Chapter 7 (Pt 1)
�You think you can run from me, boy?�
The tall burly man towered over the scrawny ten-year-old, who stood stock-still, frozen in fear, his blue eyes riveted to the big hairy arms that rested threateningly upon the greasy beer-stained shirt that only half-covered the enormous protruding belly.
�You think you can run from me?� he repeated in a voice that sent shivers down the boy�s spine.
�Please, Mr. Troy, I didn�t mean to�,� he pleaded in a barely audible whisper. �I � I just don�t want to do this anymore. I��
The large arm flew up suddenly and landed with a heavy smack across the boy�s cheek, sending him sprawling on the hallway floor.
�What made you think you had any say in this, eh?� he boomed, the rough voice reverberating against the hallway walls, making the tiny form on the floor shrink in fear. �Who gave you money to buy all those stupid crayons you�ve been playing around with? Answer me, boy!�
�You did, Mr. Troy,� he responded quietly, his head spinning from the blow. He sat up slowly, both hands pressed gingerly against his red burning cheek, as he fought to keep the tears at bay. Why couldn't this just be over? Why couldn't he just stop?
�That�s right�,� the adult drawled out in a semi-disdainful tone, �I did. I gave them to you, now you give something to me. That�s how the game is played. Remember, boy?�
The boy winced at the contended hyena-like expression on his foster father�s face. �Please, Mr. Troy,� he tried again, �Please, I don�t want to do this anymore�. I won�t ask for anything anymore�. Please��
The latter shook his head coldly, taking a step toward him�
The scene changed abruptly. Now he was back on the bed in this house in the middle of the forest. His foster father was right there in the room with him, his greasy hairy arms wrapped crudely around Xandrie�s waist. She tried to break free of his grasp, but his arms tightened like a vice around her, nearly cutting off her air supply, and suddenly she stopped struggling, as she was left gasping for air.
�How about it, huh, Christian?� he challenged, as his face suddenly transformed into that of the man Christian saw earlier arguing with Xandrie � Henri.
�If you don�t wanna play, maybe your friend here can be a good sport? Huh? What do you think?�
With one hand still holding her tight against him, Mr. Troy/Henri let his other hand travel crudely up her blouse, making her wince in disgust. Her eyes pleaded with Christian for help, and Christian tried, he tried as hard as he could to get up, but something was holding him back. He was paralyzed. He couldn�t move a muscle. And for all his struggle he could only watch helplessly as the horrible spectacle unfolded before him. And he screamed, he screamed at the top of his lungs out of sheer helplessness and despair.
�Stop! Please, no! God, no! Xandrie!!!"
***End dream***