Chapter Three

Sometimes death seemed like a better option than going home.

Becky swung her feet over the edge of the bench, staring at the ground below her. Sometimes she wondered how she would do it. Would she hike to the top of her favorite hiking spot and jump? Would she run in front of a train on the train tracks, or maybe a moving vehicle?

Sometimes, more often when she knew she was going home to a punishment, she wished she was already dead. And then she would see one of her sisters and realize once more that death was not a viable option for her. Because if she chose death, then who would be there for Charlotte? Charlotte, the one who took care of all of them, but never seemed to have anybody around for her? Except for Becky, who made sure that on nights her sister got it real bad, that she was there in the attic when that door got locked, holding her while she cried, or looking after Sasha and Bayley if she wasn't in the room at all…

Sometimes she thought about escaping. About grabbing Sasha and Bayley, telling Charlotte the plan, and just running. Running away and raising Sasha and Bayley on their own, in a town where they would just show up and nobody would ask any questions. Two 12-year-old girls raising a 7-year-old and a 9-year-old. Not suspicious in the least.

It wasn't as if they weren't already doing that, anyways.

Practically.

But those were just fantasies, and at the end of the day, they weren't there for her. The only thing waiting for her was reality- her father's belt, or strap, whichever he chose to use, the punishment room, the crib….

Becky shuddered at the thought of the crib. Would her actions today warrant time in the crib? She didn't think so. She prayed not, anyways. The crib was the punishment all four girls tried to avoid at all costs. You knew you were in trouble when you got put in the crib... you knew you were in for a world of hurt if you were punished with the crib….

Which was why, to this day, only two of the four girls had ever been forced to suffer through it.

And Bayley was one of them.

That had been the week from hell for all four girls; a week that none of them would soon forget.

The week their parents went so far as to punish their 7-year-old daughter with the worst punishment any of them had ever witnessed or been put through.

Of course, they had modified it a bit for Bayley, mainly because the real crib punishment might have killed the little girl.

That was one of the times when Becky had wanted to die. Or run away. Or do or go anywhere but home.

"Hey Bex, where were you? I've been looking all over for you."

The sound of her sister's voice snapped Becky out of her thoughts. She looked up and shrugged, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Dad's gonna be here any minute. We better get going," stated Charlotte, offering her sister a gentle hug.

"It's gonna be okay, Bex. Whatever happens tonight...you know I'll be there when it's all over and done, okay? Just think about the attic. Think about when it's all over and it's just you and me and Sasha and Bayley for the whole night. Okay?"

Becky nodded, letting out a heavy sigh as she walked towards the parking lot and to her doom.

Bayley watched as her classmates all grabbed their backpacks and began getting ready to go home, all so clearly happy. She sighed as she thought about why she couldn't be happy to go home, and why all of the other kids in her class were. Did they not have to worry about getting hit the way she and her sisters did? Did they not have chores to do? Didn't they have to worry about whether they'd get to eat or be sent to bed without dinner that night like she did?

Apparently not.

Bayley put her head down, her mind wandering to the last time anybody had gotten hit at home; which was every night it seemed like. Last night had been Sasha. Daddy had been angry because her teacher called about something. He made Sasha stop doing her chores and brought her to the punishment room. Bayley had heard her crying and she had heard her dad's belt. She didn't like the sound of the belt.

When he used it on her, he only spanked her on her bottom. But it wasn't like that for Sasha and Becky and Charlotte. They got hurt a lot worse than Bayley did. Sasha didn't get dinner last night, either. Daddy sent her to the attic after he hit her. That's called getting grounded. It happens when the girls do something wrong at school or don't finish their chores. When you're grounded, you don't get dinner. Or, if you don't finish your chores in the morning, you get a spanking and no breakfast.

She wondered who would get hit tonight.

She wondered if it would be her.

The thought made Bayley put her head down on her table, dreading the sound of the bell. When she was at school, she didn't get hit. Or at night, after mommy locked the door of the attic. School and the attic. Those were the only two places that Bayley liked being anymore. She didn't like the rest of the day.

"Bayley, are you okay?"

Bayley looked up at the sound of her teacher's voice and nodded.

"Yes Mr. Alexander," she replied, plastering a smile on her face.

She knew how to trick people to make them think she was happy. Sasha had taught her that trick when she started kindergarten last year.

"Okay, well Sasha should be here in just a minute to pick you up and take you to dad. You have a good night, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Alexander," said Bayley, and as if on cue, Sasha was standing at the doorway waving to her sister.

"Girls, go get started on your chores."

Hunter's voice left no room for argument as they walked through the door, all four girls heading in that direction without a second's hesitation.

"Becky, upstairs, now."

Becky stopped dead in her tracks, the lowness in her father's voice nearly paralyzing her.

"What part of now did you not understand?" he growled, grabbing her by the ear and twisting it around in his fingers. Becky nodded, swiftly moving her feet towards the stairs.

"Yes, sir."

