I wake up and run to Thomas's room. Mom and dad were fighting again. And this time, it was bad. Really really bad!
Opening his door, I run to his bed. I shake him. Tears running down my face.
Thomas jolts awake. His eyes wide and his lips pulled in a tight pout.
"Cami," he whispers harshly. "What do you want? It's not even light outside."
I sniffle and point to the door that was wide open.
"Mom and dad are fighting. It's really bad."
His face relaxes into a sad expression. Pulling me into the bed with him he holds me tightly. Urging me to stop crying.
"They'll stop in a few minutes. You know that."
I nod. I did know that. I also knew that they only started this last year. The year I turned five. I was now six.
Thomas was twelve. And he always made sure I was safe. Always there for me.
"Just take a few deep breaths. Dad will come get you." Just like every night.
Every night I would wake up hearing them argue. Every night I would run to Thomas. Every night dad would come take me back to my room.
It was a constant loop.
Except for daytime. During the day mom would act like I never existed. I tried hugging her one time and she pushed me off, making me fall off the porch.
I broke my arm and dad glared at her, taking me to the hospital.
She wouldn't pick me up from school. She would pick Thomas up, but she always forgot me. So I had to sit there until dad came and got me.
Thomas held me there, but he gripped me tighter when we heard mom scream out, slamming doors.
He got up, holding me in his arms, and ran out his room. Dad was standing there, trying to calm her down.
"Dad? Mom? What's wrong?"
She looked over and her eyes widened when she saw me. I gripped onto Thomas tighter. I didn't like the way momma was looking at me.
She never looked at me with such luck. With such hope.
"Camellia, my darling, come to momma?"
I shook my head. "I-I wanna stay with Tom-Tom."
Her face scrunched up in anger. Her hands clenched tightly.
"Damnit, you ungrateful brat! I said come to momma!"
I whimpered and tried to get out of Thomas's arms. If I went over to her she wouldn't be mad.
But Thomas wouldn't let me down. His eyes glanced at dad as he took a cautious step back.
"Thomas," dad said calmly. "Run."
Thomas ran out the front door. The last thing I saw before he did was dad grabbing onto a kicking and screaming mom.
Now I was sitting outside the school waiting for dad to pick me up.
Dad said mom went away. And that she would come visit sometime. She was always so mean to me, but I really missed momma.
She was my momma.
Things around the house we're calmer. I slept better during nights but I still had nightmares.
Instead of running to Thomas I went to dad. He always got up and fixed me chocolate milk, putting me back to bed.
I would bug Thomas to let me play his PlayStation. And he would always huff and say not right now. But after he died he would let me play with him.
When a car pulled up I tilted my head to the side like a confused puppy. This wasn't dad's car. His was a black truck with pretty purple colors on it.
This was a grey car.
When momma got out I smiled widely.
What was she doing here? Was she visiting like dad said she would? Was she going to come back home?
She looked around weirdly. Like she was looking for someone.
"How would you like to take a ride with momma?"
She held her hand out to me. I smiled and took it.
But what about dad? Did he know momma was coming home? Did he know she was picking me up?
Getting into the backseat in a new booster seat I smiled at her. She buckled me up quickly.
While driving down the road I watched the cars drive by. I watched the nice houses turn into icky ones.
"Momma? Where are we? Aren't we going home?"
She looked at me through the rear view mirror.
"We are going home, silly. Didn't daddy tell you? He doesn't want you anymore."
Tears form in my eyes.
Dad didn't want me anymore?
Why?
Did I do something wrong? Was I not good?
"Your gonna live with momma now, Camellia."
But I wanted Tom-Tom and dad....
####
"Get down here you little shit!"
I groan as I hear her yell. I've been living with her for four years now. And I learned not to make her angry.
She had came home one night with a man. He looked twice her age, but who was I to say anything. I was only a little girl watching her mom bring new men into the house every week.
So I finally said something about it.
I told her how I didn't exactly think it was okay. And the man questioned her as well, asking if what I said about new men every week was true.
Of course mom said no, and that I had an overactive imagination.
And after he left she came after me.
She slapped me across the face, yelling at me and telling me that I ruin everything.
She then locked me in the closet. That was the first time she's ever done that.
Usually she just hit me and withheld food from me for a few days.
This was new and scary.
