I have always wondered why my parents don’t let me go outside. They tell me that I have a disease called Synogenius Imperfecta which makes me unable to go outside in the sun. They won’t let me go outside at night because they think that I will hurt myself. One time I broke my leg and they didn’t take me to the hospital. My mom thinks I am a baby and she treats me like one but I know that she loves me. My dad on the other side is an over aggressive man. When I do something wrong he beats me and starves me. My mom tries to stop him but my dad never stops.
They hate when I go through their room but I do it anyway. I always go on searches through the house because I have nothing else to do. I never find anything, but today was different. Their room: always so clean so I never do a real search of it, but today I found something. I found a box taped to head board under their bed that said “Baby pictures”. So the natural thing to do was to open it up. When it was open I saw about 14 newspaper clippings all ripped and tarred. They all said “missing persons” on it. I picked up one of the clippings up and… it was me. The newspaper clipping had a picture of the two year old me on it. I picked up another one and it was a image of me again. The picture was from last year. Why do my parents have so many pictures of me on missing persons reports?
The front door opens. I freak out and spill all of the newspaper clippings in the process. I scramble to pick them up. The footsteps get louder and louder. Closer and closer. I hear the doorknob turn. I put the lid on the box, slide it under the bed and…
“Hey Mom!” I say out of breath.
My mom walks over to me very gently and asks, “Hey sweetie. Why are you in our room?”
I say making it up on the spot, “I didn’t want to tell but I am making you something for Easter. I need to know about things that are important to you. I’m sorry mom. Can you forgive me?”
“I am so sorry to ruin the surprise but you know your dad doesn’t like you in our room. I will make a deal with you though. Your dad won’t find out about this and I will give something to you to use for your gift if you never come into our room ever again. You know what your dad will do if he finds out !” My mom says.
“I know. I know.Just please do not tell dad about this I have already been beaten this week.”
The next day I wake up to my parents screaming at each other.
“You let her into our room! Do you know what she could have found!” my father screamed.
“I didn’t let her into our room,” My mom blares back, “She wandered in there by herself and of course I know what she could have found! You forced me to send out the missing persons report! If you think that she found the pictures. She didn’t. I know that for sure!”
“How do you know she didn’t find them?” my father yells.
“She didn’t! I swear! I would have noticed if she was looking at newspaper clippings of missing people! All I saw was that she was reaching under the bed” my mom screams.
“That is where the box is you genius!”
I run down the hall, sprint for my parents door, and slide under the bed. I snatch the box and bolt back to my room but my father is standing at the foot of my bed. I feel my heart pounding out of my chest as he stares me down at the foot of my desk. He sees the box and his face fills with anger.
“Come here right now!” I shuffle over to him trying to keep my distance, so I don’t get beaten. “How did you find that box?” he says very sternly.
“I found it under your bed yesterday.”
“Who have you told about the box?”
“No one! You won’t let me leave the house!Who am I supposed to tell anyways. The lamp!
“You are coming with me right now!”
He yanks me by the arm as we walk down the stairs. He takes me straight to my mother who is in front of the basement door.
“I told you that she found the box.”
My mom looks at the box in my hands and has a face of fear.
“Both of you will pay for this!” My father says as he drags me down the wooden stairs to the basement.
He throws me on the cement floor of the basement. I can feel the happiness drain from my body.
My mom screams at my father to let me go as she runs down the stairs. I hear the footsteps upon the stairs and my dad struggles to draw my mom away. The door shuts. My heart drops as I hear the rusty old lock click.