Page 19 of Drowned In Silence

“Good. Now, things will be different today, so let’s go. It’s time to shower and get dressed.”

He beckons me with his grubby finger. I scramble toget onto my feet, silently following his footsteps into the bathroom. I was here last night, but I guess he wants me to get in once again.

“I turned on the heat, so use it sparingly. I want your body scrubbed raw, as clean and pristine as you can.”

I tilt my head in question, not even meaning to. He picks up his hand like he is going to slap me, but stops.

Since when does he stop the assault, the pain?

“I won’t mark you, not today. Just get in,” he growls.

I nod my head frantically, shrugging off the sweater and getting into the lukewarm water. It isn’t hot, but this will be a thousand times better than normal. I pick up the rag I used last night and start scrubbing my body. I don’t even realize my father is still watching until he makes a grunt of approval when I bend over to wash my legs.

“Don’t let me stop you, Angel. Keep washing.” He palms his hardness through his jeans.

I hold back the bile that threatens to spill from my lips.

Once I’m finished washing my body, I step out into my Fathers outstretched arms, holding a towel out for me to dry off. I close my eyes as tight as I can, hoping he doesn't do anything gross while he dries my body. When he’s finished he picks up a skirt and a crop top from the counter, holding them for me to put on.

I must subconsciously make a dirty face, because he instantly shoves them into my naked chest. “Just dress yourself and meet me downstairs.”

I nod my head and grasp the clothes.

I don’t know why he makes me childlike– it's disturbing and gross. I dress anyway, shoving both feet into the skirt before pulling it up over my hips. Shrugging the shirt over my head, I let it fall over my chest.

Wishing he had given me shoes too, I walk down the steps into the living room, halting at the end of the staircase.

“Get in the car,” my mother tells me, shooing me away with her hand. She can’t even look me in the eyes.

What is happening?

I force myself to walk forward, taking that last step down the stairs and across the living room floor into the entryway. I hesitate, looking at the door handle, staring at it with more intensity than ever.

“Move! Go to the car, get out of my house,” my mother screams from behind me. It startles me, making me jump, and grasp the handle firmly in my hand. I open the door, and quickly bolt out to the car.

I haven’t stepped outside of this house in years, I have barely been out into the living room. I've never even been in a car.

Reaching for the door handle, I'm stopped abruptly, a cloth is pressed up against my nose, and everything loses color and turns black.

When I wake up, I am alone in my father’s church. He tied me up and left me here, probably getting something from his office.

If I don’t untie myself and leave now, I may never be able to. I’ve never been away from home, but I never want to go back either. Sitting up from the church pew, I realize only my wrists and ankles are bound, but I’m not tied down to anything.

I’m able to reach down to my feet and start untying myself. It’s a thin black rope, like he pulled it off the Altar or something. Nothing fancy, but very resilient. It takes longer than I want since my hands are bound, but I still have use of my fingers. After finally getting my legs freed, I stand up.

There isn’t a way for me to sneak out the back,so I’m going to have to go through the double doors out front. I hope that he doesn’t hear them, but it’s my only option.

I swallow my fear and head for the door. I’m not able to untie my own hands, but if I can get further away, maybe I can find something out there.

Reaching the front doors, I look around, making sure he isn’t hiding in plain sight. I reach for the handle and push it open.

I’m free.

For now.

Welcome Home

Dynah