I’m cold. I’m tired. I’m hungry.

I step upstairs, taking a step once every minute, tiptoeing oh so carefully through the decrepit door. I looked around the dark kitchen as I listened for any sign of life; nothing. Knowing well that one creak or groan from the floorboards could mean severe punishment for me, I used all my strengths and smarts to not wake anyone. My stomach growled, demanding nourishment, and I whimpered from the harsh, empty feeling. As carefully as I could, I crawled up the stairs and took a left at the top, entering the white kitchen. It was so dark that I could barely make out the kitchen table, where Kyrian and I used to do our play-doh projects. I desperately prayed that I made no noise, searching around for a minute, before I climbed the little gray step stool onto the spotless counter. I teetered for a moment, before getting a grip on the cupboard door. ‘All I need is one cookie- no, no, even half will be okay i’m just so hungry pleas-’

Before I can react, I felt a hand wrap itself around my throat like a python, squeezing what little energy I had from me. As my vision faded, I heard a faint whisper in my ear;

“You broke the Rules.”

I stopped myself from screaming as I awoke to what I thought was early morning, staring into the back of my eldest brother. I jabbed him once, and when he didn’t stir, I considered it safe enough to breath. Sharing a twin sized bed with three people was probably the worst torture of all, because you feel so cramped trapped
Everything was so dark, that I could barely see my hand in front of my face. I was in the basement of my house, lying on my mattress. I felt hot tears run down my cheeks, salting my lips. I cried almost everyday at this point, either from a nightmare while I was sleep, or a nightmare when I was awake.  I feel a cold chill run over my body as I heard footsteps upstairs, and I hid under my comforter, that was ridden with holes. I count, one, two three, fou-
They stop. I release my breath.

If that basement door opens, We will have to report for the day, and begin our chores. He calls me “adequately trained for my age.” He doesn’t like it when I say I’ve been hit. Or starved. Or left alone for at least two days to fend for myself and my siblings while he takes Momma out. It is training for when I have a family, He says.
I roll onto my side, peering into the darkness. I imagine the faces of monsters, coming for me with their sharp, jagged teeth and bloody talons. Somehow, I was not afraid.

The basement door opens, “Come.”
I shake the little ones awake before we rush up the stairs, our bodies cool to the touch through our holey, stained clothes from the day before. Three pairs of feet Thundering  up the huge wooden staircase that led to the beautiful, sparkling white kitchen.The gallant mansion being flooded with sunlight through it’s windows. The house was so big, I got vertigo from staring at the white ceiling,but that wouldn’t stop me from staring at the intricate crystalline chandelier that hung above our heads. Sometimes, I wish that I was made of glass, to be as pretty as a sculpture and to be marveled at
“Ow!” The tears came as soon as His hand made contact with the back of my head, shaking up my brain a little. I kept my head down, out of fear respect, and to hide my tears. I could feel His stare on the top of my head, and I could smell the overpowering musk of alcohol curling from his lips. Two smaller figures stand beside me, but are quickly dismissed to the living room with the wave of his hand.

He and Her stand before me in the kitchen, but She quickly takes a seat at the dining room table.  He cleared his throat authoritatively.

“Are you tired?” He demands, , his voice hoarse  from years of abusing cigarettes. This was a Test, and I have learned the penalty for failing them.

