room. I didn't know I could fly, but I don't like it. It hurts. I don't understand. Why does my head hurt so much? Why can't I move?

The big man is kicking Karo and Sonya now. Mommy tries to stand up – but she can't. He drags her back to her room by the hair.

I am angry, now. I have to help my mother. I have to help my sisters. But I can't move.

At the age of two years old, I learn my most valuable lesson: I must always keep my girls away from that big, bad man called 'Daddy'.

Sonya IS older than Dimka, guys - I googled it. Lol.

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