The closet didn't have any light coming through. There was a handle, I could feel that much, but the lock was gone. There wasn't a lock hole.
There was no way for air to circulate. If the air didn't circulate then how would I get enough air to breathe?
I banged on the door and screamed. I screamed until my throat hurt and I couldn't cry anymore.
And from then on she locked me in the closet.
Being locked up in a dark, small, space can make anyone crazy.
Sometimes I thought she forgot about me.
Most of the time I would hum to myself. That was the only thing that let me know I wasn't dead.
"Yeah?" I say walking into the room.
She was sitting there with a cigarette hanging from her lips.
Mom honestly looked awful. Her hair was all greasy from lack of showers. I couldn't say much, my hair looked about the same.
We both were extremely skinny. Food was something we didn't have all the time. So I went hungry most nights.
She smelled like cigarettes and old sex. Yes, I was ten, and I knew what sex was. Having a whore of a mom would do that to a child.
She snarled at me. Ashes from the cigarette fell to her lap. She hissed and swatted.
I held back a laugh. If I laughed I'd get hit. And I didn't feel like getting hit right now.
I'd cower before her and she'd throw me into the closet again.
If only dad didn't just give me up.
"Get ready to go out. I need money and you're much younger than me. Go get dressed."
She's never made me do this. She's always gotten her money.
Why now?
"Mom," I say pleadingly.
I didn't want to do this!
"Don't mom me," she snarled. "Do as I say or it's the closet for you! There's things for you laying on my bed."
Nodding I go back to my room.
After putting on my outfit I look at myself in the mirror.
I didn't have boobs yet. So my chest was flat in this skintight dress. It stopped at my inner thigh. And I wore heals.
To make myself look more "fuckable", as my mom put it, I put eyeliner on and red lipstick.
Walking back into the room she smiled at me.
"Look at you! All prettied up for momma. Now, if he wants his cock sucked it's five dollars. A good fuck is thirty. Especially for a untainted body like yours."
My bottom lip trembled, but I held the tears back. I couldn't cry. Not now.
Maybe later.
Walking out I make my way a few blocks down. I don't know what to do honestly. I don't know how to ask a man for money like this.
I've never done this. This was all so scary.
"Hey." I felt a hand on my arm and jumped back. I looked at the guy with wide eyes.
His skin was a light brown. His eyes are hazel and he had tiny freckles on his nose.
He looked around my age.
But that didn't mean he was harmless.
"Are you alright? Why are you dressed like that?"
I rub my arms and shrug.
Was I supposed to tell him? Was this how it went?
"Five dollars to suck your cock. Thirty for a good fuck."
He holds his hands out and gives me a strange look.
A confused laugh leaves him.
"How about you come inside? Get something to eat?"
Something to eat?
I perked up and he smiled.
Walking inside I met Robert, Erik's dad. I got to know them and they gave me snacks to eat and fresh water to drink.
"Would you like to take a shower," Robert asked.
I shook my head.
If I took a shower she would know. I wouldn't look all nasty anymore. I wouldn't smell like this.
"Will you tell me why a little girl like you is out there trying to get money like this?"
I shake my head again.
I couldn't tell him. Could I?
Mom always told me that if I was taken away from her I'd be put in the system. And the system was worse than living with her.
I didn't wanna be put somewhere that was worse than mom. I wanted to be okay.
He nodded. He didn't look too happy but it looked like he wasn't going to push it either.
He pulled out a wallet and took out fifteen dollars.
Handing it to me I looked at it like it was practically gold. Mom would be happy about this.
She wouldn't bother me anymore right?
"If you need anything after that come back. We'll give you food and water. Money for why ever you need it. My shop is always open."
I smile at him and make my way home.
####
After that day I saw more of Erik. Mom would make me go out looking like a street whore.
She always thought I was giving myself away to strange men. But I was really going to Robert and Erik. They helped me. And I soon opened up to Erik about what was happening.
He asked if I wanted him to tell Robert, but I said no. I didn't wanna deal with more stuff than I already was.
I was sixteen now and Erik was seventeen.
I learned he was gay after walking into his room one day and he was kissing some guy.
Honestly, I felt bad I ruined his moment. But how could I know he would have someone in there?
Me and Erik went to the same middle school apparently. But since he knew my real name I told him to still call me Olivia Simian at school, the fake name mom gave me.
