Chapter Six
Happy Hour
Charlotte
I wake up suddenly when I feel a heavy weight pressing down against me, pinning me to the bed.
My screams are muffled as a calloused hand clamps down hard over my mouth.
Panic sets in as I recognize the sickeningly familiar scent.
It’s a mix of sweat, cigarettes, and cheap body spray.
My disgust from the smell alone is enough to make me sick.
As I struggle to break free, I catch a glimpse of his greasy blonde hair and see the piercing in his ear. Hearing his voice only confirms my fears. Corey.
"Rise and shine, dirty girl," Corey sneers, his rancid breath rushing out against my face. "Your momma owes me five grand. She's not paying up any time soon, so now that debt is yours."
I bite down hard on the hand he is holding over my mouth. His grip loosens slightly, but he just laughs at me, completely unfazed.
"Now, now. Play nice my Sweet Lottie, or this won't be any fun for you." I try to twist away, and I manage to get his hand away from my mouth.
"Get off of me and get out of my room!" I spit out. I know what this man is capable of, and I'm terrified of what he might do to me.
"You're in no position to be giving me orders, little girl," he growls, leaning in closer, his face just inches from mine. "You're going to do exactly as I say, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you walk away after I'm done using you."
I flail my body and kick my legs out, trying anything to get him off of me. He easily dodges my blows, and my efforts seem to only amuse him further. His weight pressing me further into the mattress.
"Stop it!" I scream; my voice hoarse. Tears well in my eyes, blurring my vision. "Get off me!"
I feel his hands everywhere, roaming all over my body, squeezing my breasts and groping between my legs. I cry out in pain and humiliation. "Please, stop," I beg. "You're hurting me."
"That's the point, isn't it? You're my little dirty girl now. I'll take what I want, whenever I want. And there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me."
With my good arm, I push against his chest with all my strength, trying to create some distance between us. "Get off me, Corey. Stop, please!"
I buck my hips, trying to break free. He wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing painfully, cutting off my airway. I can't breathe; my lungs burn in my chest as I struggle. He only grins, his eyes filled with cruel enjoyment.
"Fight all you want. It only makes it sweeter." His other hand grips my thigh, his nails digging into my skin.
He leans down so his lips brush against my ear.
"A little birdie told me this pussy hasn't been touched yet.
A perfect little cherry just waiting to be plucked, ripe and there for the taking.
If that's true, and you bleed the first time I fuck you…
I might knock a bit extra off your momma's debt. Maybe."
"No!" I scream. Disgust churns in my stomach. I can't let this happen. My mother has stolen my entire childhood, I won't let her take this from me too. I have to protect what little innocence I have left. This piece of shit can’t be my first. He doesn’t deserve it.
I summon every ounce of strength I have in me to buck him off. But it's no use, he's too strong. I'm trapped with no way out.
"Get off me, you sick fuck!" I scream again, then spit in Corey's face. It's one last desperate attempt to get him off of me.
He freezes, momentarily stunned by my sudden defiance.
His eyes widen in surprise and then narrow again as rage flashes across his face.
Before I even have time to react, his hand snaps forward, slapping me across the face.
The force behind the blow is so hard the room begins to spin, and pain explodes across my face.
"You're disgusting! Don't you dare touch me!" My words are met with another harsh slap, this time on the other cheek. My eyes water as my head snaps to the side.
"You little bitch! You really think you can fight me? Believe me, I’m just fucking fine with that." He grabs my injured wrist, the one he hurt during his last attack on me. The action sends fresh waves of pain throughout my arm, to my fingers. I cry out, unable to hold it in.
"That's it, go ahead, scream all you want.” He tightens his grip on my wrist. "No one can hear you.
No one's coming to save you. No one cares about a broken little girl like you, Lottie.
" His breath is hot on my skin, his lips brushing against my cheek.
"In fact, I hope you scream some more. I like it. It makes my fucking dick hard."
He pulls my hair back, forcing my head up to meet his gaze.
"You're mine now to do with as I please. You can shut your mouth and take it, or I can make this hurt so much more. The choice is yours."
Something moves to the side of us, catching my attention. The relief I feel is instant when I see my mom standing in the doorway, her face twisted in disgust .
