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Her hands trembled as she banged on the smooth wood of the door, pushing against it.
Wet tears rolled down her face as she hiccupped, attempting to speak.
“Please,” Joy begged, her head resting against the door, “Let me out! I’m sorry, I promise I won’t do it again!”
The door shook, a loud bang emanating like thunder, causing Joy to shriek and collapse to the ground.
She sobs, scurrying backwards until she hit the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face down.
“Quit yer fuckin’ whinin’ or else I’ll add two more days!” The man behind the door screamed, before the door shuttered, the wood creaking as it was struck again.
“Mommy, mommy, help me.” Joy sobs to herself, despite knowing her mother wasn’t going to come save her – not anymore.
“Yer whore of a mother is dead, you bitch!” Then came another bang, causing another whimper from the girl. “Don’t mention that slut again.”
Sniffling, she bit her lip, trying to muffle herself. She wouldn’t have come to the man if she had known he would treat her like this – that he would lock her away inside this closet for making a simple mistake.
After the death of her mother, Joy hadn’t known where to go – so she had cleaned herself up, running from the weird Goblin creature that had appeared, to the home of her mother’s friend.
Well – she had thought he was her mother’s friend. Apparently, she was mistaken. He wasn’t a friend at all.
“Clarissa’s gone? Shit, I always figured someone would take her out, with the way she left the cathouse. I don’t run that kinda business, but I can find some use for ya.”
Alexander was cruel - using the child as if she was his own personal servant – taking her in just to have her do all the labor he didn’t want to do – pushing the 8 year old into near constant exhaustion. It was better than the alternative but it still wasn’t like home.
She sniffles, wiping her eyes, having managed to control her breathing.
‘I just have to get through tonight.’ The child thought to herself, still curled up.
Suddenly, she felt a presence next to her, cooing and petting a gnarled hand against her head.
“Oh, poor Mistress. This isn’t right.”
Joy gasped in fear, refusing to open her eyes, afraid of what she would see in the dark.
“Your Father is quite upset at this. You just need to let go, Mistress, and it will be all better.”
The child felt her sense of self slipping once more, as if it was draining away from her, something dark tangling itself into her soul.
“I’m scared.” She whispered, not sure to who.
The door shuddered once more, but she could hear nothing around her.
“Don’t be. Your Father is with you, inside your heart.”