Lost Bird

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James 12

James was not looking forward to her father getting home. Even at twelve years old, she understood the malevolent glee her stepmother had in her eyes. She had seen it often and it was evident when she said her father had something to tell her when he got home.

Diane, her stepmom, had an evil, sadistic streak that rivalled only her father, John's, when it came to creatively punishing James. From what James had worked out, she was punished daily for simply existing. In her short twelve years she had learned too much about what a body could take before it breaks.

Her last punishment was pretty tame compared to her past beatings. James was forced to curl up in "the box" in her stepmoms closet for a little over eight hours. "The box" was something Diane and her father had fashioned when they got "sick of looking at the little bitch's face." It was a simple 4' x 3' wooden box that latched closed from the outside. This last punishment was definitely not the longest she had been in the box, but James was exhausted. All her muscles had cramped, and the double kick to the ribs had definitely cause some damage. She knew they weren't just bruised. She was pretty sure they were fractured, by the pain and the way they moved when she took a breath. God I should not know the difference. How many times can this happen before they go too far and kill me? She thought.

James looked out the window longingly. She loved the vast dense forests of Poland. Her family had relocated to Bialowieza Poland about 5 months ago and James couldn't have been happier. They were smack dab in the middle of a national park. Her father had managed to find a pretty secluded compound on the outer skirts of the forest. It was huge and had numerous out buildings.

James had known for a long time that her father was into some pretty bad stuff. Normal people didn't live in compounds with armed guards and transport trucks going in and out all hours of the day and night. Funny thing was, even with the huge amount of staff her father had, no one knew about James. She was always isolated in an obscure room hidden in the main house. When they relocated, which was often, they made her travel in the box. The only freedom she ever got was when James was lucky enough to find blind spots in the security. Due to her small size, she usually found small windows or vents she could sneak out of. Her parents left her alone more than not during the day. And because of the isolation her parents needed for their work, she almost always had a forest to escape to. 

James couldn't count how many places and countries in Europe they had lived. Her favourites so far had been the Black Forest in the South West of Germany and the Hallerbos Forest in Belgium. The forests had always been her sanctuary. Her place to breathe and feel as free as she ever believed she ever could be. Today she knew she couldn't escape because she had been warned her father would be home soon and he had wanted to talk to her. 

About two hours of waiting later, James heard the deep timbre of her fathers voice bellowing through the main house.

"Get the trucks loaded. I want all merchandise loaded and shipped in the next two hours. Anyone caught slacking will be dealt with by me, personally."

Great, thought James, were moving again. Her tiny sore body started to cramp in protest. She wasn't sure if she could survive going back in "the box" so soon after her last punishment. She tensed as she heard footsteps coming towards her room. Her father burst in and glared at James. She coward in the corner, kneeling on the thread bare blanket she used as a bed. 

Fuck, she looks more like her every day! John thought bitterly. Unwanted memories plagued him every time he saw her. Memories of a raven haired beauty looking up at him with cold dead eyes. His temper flashed and he strode forward and punched James in the face.

Her head flew back and smacked against the wall behind her. She felt the instant her lip split and her nose cracked. Her eyes watered and she looked down, knowing her father hated when she cried during punishments.

Technically she wasn't crying, her eyes were watering due to the broken nose, but he didn't care. Tears meant crying in his book. 

"Get your fucking shit together. Were leaving in 20." With that he stormed out.

That was all she got. No destination, no explanation. Not that she expected it. She turned and pulled out her ragged backpack. She packed her laptop hidden in her blanket/bed, two books and the sparse amount of clothes she had left that still fit her and hadn't already fallen apart. She didn't have to worry about shoes. She never got any. In Dianes mind, if she didn't have shoes, she couldn't go anywhere or try to run away. 

She sat in her corner and wondered where they were going this time.