Angel

Chapter Three

angel's pov.

"Mommy, you tell me a story?" I asked, lifting my head from my sleeping brother's chest.

She didn't reply and kept her eyes shut. She tightened her grip on the hem of the blanket and pressed her cheek against the hard, dirty mattress.

It means she is tired. It means no stories for me.

Mommy's stories are strange but it makes her happy to tell them to me.

I like it, too.

She speaks of bees and their honey in the summertime. In the summer, you go out to get ice cream in a cone. Santa on his sleigh and his presents in the wintertime. In the winter, you go make a snowman.

In spring, flowers of different colors grow everywhere. On Easter day, you go in search of painted eggs. In fall, the leaves turn from green to red and orange and they fall to the ground so you can jump in a heap of them. You go carve a pumpkin and dress up on Halloween.

All these things make you smile and happy, she said.

But stories are made up. A story is a lie.

That's all outside but we're inside.

Here, it's different.

There are no seasons here. It's always the same. There are no ice creams here. There is only cat food for us to eat. There are no snow or orange leaves here. It's always dirty, and dim, and specks of blood everywhere.

We live upstairs with no windows and a wooden hard floor. Sometimes I wander in the hallway but Mommy isn't allowed outside this room. Chains are lying around that she and Matteo had to use in the earlier days. Not anymore because they've been mostly good.

If they're not good, I'll get hurt a lot so I made them promise to behave and they did.

Sometimes I'm jealous of Matteo because sometimes he is allowed outside to see the seasons. He always comes back full of sweat, bruised, and angry.

My hugs and kisses always make his anger go away and I love making it go away.

Mommy said he used to smile a lot before I existed. Always happy and sometimes mischievous. There were never bruises on his body for thirteen years.

Not that much anymore, she said.

Matteo stirred and I turned to him. I was lying on the bed between Mommy and him. Teddy, my tear bear was on my chest. I reached out to stroke Matteo's cheek.

"Hi, Matty," I whispered and he gave me a small smile.

"You're supposed to be asleep." He scolded. I wrinkled my nose and ruck out my tongue at him. He pinched my cheeks playfully. "Mom should've called you a little devil instead of Angel."

I giggled and he shushed me, looking fearfully at the closed door.

There are rules I need to follow.

Mommy reminds me every day that I need to be a ghost and shadow. It means I need to hide and quiet all of the time and sneak around the Masters. If they catch me, they'll give me ouchies. Sometimes it is a little one. Sometimes I get a big one. Sometimes I get many of them.