LACY

Summer 2004

The sun is bright, the air is warm. The grass in the park is a bright green, freshly watered and damp, and boys from my school play football.

Birds sit nestled in the trees, and the ducks in the lake swim around as parents and their children through bread to them.

I'm walking around the park with my friends, eating ice cream with our allowance and watching the cutest guys as they run around.

One boy—my best boy friend, not boyfriend, Elikai Almen—looks over at me and waves, and my friends gush to me about how lucky I am that he's my friend.

Or at least that's what should be happening right now.

I wouldn't know.

The basement is damp and cool against my burning skin. I press my head against the wall, trying to picture the outside world.

If only there was a window. Then, I could have a beacon. Like the Angels in the Bible—the ones in the stories at Sunday Mass.

A sunshine savior, coming to take me away.

I bring my legs closer to my body, hugging onto them tightly. My white dress is stained, a blood red color ruining the fabric.

My fingers run along the welts on my legs, my back feels like it's been shredded open. Looking at the wounds, I grow sick and stare back up into the abyss.

Dad told me I look too ugly, too repulsive, right now, that I'd scare his innocent Stella and his golden son Jackson.

He told me I must sit in the basement for a while, and wait. He said I must wait until Mum comes back from her charity brunch to fix me.

But it's been ages. It feels like hours, days, weeks. If only I had a clock, to not go insane in this underground prison.

And then, light floods my senses. My Angel savior has come to rescue me. Like I'm Jesus, being taken up to Heaven in the light.

But my savior isn't an Angel.

My savior is Mum.

Mum runs down the stairs and towards me, wearing her lovely white blouse and her best skirt she only wears when she goes to meet other wives.

When she sees me, she practically jerks back in fright. "Oh, my... my Lacy," She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. "Come, stand up. Your siblings aren't home now."

I gingerly stand up from the floor, walking to Mum, who puts just the pads of her fingers on my shoulders as she takes me upstairs, keeping me far from her.

"Goodness... your legs, my dear," She mumbles warily, taking me up yet another flight of stairs to the second floor of the estate.

I stand in the bathroom, gazing at the marble floor, instead of the large mirror almost mocking my current state, my dirty body in this room.

Like a beggar in a castle.

Mum takes my ruined clothes, and runs a warm bath. The moment I enter, she exits the bathroom immediately, muttering about the ruined white dress.

~~~

When Stella comes home, she starts to babble to me about how much fun she had with her friends, and how sad she is that I couldn't come.

I sit in her room, laying on my stomach on her bed, my chin propped up by my hand, as I let her drone on and on about about a dashing Year 7 boy who winked at her.

"Are you feeling better now? You don't look all that sick to me." Stella places her hand on my forehead, then shrugs. "Maybe it was just a freak flu."

I nod along to the story Dad and Mum probably told her. "Yeah, probably that."

Stella lets out a small giggle. "Dad made it sound like you were dying! He told me on no uncertain terms could I go to your room."

I wish I had been sick.

I wish I was in my room, not the basement.

My little prison.

I smile, laughing along. "I felt really bad for a long time." I watch as Stella sits at her vanity, running products through her curls.

Stella looks at me through the mirror, a devilish little smirk on her lips. "And Elikai was there, at the park," She sing-songs giddily.

I perk up, an actual smile forming on my lips and a slight blush appearing on my cheeks. "And? Did he ask about me?" I ask all too quickly.

Stella laughs. "He asked me—" She's cut off when Mum enters the room, now wrapped in a night robe, her golden hair hanging loosely to her back. "Yeah, Mummy?"

I sit up on the bed, looking at Mum, whose bags under her eyes are far more pronounced now without makeup. "Lacy, I need to talk to you," She says lightly.

I nod, leaving Stella behind at her vanity. Mum takes my hand—she's no longer appalled st touching me now that I'm bathed—and takes me to my room.

Mum sits at my bay window, fidgeting with her hands. She then looks up at me, her expression distressed. She gazes out the window, almost longingly.

I can see a faint bruise on her jawline, one so faint it's almost unnoticeable, but her hair brushes against it, covering the mark from my view.

I stand awkwardly, waiting for her to speak.

Luckily, I don't have to wait long.

Mum turns to look at me, her dark, haunted eyes meeting my light ones. "You know you mustn't speak of your father's discipline to anyone beside me, yes?"

I nod. "I know, Mum. You already said."

Long ago, when I was still very, very little, Mum told me Dad's discipline is a private matter. A matter no one else should know about.

Mum smiles softly at me, though it doesn't quite crinkle her eyes. She goes to me, wrapping her frail arms around my even smaller body.

"My sweet Lacy..." She murmurs, stroking my hair so gently. "Such a good girl."

~~~

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Au revoir,

Eva