“No, sir.”
If I were to say yes, I would be punished. I began to shake, my head hung low, waiting for the monster to bare his teeth
She looks me over, Her eyes softer than His, “are you hungry?”
“Yes, please ma’am!”
She hands me a slice of bread, which I practically inhale.I look at her pleadingly, my stomach snarling at them from within me. Please Momma, I’m so hungry... He stares at me as if i’m a rabid dog that they found dying, and just had to take care of. Love was never a factor in our relationship, and looking back on it, I don’t think he could even feel love; monsters don’t feel, all they feel is hunger and anger.
“Go take a shower, you smell.” He ordered.
I shuffled off upstairs, listening to them talk about me; How I was a bad influence on the younger ones with my ‘rebellious attitude.’ I wanted to rush back down there and say hey, asshole! You’re the one causing all of this by hurting us! But I learned that staying quiet, means that I didn't get hurt. I sigh as I enter the upstairs bathroom, and strip out of my old hand-me-downs. I stare at my body in the full length mirror; fading blonde hair cascades over bony shoulders, framing a face with empty eyes and hollow cheeks. My chest was flat, my collarbones winking at me under my flesh.  I could even see my ribs. My hips looked as sharp as glass. Yellow, fading bruises on my arms, legs, and back were covered with fresh blue and purple ones, and my hands were scrubbed raw; for I had to clean the basement every day and every night.

After my quick, cold shower, I scurried to the living room with the rest of my siblings. Sitting in front of the television was our only free time when He was home, minus going to school. He would put on such a nice face for his guests, his clients, and then come home to rip the mask off, where we get to deal with the monsters and devils that lie inside him. We all shared the same fate, the same wrath from Him. Sir. Not a father, caretaker.
My baby brother, Adrian, scooted his little bowl of cheerios towards me. I smiled and took three, popping the dry, yet sweet cereal into my parched mouth as he flashed me a two-tooth smile. I remember with Daddy, Momma would be happily making breakfast for me and Kyrian, while microwaving a bottle for little baby Mariah. Adrian was still in Momma’s tummy, and I remember putting my hands on her to feel his little kicks. We would eat breakfast as a family, where we were happy, and we were safe.

All of that was gone now; no more safety, no more happiness, and no more Daddy.
Momma told us that Daddy gave his life for us, but I didn’t really know what that meant until I was older; My father worked in the world trade centers, and had died shortly after the first tower had fell, only a month after Adrian was born. I remember him faintly, like the way he smelled like peppermints, or how he would always bounce me on his knee or pick me up to play airplane in the backyard.

The tears began to fall again, in which I quickly wiped them away. I couldn’t focus on my feelings when these three needed me. When my Momma needed me.

I tried to take care of them because Momma really didn’t, and He certainly didn’t give a s***. I was also the oldest of four; Kyrian was second oldest, a scrawny boy with thick framed glasses, like Daddy. He barely spoke, but he was undoubtedly the smartest of all of us combined; after all, i’ve repeated the fifth grade twice now, and he was in seventh. Mariah was the third in line, and she was just the cutest little girl ever. She has tan skin, like Momma’s, with thick, wavy brown hair that I could braid all day. She was only in first grade. Adrian was just a year and a half, and I hope to get him out of here before He tries to get to him. I will never let that happen.
“Alyss! Come!” He rumbles, like a thundercloud in the midst of a storm

I run back into the kitchen, feeling three sets of eyes follow me out of the living room, and around the corner. Hr glared at me, and held up a little scrub brush. “Where does this go when you’re done?”

“U...under the sink, Sir,” I whispered, looking at Momma Her for help. Her eyes were pointed at the ground. I glared at the sparkling tile floor, hatred rising in my throat. He walked up to me, so close I could smell his s***ty cologne.

“What do you f***ing say?”

“I-I’m sorry Sir. I’ll never do it again.”

I waited for him to say something, but all I got was a hard whack on the top of my head with the scrub brush. I accepted it silently, as I heard Her gasp.

“Jeremiah! Don’t hit her that hard on her f***ing head! She’s prone to seizures!”

I looked up quick enough to see Him grabbing my Momma’s throat, picking her up on her tip toes.
“Do NOT tell me how to f***ing raise these kids Emilia! Who do you think you are?”

I started to cry, looking at my Momma’s red, panicked face. “Let her go! Let her go!!!” I even beat on his arms, before he kicked me away, hard. He dropped my now blue-faced mother, watching her cough and choke for a minute, before he silently walked out of the house. I crawled over to my Momma, who sat there, stunned. This was normal, but I guess she never got over being hurt.

