The Secrets of Jesse & Noah

Prologue - Jesse

Jesse

(Four years old)

Have you ever wished you could be somewhere else, anywhere else?

I lie on the mattress, waiting.

The rain is beating down on the window, bringing a sense of peace with it. I love the rain. It's so free and calming. Sometimes I stand outside while it rains and I just let myself get wet. For a few seconds it makes me feel a little better.

She slams the door open and stand sin the doorway with her hands on her hips.

"Get over here."

I don't move.

"Get over here. Now."

I walk over to Andrea and she grabs my arm. "You're going to be a good little bitch and do as I say."

"Yes, Andrea."

"Good." She pushes me back into the room. I fall backwards and she grabs me, lifts me off the floor and throws me on the mattress. I close my eyes and wait for her to do whatever she has to.

"I'm going to be angry if you screw this up for me."

I want to be good for her. Maybe if I do something right she'll like me more. It might make her a little nicer. She might not want to hurt me if I'm good.

She grabs my face and makes me look at her. Her eyes are sort of glassy and blank. I wonder if she's been drinking out of her bottle or giving herself her needle.

She smiles sending a shiver down my spine. I don't like her smile. It's always scary and makes me want to cry and when I cry she gets even meaner. She makes me hurt more and if I do something really wrong, she makes her clients even meaner. And sometimes she brings me more of them.

"This is the first time I've given you away all night and you better do a good job because it's payin' me." Her head tilts backwards and the smile becomes dopey. "Today's gonna be a good day."

Closing my eyes, I block out all the other sounds and focus on the rain. The wet, wet rain. It's coming down harder and faster, making a lot more noise. I sigh and roll on my mattress so I can look up at the small window. It's not big enough to see all the rain or even to stick my head outside, but at least I can hear it hitting the glass.

I curl my hands into fists beside my head and watch the drops glide down the glass.

After a few minute, I hear heavy footsteps outside the door. The handle turns and the door opens with a loud creek and the person on the other side steps in.

I can smell his distinctive smell. It's how I know it's him and not one of the others. He always smells like really strong perfume and smoke. I hear his boots drag across the floor in his attempt to be quiet. His loud, almost excited breathing reminds me of how I sound every time someone brings me something to eat.

I feel his hand brush along my back and I bite my lip and hold back the whimper that wants to escape.

I want him to stop.

I want them all to stop.

To leave me alone.

But they don't.

They keep coming back.

Every day it's like this.

I'll never be free.

I'll never be left alone.

I'll never escape.

I'll never be safe.