It was a surprise I even passed middle school. But Erik helped me with the work and made sure I passed the SOLs.
My excuses to mom about leaving every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturdays was earning more money. And she didn't have one problem with it.
But in reality I was meeting up with Erik, studying so I wasn't behind everyone else.
I would show up with new bruises and cuts from where mom would hit me. He hated seeing me like that. Erik knew what I went through and he was my safe place.
He was my best friend.
Robert would leave us sodas and bags of chips on the table. He knew I came over on those days, and whenever I didn't show up they would worry.
But sometimes mom would leave in the closet or beat me so bad I wouldn't be able to leave.
I was still extremely skinny. Sicking so. But having Robert give me bags of chips and sodas on the days I came over helped me gain some weight.
I couldn't exactly see my ribs anymore. But I wasn't exactly healthy either.
But now I was sitting here with Erik watching Lion King. It made me cry the first time we watched it.
Erik held the chip bag over to me and I stuck my hand inside, grabbing a handful.
There was a knock at his door and Robert peeked inside.
"We have a customer. Can you two come down and help me?"
Erik groans but I nod excitedly. I loved helping Robert around the shop. He let me paint the sign I brung over. We hung it right outside the shop.
I thought he wouldn't like it, but he said it gave the shop more character.
I loved Robert. He was like a dad to me.
We walked out and I couldn't believe my eyes.
Standing there was my actual dad.
He looked at me and his eyes widened and filled with tears. And before I knew it he had me in his arms.
My face was pushed against his shoulder, tears threatening to fall. But if I cried I'd get slapped. I knew that. Mom always hit me when I cried or did something wrong.
Robert was standing there with a confused expression on his face. Erik looked at me with knowing. I've told him everything.
From Thomas running out the house with me to her picking me up from school. And everything then on.
"I've been so fucking worried about you. Where is she keeping you?"
I pull away from him. He tried to hold me but I shoved him away. He looked hurt and confused.
Like he didn't tell mom he didn't want me!
"Cami, come on, don't act like that. I just wanna hold my babygirl."
I shake my head and back away from him. The tears sliding down my face without permission. I hated being so sensitive.
I hated being so weak.
I hated being walked all over.
I hated me.
"You left me," I say crying. My voice shook with emotion. "You told momma you didn't want me anymore."
"No, no, no. I never said I didn't want you anymore, Camellia. I love you so much."
I let a sob out and Erik puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him.
"Then why did she tell me that? Right after you told me she would visit!"
He let out a sigh and his head hung low. He bent down to one knee and looked at me with a sad look on his face.
I've never really seen my dad look like that. He was always so happy and carefree.
"Your mom wanted to take you away from me. We argued and fought so much that night. So she left. She said she was done with us and just left. So I told you she'd visit sometime. Because I didn't want you to think anything bad about your mom, because she was your mom. But then she took you away from me. She stole you. I have no idea what she did to you, and I'm willing to listen."
I give in.
Running into his arms I tell him everything.
From the beatings to the closet. To her making me go out in reveling clothing for money. To how I know Robert and Erik.
Dad listened. He cried with me, holding me, letting me know I was safe again.
He thanked them for helping me in the only way they could.
And then he took me back to his place.
I had to tell the police what happened. I told them everything. I told them where mom lived.
We had to go to court and she was five feet away from me, glaring at me. Making sure I knew she hated my guts.
I went through therapy alone. I had nightmares and had to take antidepressants and other pills to help me.
But I was safe. I wasn't okay, but I would be. I was finally away from mom.
My body was finally healthy. No bones could be seen from underneath my skin. I didn't look half dead.
My hair was healthy and had grown a few inches. It was curly and a vibrant red almost.
My cheeks were pink and my green eyes didn't look dull and lifeless. They looked like they had something to live for now.
I gave my virginity to some random guy a few months back in highschool. Erik told me it was a stupid thing to do, but I wanted to get rid of it.
It was haunting me. Taunting me. Making me feel trapped and ugly.
But it was gone and I didn't have to feel like that anymore. I was finally free from that hellhole.
Dad didn't want me going out and getting a job either. He wanted me to stay inside where it was safe.
But I told him I had to go. That college was a good start for my new life. I was finally better. The nightmares were almost gone. And I didn't freak out in crowds.
It was my life and I was going to live it. I was going to get better. And I would.