"Mom! Get him off me!"
But the relief I feel quickly fades. Instead of rushing to help me, she just stands there. Her eyes are cold, void of any maternal warmth or concern. As if it's too much for her to care about me at all. The disgust on her face isn't directed at Corey; it's aimed at me.
I feel another set of hands on me and my heart sinks. I know without having to look, it's my mother. I turn my head, and my eyes land on my mother, standing next to the bed. Both of her hands are tight around my right arm, her fingers digging into my skin.
"No, stop! Mom, please!"
This can't be happening. She's supposed to be my protector, the one person I should be able to rely on. But instead, she's helping Corey, allowing this monster to hurt her own child.
"Mom, you have to help me! Get him off me!" My voice is hoarse from screaming. I can't believe she's just standing there, watching as Corey gropes and manhandles me. "What the hell are you doing? How could you let him hurt me?"
"God, Charlotte, can't you just do as you're told for once?" Her grip on my uninjured arm tightens. "I'm missing my TV show for this shit!"
"What? No, Mom. Get him away from me!" My voice is in panic. "Mom, please!" I beg, as I struggle and thrash my body against both of them.
"That's enough outta you, dirty girl." Corey begins kissing my neck just below my ear. "You're gonna be real nice to me, you hear me?"
"No, please! Mom, don't let him do this to me!"
She holds my arm tighter, pressing all her weight onto my arm to pin it down to the mattress. "Just do what he says, Charlotte. It'll be over quicker. "
No, this can't be real. Tears stream down my face, a mix of agony and betrayal.
My mother looks at me with a mix of annoyance and indifference.
"Just get this over with. I want to go watch my show in peace and quiet. I can’t hear what's going on over all your damn yelling and screaming."
"Mom, please. Don't do this," I beg, "Please, help me!"
"That's enough, Lottie," Corey snarls, and with a sickening crack, he breaks my other wrist.
Then I wake up, hurtling myself upright in bed.
My heart is hammering in my chest as I frantically scramble backwards.
I push myself into the corner of my bed, trying to free myself.
Doing anything I can to escape the weight that had me pinned down to the bed moments ago.
I struggle to catch my breath, taking in huge gulps of air to try and fill my lungs.
I scan the room, confused as to what is happening.
I'm all alone.
The weight on my chest, the hands holding me down, the sickening scent of Corey, it had all been a dream, a nightmare really.
My heart is still pounding as I wipe away the tears that had spilled over during my struggle. My body trembles as I try to steady my breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm myself. I feel so foolish that a dream could affect me so strongly, but it had all felt so real.
"It's over," I whisper to myself, rocking back and forth slightly. "He's not here. It was just a dream." But even as I reassure myself, doubts creep in. What if this was a sign? A warning of what's to come.
My eyes dart around the room, searching for something, anything, to try and ground myself and pull me back into reality.
I need to stop the panic that's threatening to take over before it completely consumes me.
That's when I notice my backpack lying on the floor.
I must have knocked it off the bed while fighting in my sleep.
The sound of it hitting the floor is probably what woke me up.
I sit and stare at the worn red fabric of the same backpack I've had since I started middle school. The only reason I got a new backpack then was because the school signed me up for one of those voucher programs for children and families in need.
I was given vouchers to use at the local superstore. They were good for a new backpack, a pair of shoes, and two new outfits.
I was so happy and excited to be given the chance to pick out something brand-new, just for me. It was a rare moment of happiness in a life that was otherwise filled with neglect and disappointment. Even now, I can't bring myself to part with it, I still use that backpack every day.
Looking at it used to make me feel hopeful, like maybe everything will be okay. But now, I know the truth, I'm truly alone in this world and nothing will ever be okay.
Then I see it, a rectangle of white cardstock sticking out of the side pocket. The business card Silas gave me.
My eyes flick to the clock on the wall, 5:38 p.m. Less than an hour until I'm supposed to meet him.
Can I really trust Silas? He gave me money with no strings attached; he didn't have to do that.
But what if it was just a ploy, a trick to lure me into a false sense of security?
What if he's planning something far more sinister, waiting for the right moment when I'm alone and vulnerable, locked inside his truck with nowhere to run?