Chapter 5

Mark was slowly making his way through the house. He was taking his sweet time. He was in a very bad mood. Kaia disobeyed him. Kaia ran through the house and knocked over a lamp causing it to break. Afterwards, Kaia ran through the house away from him because she knew what was coming next. She knew that her father would hurt her.

'Kaia. Oh Kaia. Where are you?"

"Mark," Michelle pleaded from behind with tears in her eyes. "Please. She didn't mean to break the lamp. It can be replaced. I could go out and buy a new one. Please leave her alone."

"Shut up, woman," he snarled turning towards Michelle.

Mark turned to walk down the upstairs hallway only to be spun around and slapped hard across the face. Michelle gasped at her impulse to strike her husband. Mark panted as his eyes met Michelle.

"I'm so, Mark. I'm so sorry."

Mark's right hand wrapped around Michelle's throat. Michelle cried out as her back was slammed against the wall.

"Did you just put your hands on me? DID YOU JUST PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME?!"

Michelle gasped. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Mark released his grip on Michelle. She crumbled to the floor at his feet coughing, sobbing quietly as Mark removed the belt from his jeans. He wrapped the leather around his right hand. He lowered himself towards Michelle.

"Don't even think about moving from that spot. Your turn comes next. Understand?"

"Yes," Michelle whispered.

Mark grabbed a handful of Michelle's hair and yanked her head upwards so their eyes met. "What?" he snarled.

"Yes," Michelle said louder.

Mark released her hair, then stood to his feet. He knew where Kaia would be hiding. It was so obvious. Mark continued his slow walk down the hallway till he reached Kaia's room. His right hand banged on her bedroom door.

"Kaia, get out here! Right now!"

He heard shuffling in the bedroom, then a door close. Aha. The closet.

"If you won't come to me" he said to himself. "Then, I'll make you come to me."

Mark kicked in the door to Kaia's bedroom. The room was dark. He flipped on the light. His eyes turned towards the closet. He made a beeline for the closet door. He put an ear to the door and listened.

Sobbing. Praying.

"You can cry and pray all you want but it's no use."

Mark turned the knob to the closet door and pulled it open. He reached up and pulled the chain for the light to come on. Kaia sat curled up on the floor at Mark's feet. Kaia looked up, fear etched on her face.

"Please, daddy. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please. Please don't hurt me."

"Sorry won't help you this time."

Mark leaned down and grabbed his daughter by the arms and pulled her to her feet.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Mark screamed as he sat up in bed.

Mark panted as Michelle flipped on the bedside lamp.

"Mark. Mark what's wrong?"

Michelle sat up beside him. "Mark? Honey?"

"Oh, Michelle. It was bad. It was so bad."

"What happened? Tell me."

"I can't," Mark said. "I can't tell you. I just can't…"

Mark couldn't finish his sentence as tears began to fill his eyes.

"Oh, honey."

Michelle pulled Mark's head close to her chest and just held him as he wept. She was trying her best to soothe him shushing him in a gentle tone.

"It was only a dream, baby. Only a dream."

"It felt so real."

"It wasn't real. It wasn't real."

"Worst night of sleep in years."

"Shh. Shh. Just relax. I'm here, Mark. I'm here."

"I'll never hurt you or Kaia," Mark sobbed. "Never."

-Later that morning found Mark in the home gym working on the punching bag. Rights. Lefts. Multiple punches and kicks to the bag. He was working up a sweat. One more final right and he was spent. His arms crossed on the bag. He panted as he leaned forward resting his forehead on his arms. He closed his eyes trying to relax his breathing. He knew what he had to do. He had to call the police that day. He had to help Alyssa.

"Daddy?"

Mark turned his eyes to the right to see Kaia standing in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Mom wanted me to ask you if you wanted French toast for breakfast."

"Yeah. Sure. Sounds good."

"Okay."

Kaia turned to leave.

"Hey, honey, hold on a second."

Kaia faced her father again. "Yes, daddy?"

"Could you come over and sit on the bench for a moment, please?"

Kaia walked towards the bench as Mark removed the fingerless marital arts gloves from his hands, then dropped them to the floor. He straddled the bench and faced his daughter.

"Baby girl, you know I love you right?"

"Yep," Kaia replied with a nod of her head.

"Okay. Now I want to explain something to you. You know those times I get upset when you disobey me?"

"What does disobey mean?"

"It means you did something I told you not to do. You did something wrong."

"Oh."

"Now, you know I get mad when I tell you not to do something, yet you do it anyway. I might have you sit in time out or send you up to your room to think about what you had done, remember? "

"Uh-huh. I'm sorry, daddy. I'll try to do better."

"No, no, Kaia. That's not what I'm saying. I mean, I do want you to listen to your mother and I, but that's not what I'm talking about right now."

"Oh."

"What I'm saying is that no matter how many times you disobey us it doesn't mean we're gonna love you any less. We will always love you. I will always love you. Do you know that?"

"Yes, daddy."

A lump formed in Mark's throat. His eyes began to water.

"And you also know that I would never, ever hurt you, right?"

Kaia nodded again.

"I just want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you. Never. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, daddy, I believe you."

"Okay," Mark said sliding the bangs out of Kaia's eyes. "I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too."

"Could I have a hug?"

Kaia leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her father. He just held her tightly rubbing her back. He placed a butterfly kiss on the side of her head before pulling back from her.

"Could you please go let mommy know that I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick and then come eat some breakfast?"

"Okay, daddy."

"Thank you."

Kaia moved off the bench, then went up the stairs towards the kitchen. Mark shook his head back and forth.

"Man, I love that little girl."

Mark rose from the bench, then went to find his cellphone. It was charging by a set of weights and barbells. He picked it up and dialed a number. The call was answered on the second ring.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"I would like to report a case of child abuse."