As if nothing happened, she stood and gave me a small hug. “I’m sorry, sweetie. He was just in a bad mood today. Hey, you want breakfast?”

I shrug. I knew she was lying about him, and she must have knew that  I knew that she was lying. I could never figure out who she was trying to fool more though, me or herself. He was always in a bad mood, he was always angry, always unhappy and ready to hurt. I never knew whose side Momma would chose when He got angry.  Luckily though,She was always so much nicer when He wasn’t home, it almost felt normal for the three, short days, as He was off on business meetings in other states.

“Would you like some more food Alyss?”
I nod frantically, as she went to go get my siblings. I would usually be punished for not speaking my answer, for not addressing her correctly, but She seemed to become more humanlike when He was gone. Sometimes, I imagined her as a puppet, doing what He wants when He is to incompetent lazy. She only did what he told her to do, and if she didn’t listen, she would be treated as if she was a child.
She came back in, Adrian in her arms, and Kyrian standing with Mariah behind Her. She frowned, setting him in his chair at the table. She started making pancakes, with bacon and sausage as we sat silently.  My mouth watered as the greasy, fattening food cooked on the gas burner. Once he left, we would break out all of our hidden goodies and try to have the best vacation from him possible. It almost seemed like everything would be okay. I stared at Momma as she began to sing, her brown hair gently swaying with her. Her smile was radiant, but it didn’t reach to her eyes anymore. She used to be plump, but had lost a lot of weight recently. There was now dark purple fingers around her fragile throat. She was so beautiful when she was alone, and I couldn’t help but to always think of her as a hidden angel, snuffed out by her devilish captor.
“Mommy?”
“Yes Alyss?”
“Why do you stay with Sir?”
She stopped cooking and looked at me, “What do you mean?”
I looked down, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Mommy stopped, and She knelt down beside me, her blue eyes were sparkling with tears. “Alyss...I know you miss your father, but since we’ve had Jerimiah here we’ve been able to live easy... You really shouldn’t be worried about this sweetie, you should be worried about school.” I stared at her in utter disbelief, All I can worry about at school is if my bruises are showing, or if my bones are visible. I don’t even know division.
I looked up at her with pleading eyes, begging her to for once listen to me. “He isn’t nice Momma...we’re hungry…he hurts us...” I whispered, gesturing to all of our already empty plates and our sad faces. My Momma stared at us, then looked away. “Where would we go...how could we survive…?”
I ran to the basement to rip the documentation out of my backpack, the paper crinkling under my light touch, my little legs running as fast as they could.
“Here Momma, we can go to this place! I found it all on my own, it’s called a shelter and it’s for families like us!” I smiled at her, because I thought I finally saved my family, but my mother, my heart and soul, then broke down in front of me. Her hands, once soft and smooth were now dry and cracked, and her eyes looked as if they were broken, not a part of her, as she wept on the kitchen floor. My siblings had ran from the table, thinking  I would be punished for upsetting her.
She sniffled once before standing, staring at me hard. I gulped nervously, preparing to be hit.
I began to cry when she wrapped her arms around me,  her airtight mom-grip squeezed out whatever little oxygen was left in my lungs, before I had returned the warm embrace.  we sobbed and sobbed our hearts out to each other, because It has been just so long since we’ve done this.
So long since we stopped being Mother and Daughter.
She pulled herself away from me, wiping her crystal colored eyes, before walking downstairs.
“KIDS! Pack your things up, we’re gone.”
As quickly as we could, Kyrian, Mariah and I packed up all our belongings that could fit in Momma’s tiny car.She sat on the porch, watching us. Mommy didn’t have anything of her own other than her clothes, so we really just packed up her clothes, and what little toys we really had, and drove off.  We drove off, not one of us frowning, or crying, or curling up. We were a happy family again. As we drove, I turned and I stared out the back window, watching that little house on the left corner of Marigold and Dendrimot slowly fade away. The house that held my nightmares, my fears, and all my hopeless prayers, now an empty shell. I felt a warm, genuine smile dance across my face.