𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅

5. don't take me there

"What's..... that over there?"

"The door. Like I've said... for the 100th time." Michael grumbled.

I didn't like this game. I lost track of how long it's been since Owen left. Where to? Don't know. I asked Michael about it, but he wouldn't open his stupid mouth. Michael convinced me to play a game of iSpy with him and Molly, but Molly left to potty during the second round.

She never came back, though.

That left Michael and I to play for another three rounds and I can already tell Michael isn't happy about losing to me. I always win.

"Ummm... what about... OH, that over th-"

"Luna, if you point to that god damn cobweb in the corner again, I'm not playing this game with you." He threatened. He gave me one of his serious looks. It was like Owen's, but not as scary as his. I pouted, sitting criss cross applesauces with my back leaning against the lockers. The room reeked of sweat and poop. It was gross. Michael straddled the bench he was sitting on and slouched.

"Are you tired?" I asked. He nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. He did that a lot. I didn't like seeing people sad. I knew how much Michael wanted to follow Owen outside. When he realized he couldn't go, he looked sad. I didn't want him to be sad. I recognize that look on people whenever my mommy asked our neighbors to watch over me whenever she needed to leave. Our neighbors sometimes had to leave themselves, but would often have to cancel their plans to take care of me. I would pretend not to notice, but they all look sad.

I scooted over to where he sat and cradled his leg. I know the whole code with 'stranger danger' but Michael seemed nice. Just like Molly. And just like Owen. I felt him tense as I wrapped my arms around his calf and wrapped my legs around his ankle. Pressing my cheek against his knee, I held tight just to comfort him. My daddy always told me the best way to cheer someone up is by not using words at all. A simple hug or a kiss on the cheek would do. But I don't think Michael would like that.

After a minute of silence, I looked up at him. He was looking back at me, too.

"You k?" Sue me. I couldn't pronounce my o-kays.

He didn't say anything. He just looked at me.

After a while, I contemplated whether I should have done what I did, worried he thought of me as some weird little girl. Instead, he picked me up from my spot on the floor and set me in his lap. He turned me around in his lap so I was facing him. His brown eyes never left mine. He held me steady in his lap and before I could say anything, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in for a hug.

A. Hug.

That's a start!

I'm so proud of him!

I responded, wrapping my small arms around his broad shoulders. He was a big man. But that never stopped me from a hug. He nuzzled his nose in my hair, cradling the back of my head with his large man-hand. I smiled into the hug. I liked this side of Michael. It was the only side I knew so far, but I like it. Hopefully, daddy isn't too upset with me for breaking the code. But, I knew he'd like Michael. He's nice. Just like my daddy.

LIVING PROOF

"So, what are y'all gonna do with her?"

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I fiddled with my tiny fingers, picking at the skin just out of habit. I hated being looked at funny. My stomach was in knots, my head pounded from all that screamed coming from outside the doors, and my eyes drooped from time to time. I wanted my warm bed with my stuffed Minnie and I wanted a nice can of tomato soap just before heading to bed. I wanted to feel the warmth of my sheets and I especially wanted my mommy here with me. I didn't know these people. They're nice people, but I don't think these people have a bag of 'Hello Kitty' bandages just in case of boo-boos.

Owen looked awful. I wouldn't tell him in person, obviously, that's mean. His hands were bandaged, the blood seeping through the white cloth over his knuckles. His lip looked purple and blue, his eye the same color. He looked good as dead, but I don't think he noticed. He continued to talk to a man eyeing me from his spot.

I wonder if anyone ever told him staring at people is rude.

"Don't know. Michael's refusing to leave her in the ditch." Owen informed, glancing at me from time to time.

"You suggested leaving her in a ditch?"

"We'd leave her blanket." Owen shrugged, his voice rough as ..... something rough. I couldn't think of anything, but it sounded pretty bad.

The man shook his head, "Hay dios mio." I fiddled with a strand of hair and chewed at my bottom lip. I didn't like being here. It was gross and scary. A bunch of scrappy men walked passed me and straight into the back room. Michael left to grab some snacks; asking if I was hungry. He hasn't came back and he's the only reassurance I have right now. Apparently, Molly left with a man right after the screaming match was over. At least, that's what Michael told me.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice a figure walking up to me and crouching down to my level. I jumped, just now noticing Owen and his grape for an eye. He crouched a few feet away from me, maybe afraid of cooties. I hated those darn cooties.

"Um, okay... well, here's the plan." He started, looking from the man to me.

"Until we locate where the hell your mother went, we'll just have to drop you off at the police station and see what they can-" The police? Was he insane? I can't go back there. Not again. Not after the last time.

I grabbed a hold of his arm, gripping it tight, "NO! I don't want too! I-I can't go!" I yelped. He must have not expected my sudden outburst because he grabbed both my shoulders like if my whole body was unhinging itself. He gripped tightly, the wraps soaked in much more red for my liking. "Whoa, kid! Don't yell like that, man!" He sneered, standing up to his full height. His scowl reminded me of a mean dog. It wasn't a pretty picture.

I wrapped my small arms around myself, hiding behind my curls. It was my only way of shielding myself from the rest when I felt at harm. It's always helped me.

"What the hell is wrong with you, kid? Don't you understand I have no other choice than to take you in?" He fumed, grabbing his bag fiercely and stuffing his belongings in aggressively. Out of habit, I flinched. I didn't like this. I didn't like Owen yelling at me. It wasn't nice at all.

I held back my tears, my breathing shallow and heavy. "I- please, just ... don't take me to them. I- I'm scared. Please, just .... please." I whimpered, wanting nothing more than to cuddle close to my stuffed Minnie right about now.

Or better.

My daddy.

I didn't hear anything after that. I refused to look up and meet his scary eyes. I just shielded myself and hoped for everything to vanish. I wanted to go home. I wanted home.

I could feel my throat clog up, wanting to just scream and beg for my mommy to be here.

The tears threatened to spill.

Only they didn't. I didn't allow it.

He didn't allow it.