Although Bob didn't slammed the door when he entered in his house, Michelle
could feel he was at home. In some way, she even could "smell" him. His
unwanted presence caused in her a mix of feelings, but none of them as big
as the fear. Maybe if her hate towards him was equal or bigger than her
fear, she would join all her force to smash his head with a hammer or a
similar object, run away and find a man, which probably would treat her as mud
in his shoes and would repeat the circle of abuse she suffered with her
step dad. Even if it was just a sick fantasy, she prayed to God every night,
begging, with tears in her eyes, to take Bob away from her and being
tortured in Hell forever. Michelle almost could feel pleasure when she
imagined him suffering, burning in flames, begging for mercy and a drop of
water to calm down his wounded throat.
If at least she had her mom with her...unfortunately, she had died in a car
accident, when Michelle was 5...leaving her alone with...with "him". And
now...she had noticed that horrible shine in his eyes every time he looked
at him.... that little boy...he was almost a baby...and a perfect
victim. Her step dad was lucky. And clever. Masking himself as the perfect
neighbour, he had conquered that little and frail child's affection. He would
discover Bob's real identity too late. Rick, his dad, was a nice person, she
knew him, but he was too busy with his job and his own problems to renovate
his parenthood's license. His mom? She was too far away , busy too, with her
new life with a new man, raising her little daughter to be a problem to
Bob's plans. And who would take care of him? Maybe his grandma or grandpa,
which would spend big part of the day sleeping in the comfortable couch,
thinking that the child is near watching TV when he's playing with his toys
in the middle of the street, ignoring the danger around him. She curled in
her bed and sobbed, her tears wetting the pillow. She knew she must to do
something to stop Bob. She felt she needed to prevent that kid......to
protect him......but how? HOW? That thought stinger her even more when she
felt Bob's perverse hands sliding in her breasts and caressing them
coarsely. The weight of his sweaty body smashing her and her dreams of
escape. That was her routine. And there was no way to escape from it.
"Daddy, daddy, please, pleeeeeeeeeese!!!"
Would his requests, helped by his sweet eyes soft up his dad's black and
hard heart? Rick watched at his clock, and rolled his eyes with impatience.
He had to be at work in 20 minutes. Where the HELL was Jonathan's grandma
to take care of him? She had promised to come early.........what happened?
And if that wasn't enough......a brown-eyed little angel with flu was doing
an excellent job pissing him off.
"Jonathan, when I say no, it means NO! I can't take you now, you're sick"
Obviously, he wasn't disposed to take him to the music store and have fun
there. Daddy was so mean!!! There he was, that horrible man sitting in the
couch, checking the newspaper without reading it....He sat in the floor,
pouty, ready to cry.
"You hate me. I'm sure I'm adopted!"
"If you say so......" Rick shrugged, throwing away the newspaper and
indifferent to his son's accusation. The old trick of "
yeah-I-must-to-be-adopted-because-you-don't-love-me". He smiled inside,
remembering how many times he had used that sentence with his parents when
he was a child. "and if you continue annoying me.......we'll go back to the
Adoption's Centre and I'm gonna change you for a girl". His menace worked
out, but he felt guilty when he noticed his son was wringing his hands
nervously, ready to flood the place and drown both with his tears. If he was
8 or 9 yrs old, he probably would laugh at his dad's dumb attempt of change
his behaviour. But at his age, he was too little to understand the joke. The
feeling of being neglected had obviously scared him.
"Come here" He took his son's hand and Jonathan curled at his side, as a
little scared animal searching some protection. Rick rounded him with an arm,
and looked at him, examining his features. He looked exactly as his ex-wife.
The same sad brown eyes, the button nose, and the small mouth he kissed before
so many times before, when they were a happy couple.....the beautiful face
he had made contort of suffering .......all was his fault. But it was too
late to apologize. She was gone.
"how you can say you're adopted?" Rick said, blocking his thoughts about her
and smiling to calm down and infuse some confidence in his son. "You have
your mom's eyes, nose..." He pinched softly Jonathan's nose, and he wiped
his tears away. "the same mouth....."
"Do I have something of you, daddy?"
"Every night I pray to God you don't!" Rick thought, in silence. It would be
his worst nightmare, his son being like him. No way. He wanted him to be
different.
"uhm.....well.......y-you have....." He stammered, trying to find a good
answer. "You have.....you have a nose, two eyes, two ears, a mouth......same
as I!!" It was the stupidest answer he ever gave, but funny and convincing
anyway. His son smiled and sat in his father's lap, curling affectionately
in his chest and making him feel very uncomfortable for that unexpected
demonstration of love. He wanted to hug him...but something really strong
and stupid stopped him........the thought of how gays hugs were. He was
ignoring that a father never hugs enough to his kids. He looked down at his
child, without moving, barely breathing. It was like having a little puppy
in his lap......adorable, but annoying at the same time.
The doorbell rang, and Rick sighed, relieved. "FINALLY!" He exclaimed, and
threw his son back to his side in the couch, almost harming him. It was the
cruel chance he had been waiting to break up the physical contact that his
son was trying to establish.
"Bob!!! "Hey man, wassup?" Rick shook his neighbour's hand, a little
disappointed....he was waiting his son's grandma. But Bob wasn't alone. In
the entrance of the door, Michelle's eyes fixed in the little child curled
up in the corner of the couch, sucking his thumb carefree. When they eyes
met, he smiled at her and his mouth opened a little in a silent hi. She
avoided him, feeling a chill down her spine. In front of her, there was his
step dad's new object of affection. It was hard to look at him without
feeling like crap.
"Michelle missed her bus today" Bob explained, caressing his stepdaughter's
hair, as a loving father would. She felt nauseated by his hypocrisy. Sick
pig. "my car is failing....so I was wondering if you could......you
know......the school is in the way of your work......"
Rick turned around and looked at Jonathan, who instinctively took his thumb
out of his mouth. He knew his daddy hated that. He would cut if off if he
caught him sucking it. His father smiled at his neighbour. A good idea
crossed his mind. He was late to work too......maybe Bob would accept to
take care of his son just for a while....probably his grandma wouldn't
delay!!! "Bob, I think we can swap favours here.......would you ......"
"Ok. Here we are".
His foot pressed the brake of the car, stopping in the front of the school.
He looked at his clock.......practically now he had to fly to go to work!!!
It was late!! But Michelle apparently didn't noticed how hurried he was. She
had been mute in all the way, thinking, anxiety and guilt growing inside
her. "He" was taking care of the kid... he got a good chance to give free
rain to his perversion. She needed to do something NOW. To break that
painful chain and not to add another link to it. "M-Mr Davis........."
She really needed to do it. It was now or never.
"Yes?"
She looked at him. He obviously was waiting for her question. But one more
time, her fears overwhelmed her.
"N-nothing. Thanks."
She got out the car quickly, and slammed the door, hiding her face, not
wanting him to notice she was crying.
Stolen Innocence- pt 2