Page 51 of Silver

My mother thinks I’m good. She tells me so every chance she gets. But that’s not often. She’s busy with the baby now. She rarely comes downstairs. She’s always sleeping when I leave for school and then napping when I get home.

My sister is cute, I guess. She’s not very interesting. All she does is cry and sleep and pee and poop. Someday, maybe, she can be my friend.

I stiffen when I hear my mother’s voice. “Where’s Silver?”

My stepfather bellows, “How should I know? The little fuck probably snuck out of the house again. He’s a sneaky little shit. I should take a belt to his ass when he gets back.”

I purse my lips. I know from experience it won’t serve me well to call out and tell my mother I’m in the closet. My stepfather has taken a belt to me before. Several times. It hurts for days afterward. I’ll keep my mouth shut to avoid that sort of punishment.

“What do you mean he snuck out? It’s dark outside. He should be getting ready for bed,” my mother says in a strained voice.

“Look, you fucking whore. I can’t keep track of your bastard kid. It’s enough that you got fucking knocked up, and now I have another mouth to feed. Plus, you aren’t taking care of the house.”

“Reggie, I will. I just need some time to heal. I promise I’ll be back on my feet soon. The doctor said⁠—”

“Shut up, bitch,” he shouts. “I’m sick and tired of hearing what the fucking doctor said about your fucking C-section. Why don’t you go live with him if he’s so almighty? Let him take care of you and your shit-for-brains kid. That kid ain’t fucking right in the head. He’s retarded or something.”

“He’s not. And don’t use that word,” she shouts back.

I cover my ears and rock harder. I hate it when my mother and stepfather fight like this. It scares me. But this is one of their worst.

I’m not retarded. I know I’m not. I looked the word up in the dictionary. And I’m not that. I know I’m not like other kids, but I’m smart and good.

“Reggie, stop. You’re hurting me,” my mother screams.

I’ve missed some of the drama, and I lower my hands and crawl closer to the door.

My stepfather must throw something across the room because there’s a loud crash.

My mother screams so loud that the neighbors can surely hear her. I almost hope they do.

“You fucking bitch,” he shouts. And then I think I hear him backhanding her. Lord knows I’ve heard it before. A loud thud hits the door to my closet, startling me. My mother?

Several more hard thumps. Is he kicking her?

“Get up, you fucking bitch!” he screams. He keeps kicking. Sometimes, his foot hits the door.

My mother never says a thing. She’s not even crying like she usually is. I’m so very scared. And then I piss myself.

I’m jolted out of a deep sleep and sit upright in bed, panting as I glance at the clock. It’s only midnight. I wasn’t asleep very long before the nightmare consumed me.

I swipe a hand down my face and then remember Daphne. After grabbing my phone, I open the app that allows me to see her. I blow out a relieved breath when I set my gaze on her sleeping body. She’s curled on her side, clutching the chain that’s attached to her shackle.

She’s fine.

She’s sleeping.

I drop back onto the mattress and stare at the ceiling. I’m not stupid. I know the small room I’ve locked her in isn’t much different from the closet my stepfather used to shut me in. But that similarity is a coincidence. I let her use the bathroom before bed. She won’t pee herself. I also provided her with a comfortable mattress, high-quality sheets, and a fluffy pillow.

I’m not my stepfather. I’m not the kind of monster he was. I may be fucked up, but I’m not him. I won’t ever hurt Daphne. I will protect her at all costs. I’ll take care of all her needs. She won’t go hungry or shiver alone in the cold. She’ll never know loneliness or lack of love.

No. I’ll make sure she feels cherished and adored. It will take time for us to reach that stage, of course. First, she needs to learn how things will be between us. She’ll learn. I’m confident of that. She’s mine. Even if she can’t see it yet. She’s my perfect match. I just need to train her to understand.

Yes, there will be times when I’ll have to cause her pain to help her learn, but I won’t leave permanent marks. I won’t draw blood. I may be a monster, but I’m a good man at heart.

She’ll see. She’ll learn. She has to.

She’s mine.