Becky dragged her feet up the stairs, to the left, and down the hall, stopping in front of the large double oak doors. She knew what was coming.

She hesitantly pushed the doors open, stepping inside the spacious room. Dread and anxiety immediately filled her stomach as the doors closed shut behind her. The room was empty, mostly. Along the walls were various belts and straps. There was a desk and chair in a corner where the girls were sometimes punished with writing lines about something they've done wrong. There was a bathroom attached to the room where their parents kept bars of soap for when they earned getting their mouth washed out, and a little mini fridge and table lined with empty bottles. The fridge held the concoction known only to the girls as "the stomach destroyer." It was a rare punishment, saved for special occasions, Becky supposed. Slightly below the crib in terms of where punishments ranked in severity. Whatever the concoction was that their mom or dad put into the bottles and made the girls drink, sometimes humiliating the girls even further by holding the bottle for them, led to severe stomach pain for days. It was also, usually accompanied by the use of a diaper. To add to the humiliation effect of the punishment, or so Becky guessed.

The punishment had been used several times in the past on Becky and Sasha; the troublemakers of the group.

Becky wondered if that would be her form of torture tonight as well.

"So, let's talk about today, Becky."

Becky jumped at the sound of her mother's voice, snapping out of her thoughts and focusing on her mom and dad. It was never a good sign when they both came into the room.

"I'm sorry," whispered Becky, knowing that sorry was an excuse they never accepted. She didn't know why she was bothering with an apology at all.

"Getting in fights, calling some poor girl an Ogre? Do you realize how this looks, Rebeccah? Do you realize what it would look like to our anti-bullying campaign within the company if words get out that our own daughter is a bully? Honestly, Becky, do you ever even think before you do something?"

Becky kept her head lowered as her mother scolded her for her actions, knowing the physical part would come after the verbal part. This wasn't her first time in the punishment room.

"As if talking to any of these little brats ever gets the message through their thick head. You want to humiliate the other girls in your school? You want to be all tough and superior? You're about to learn just how low on the totem pole you really are…." quipped Hunter, shoving Becky to the ground.

"Take your clothes off. I'll be damned if you get to keep any of your privileges after what you did at school today!"

Becky whimpered at the thought of losing all of her privileges, tears streaming down her face as she obeyed her father and removed her clothes. Her father wanted to humiliate her, and the moment she removed her underwear, she knew that he had succeeded.

Becky continued to cry as her father grabbed her by the hair, sitting himself down on the chair in the room before hauling her over his knee. The feel of a thick leather strap striking her bare bottom sent her into a screaming fit, each lash feeling like it was burning through her skin, her father only stopping when her buttocks was beaten completely raw.

She sobbed again when the same strap was struck across her back, her father striking every inch of her that was exposed to him.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry!" she wailed, crying out as his final blow struck her square in the middle of her back.

"You ever gonna fight someone again?!" demanded her father, Becky shaking her head as the pain throughout her entire backside screamed in agonizing pain.

"No, sir. I promise!" she whimpered.

"Good. Now that the fighting punishment is over, you can be punished for humiliating another classmate," said Hunter, pulling Becky to her feet, the young girl collapsing to her knees as soon as he let go of her.

"No, please. Please, I'm sorry," whispered Becky, groaning when her mother forced her onto her back; the hardwood floor being completely unforgiving to her beaten backside.

Becky whimpered again as her mother forced a diaper between her legs, spreading her legs as far apart as they would go. Becky could feel the embarrassment coursing through her as the diaper was strapped into place, her mother sealing it with tape to ensure that it did not come off.

And Becky knew what was coming next.

She moaned in agony that hadn't even come her way yet as she saw her father hard at work making the bottles, harsh sobs escaping Becky's lips as she thought about the torture she was about to endure, the pain it would ultimately lead to.

And just like that, bottle after bottle, after bottle was forced into her mouth, Hunter holding Becky up while her mother forced her to drink each and every one she made; six in total. Tears ran unmarked down her face, sobs escaping her lips as she choked down the milk based mixture, her stomach screaming in agony after only the first one. Becky moaned as her mother continued to subject her to the punishment bottle by bottle until each one was left empty.

"There. Maybe next time you'll learn that bullies never win in the end, and that no child of mine will ever get away with humiliating another human being the way you humiliated your classmate today, Rebeccah. Do you understand?"

Becky nodded, unable to form any words as her stomach continued to kill her from the inside out.

"Good. Take her to her room, Hunter. I don't even want to look at her until tomorrow," said Stephanie, Becky moaning in pain on the ground.

"Oh, and you can forget about school for a few days. We've invoked our own suspension until we know you've learned your lesson. For the next week you are home and only home, with all of your privileges gone. No food. No clothes. No bathroom. You can sleep on your mattress and that is it. No blankets or pillows. You can earn them back one by one by earning our trust again. Do you understand?"

Becky nodded miserably, whimpering as her father dragged her up by the arm, her body too limp to protest as he dragged her out the door and up another flight of stairs to her bedroom.