Chapter Seven
My head pounds and my stomach heaves as I continue to vomit into the toilet. I don't know how I have anything left to bring up. The only thing I've had for the last three days is water.
When my aunt and uncle came home on Sunday morning and realised that I stayed out on Saturday night, they withheld food from me. And when I tried to leave to go to work on Sunday afternoon, I realised they had locked me in my room.
As my stomach begins to settle, I lower myself down to the tile, gently placing my throbbing cheek on the cold tile floor.
I know I can't lay here all day, if they find me here, they'll only give me another beating. I need to move. I need to go and prep dinner ready for them getting home from work. I just need another minute and then I’ll move.
I jolt as a door slams. "Oh. Ow," I croak out as I try to move. Shit, I'm still on the bathroom floor.
"You lazy worthless piece of shit. You were told to make sure that dinner was ready. Get off the floor and get into the kitchen," my aunt yells at me.
I groan as I try to move. My eyes sting as I blink a few times, trying to prise them open. Spots dance in my eyes, causing my vision to blur, but I can just make out my aunt leaving. I let out a breath, only to see the shoes of my uncle step around the door.
He doesn't say anything, just grabs me by my hair and drags me across the floor, out of the bathroom and all the way into my bedroom.
I try to grab at his hands, try to stop him, but I can't lift my arms. Once we make it into my bedroom, he throws me to the floor then leaves, locking the door behind him.
I've taken a few beatings in the five years I've been here, but this is by far the worst. It's never lasted this long, and my uncle has never been quiet, he always has something to say, some remark or insult.
The silence is unnerving.
I try dragging myself across the floor to my bed, but it's just too much effort, so I lay my head down, letting the darkness take me as I pass out again.
Someone calling my name pulls me from sleep. I lie there for a minute, letting my body adjust to being awake, and my head pounds as I hear Mason call out my name and I try pushing myself up to my knees.
My head begins to spin and my stomach swirls, but I need to get to him, so I push up and crawl along the floor to the door. Grabbing the handle, I try to pull it open. “No. Shit,” I cry out. The door is still locked.
"Nova," I hear Mason cry through the door. "Are you okay?"
"Hey, buddy, yeah, my door is still locked... listen, you've got to go to your room before they come up—"
"They've gone.” He cuts me off. “I need to let you out.” He sobs as I hear him fumbling with the bolt. It takes him a few seconds, but he finally gets the door open.
"Oh, Mase," I cry. "I'm so sorry, buddy." Tears stain his face, his eyes swollen from crying. He’s cradling his left arm, holding it at an odd angle.
“What the hell did they do to you?” I ask, guilt washing over me.
He rushes over to me, wrapping his good arm around me. I hiss from the contact but hug him back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I tried to stop Uncle Roger from hurting you, I ran up the stairs, but Aunt June pulled me down by my ankle and I landed on my arm.”
“I’m so sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you.”
"Nova." He sobs. "Please can we run away?"
I shake my head but don't let him go. I don't want him to see me cry. "We can't, Mase, I don't have enough money, we don't have anywhere to go."
"Riley’s. She'll help us. Please, Nova," he begs me between sobs. He's never begged me before, not like this. He's never cried like this before.
"Mase..."
"I'm scared, Nova. They were really mad at you. I begged them not to hurt you, but they said you needed to be punished. I tried to stop them, but they said that I would be punished too. I'm so sorry, Nova. Please, let's go. I don't want to stay here anymore."
I pull back and gently slide my legs out in front of me, so they are no longer bent.
I look at my little brother and his tear-stained face.
There's a red mark on the side of his cheek that looks like a handprint. Then I look down at his arm. I’m pretty sure it's broken.
I can't leave it like that, I can't leave him to heal on his own, he needs to see a doctor.
He's right. We can't stay here. I knew they hated us, but they’ve never gone this far before. I blow out a breath and then give him a little nod. "Okay, we'll leave. Can you go pack a bag? Only a few things, though, yeah? I need to clean up a little."
He gives me a small nod, wrapping his arm around me once again before rushing off to his room.
I sit on my floor for a few minutes. I have no idea where we are going to go.
I don't have enough money. "Shit." I don't even have my shitty phone; they took it when they got back. I can't even call Riley.
Twenty minutes it took me to pack the handful of things I'm taking.
Mason sat on the edge of my bed quietly, waiting for me, as silent tears rolled down his face.
I don't know where my aunt and uncle went, so I have no idea when they'll be back.
We need to get out of here. But I have no way of getting hold of Riley and no way of calling a cab.
"Hey, Mase, we're going to have to walk, okay? Can you do that for me?"
He shakes his head at me and slides off the bed, stopping right in front of me. "Daddy’s car is still in the garage."
I drop to me my knees, so I'm closer to his level. "Mase, I don't have my license."
"But I thought Riley’s dad taught you how to drive?" he says, confused.
"He did, but I don't have a license. Roger and June stopped me from getting one, buddy. If the police stop us, then they'll bring us back here."
"Nova. Wh... what if they see us walking? What if... what if they catch us?" He sobs, his voice laced with fear.
I pull him to me, hugging him as tight as my body will allow. "Okay, buddy, let's try the car. But only to Riley’s. Can you run and get the keys for me, they are in the desk in Roger’s study."
"Okay," he tells me before running out of the room and racing into the study.
The room begins to spin as I bend down to grab my bag. I sit on the edge of the bed, taking in a few deep breaths, trying to steady the spin. I wish I didn't have to move, but we really do have to go.