5. Princess
five
Princess
Tulip: 2007 Age: 10 ⒈／⒉
I never cried before I got to The Row. No, I cried when I crashed my bike into Mommy’s rose bush. I had like a million thorns poking me everywhere. Now, I cry every day. When I think about Mommy and how much I miss her, that’s when I ugly-cry.
Daddy used to love me. We would have tea parties and sneak Mommy’s chocolate chip muffins before dinner. On the weekends, he would let me help make pancakes for breakfast. Then, we would watch my favorite princess movies.
All the fun times stopped when Mommy and Daddy started yelling at each other all the time. Daddy didn’t want to play with me anymore, and Mommy cried a lot.
Maybe that’s why I cry when I think about her, because she is crying too.
I don’t like The Row. I want to go home so bad it makes my tummy sick. I miss my room and all my stuff. I know Mr. Cuddles, my purple teddy bear, misses me like I miss him. I can’t sleep without him.
Daddy lied. He said I was going to Gramps’s house for a sleepover, so all I packed was my princess blanket and princess pajamas. I would have packed Mr. Cuddles if he didn’t lie.
I told Mommy it was an accident. I could hear Daddy yelling at her. He called me a bad girl.
My throat hurt for days because I screamed so loud. I begged him to save me. I promised to be a good girl, but he wouldn’t listen.
I hate these people. Hazel, the red-headed witch, is a monster. She scared me so bad I peed my pants. Now, she laughs at me and calls me a baby.
Tears instantly fill my eyes when I hear her shoes clinking on the concrete. I hurry to wrap my blanket around me and scoot into the corner.
“You’re awake,” she says, searching for a key on the big circle she carries.
I sniff, wiping my cheeks with my blanket, pressing myself into the corner even more. The block walls are so cold I shiver, trying not to let my teeth chatter.
“Get up,” she grumbles when she shoves the wrong key into the lock.
“I don’t want to,” I tell her, trying to hide my tears.
Her hand shakes when I answer, making her lose her place, and all the keys slide together. Her dark eyes get big. “Do you think I want to look at your ugly face? No, I don’t. Everyone has to do things they don’t want to, including you, precious."
“Leave me alone,” I cry, shaking because I’m scared. She’s the worst monster in The Row. Even the rats and spiders aren’t as scary as her.
“Get your lazy ass up. Dr. Bolton wants to see you.” Unfortunately, she finds the right key, and the metal bars clank loudly when she slides the door open. “Don’t make me come get you,” she warns in her witchy voice, hands on her hips.
“I’m hungry,” I whine, hating how the rumbling in my tummy makes me feel.
“Don’t piss your pants like a baby, and I’ll think about bringing you some toast,” she hisses, tapping her foot on the dirty concrete, watching me climb off the squeaky bed. “Move faster, or I’ll have Tobias come carry you like a baby.”
I rush to pull my blanket around me like a cape while my bare feet slap over the freezing concrete.
When I’m close enough, she grabs me, digging her long nails into my arm. “Ouch, you’re hurting me,” I whine, tears running down my face.
“Shut up, brat,” she rasps, spinning me to look at her. She bends over so she’s my size, pointing her finger at me. “You will keep your stupid mouth shut and pretend to be happy.”
“But I’m not happy.”
She shakes me until I’m dizzy. “Are you dumb? Dr. Bolton hates sad little girls. Do you want to get thrown out with the trash?”
“No,” I whine, shaking my head. “Please don’t let him throw me out with the trash,” I beg.
She stands, yanking my arm so hard I almost fall. “Then keep your lips zipped.”
Our footsteps echo, and I keep my head straight. Too afraid to look at the other cages. She pulls me through the door at the end of the hall. The light in the shiny white hallway hurts my eyes. But the heat feels so good, even though it makes my skin feel tingly.
We stop outside the black door, and she knocks. Then, we wait for Dr. Bolton to answer.
“Enter,” he yells, and she rushes inside, dragging me behind her. “You can go, Hazel,” he says, watching me from behind his big desk.
Hazel hurries out, closing the door behind her.
Dr. Bolton isn’t awful, but his crooked teeth scare me because they make him look like a demon. But he’s always been nice to me. I just hate all his questions.
“You can sit on the sofa,” he tells me.
The brown sofa reminds me of the last time I saw Mommy. She was sitting on our brown sofa crying, and then Daddy made me leave without saying goodbye.
“Why are you crying?” he asks, sitting in the brown cushy chair facing me.
I hurry to wipe the tears with my blanket. “I want to go home.”
He leans back, crossing his legs like a girl. “This is your home.”
“I want my Mommy,” I sniff softly.
He leans forward. “What do you think your Mommy will do?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Take me home. Duh.”
“Your parents gave you away.”
“Daddy just got mad. Mommy didn’t want me to leave. She always gets what she wants,” I pout.
He nods, leaning back, and rubs a hand over his mouth. “Let’s talk about something else.” He smiles and waits until I nod. “Why won’t you eat? Hazel told me you threw your lunch at her yesterday.”
“My lunch?”
All I had yesterday was some crackers and water. The sun was up in the sky, so I guess it could have been lunchtime.
“Yes, your lunch.”
Hazel’s nail poking at my face pops in my mind. “Um… I didn’t like it?” It sounds more like a question than an answer.
“Hmmm,” he hums, watching me twist my fingers in my blanket. “Good girls don’t lie,” he warns, watching the silent tears fall from my eyes.
“I didn’t lie,” I force out. I hate talking to him. He never listens.
“Your Daddy told me you lie all the time.”
“I hate him. He yells all the time. He left me,” I pout. “I want to talk to Mommy,” I beg.
He uncrosses his legs and leans forward again. “Mommy can’t help you. You belong to The Row now. It will make you stronger if you stop fighting,” he tells me, watching me wipe my tears.
“I don’t understand.”
He always says the same things. But I don’t know what he means this time. I’m alone in my cage. There isn’t anyone to fight. I just want to go home. To my room, with my stuff. I don’t like being in the dirty cage.
He rubs a hand over his mouth. “What do you want to be?”
“Huh?” I grunt, surprised by the new question.
He leans back again, shrugging his shoulders. “If you could be anything you want. What would you want to be?”
“Like make-believe?” I ask.
He chuckles, flashing his crooked teeth. “Yes, like make-believe.”
I think for a second, hugging my blanket. “A princess,” I finally answer. “Mommy told me I was a princess, and someday my prince would save me. But I don’t like ugly boys. They’re yucky,” I tell him, pretending to gag.
He smiles, nodding his head. “Hazel,” he calls, and the door opens immediately. He leans forward, staring at me. “Prove it,” he says to me. “Take our princess back to twenty-five,” he tells the wicked red-headed witch.
She charges towards me, snatching my hand before I can pull it away. “Wait,” I shriek, fighting her as she yanks me to my feet.
Dr. Bolton turns, holding up a hand to stop her. “What is it?” he questions.
I yank my hand away, standing in the middle of the room. “I don’t want to go back to the cage.”
He smiles, holding his hands behind his back. “Prove you’re a princess, and I’ll think about letting you out.”
“No takebacks?” I ask seriously.
This makes him laugh. “No takebacks,” he answers seriously before waving a hand, dismissing us.