Double Jinx (Wattys2017)

Preface

The room was cold. And dark. She could hardly see her hand in front of her face, though she was grateful she couldn't. Her hand was most certainly broken and her young eyes held no desire to see the twisted and mangled fingers.

Footsteps sounded from above her on the hardwood floor. Loud voices could be heard as the monster who broke her hand yelled at his next victim. A feminine voice could be heard as well but that gave no warmth to the little girl huddling in the corner of the basement. The woman upstairs was just as guilty of the girl's pain as the man was. They were awful people, the girl decided, and she prayed she would never have to look upon their faces again.

More footsteps, more voices. The sound of skin smacking against skin. Again and Again. Then the door to the basement opened and another body was thrown down the stairs. Then more darkness.

"Genevieve, you okay?" Came a soft voice, a pained voice.

Then the boy was sitting in front of her, his face bruised and cut as always. But there was a new cut now, a deep red 'X' slashed onto the tender skin of the boy's neck just below his jaw from where the monster must have branded him as he had so many times before. Despite the new cut that would no doubt scar in a matter of weeks, the boy's face was gentle. He wrapped his small arms around the girl's shoulders, holding onto her tightly for the sake of them both. She cried quietly, her sobs muffled by the boy's shirt. But he never told her to stop or to be quiet, they both already knew better.

"Why did he let you down here?" The girl asked, living up to her dainty name as she cowered in the boy's grasp. She had always been told that Genevieve was such a pretty name, for a pretty girl. But she didn't feel very pretty at the moment. All she could do now was sit in the filth, pray for mercy, and remain absolutely silent. Unquestioningly silent. Just as the boy had taught her.

The boy held her tighter, rubbing her arms to keep her warm, "I disobeyed. It was the only way I knew for sure he'd put me down here. I had to see you, make sure you were okay."

So that was the yelling then, she thought. He must have angered his father who had long since turned his fury on the woman upstairs since his only son was now sitting beside Genevieve in the basement. The two children crouched together, in pain and trembling.

"Don't worry, I'm going to get you out of here." The boy told her, standing on shaking legs and heading towards the only means of escape. A window, placed very high on the basement wall. The boy had considered using it many times when he was locked down here before, but he couldn't reach it alone. And he had nowhere to go.

"He'll get mad." Genevieve hissed at the boy, cradling her injured hand in her lap. There was no way she'd make it out with only one hand, the window was too high and the trek into town was too long. She'd be eaten by coyotes before she ever made it to the main road.

The boy tugged at her arm, "I'll deal with him. Come on, if you stand on my shoulders you can reach the window."

Genevieve shook her head, backing away from the boy, "No. I can't. He'll get me and he'll be mad. I don't want to make him more mad."

The boy returned to Genevieve's side and gripped her arm tightly. He hugged her again, whispering to her that it would be alright. He was quite wise for his young age of eight, the abuse he's been through helped see to that. There were ways for him to escape, to save both himself and Genevieve, but someone needed to stay behind to distract his father.

Only one of them could escape if either hoped to survive.

"You're going to be fine, I promise. Have I ever lied to you before?" The boy asked, patting her hair to calm her rapid breathing. She shook her head, clinging to his shirt with her one hand. She has known the boy for several summers and he never once mislead her. She needed to have courage, like her friend. He was risking everything to save her.