Hands

Eight.

Harry and I flew through the confusing hallways, trying to get to Clio as quickly as possible. My legs ached from running with Clio in my arms earlier, though I hardly paid them any attention.

Thoughts swam through my head. How could I have left her alone by herself like that? I should have been watching the time better. I was such a terrible mother. What kind of mother leaves their three-year-old alone in a hotel room? I wanted to punch myself for even thinking that this was a good idea.

Clio's cries echoed from my phone along with the pounding of mine and Harry's footsteps through the empty hallways until we finally reached the door. Harry fumbled with his room key before quickly unlocking the door and pushing it open.

I instantly ran over to Clio scooping her up in my arms and holding her close to me, though my top was still wet from the pool. Loud sobs escaped my daughter's lips. She hiccuped loudly as tears puddled on her cheeks. I ran my fingers through her hair which usually calmed her down right away, but this time, it wasn't working. I bounced her lightly but she was still overwhelmed with emotion. Clio was inconsolable. I picked her up and bounced her around the room, rubbing her hair and back gently and telling her she was okay. Harry just watched with a concerned expression from the corner of the room. He looked guilty, as if he was the cause. But it definitely wasn't Harry's fault. She wasn't his responsibility, she was mine and I failed.

After a few minutes of intense sobs, Clio wore herself out. Her head rested on my shoulder as she sniffled. Harry grabbed a tissue from the bathroom and wiped her cheeks and nose gently.

"Thanks Harry," I whispered. He nodded at me and stepped back. I sat down and put Clio in my lap.

"Clio, what's got you so upset," I questioned, not knowing why her emotions were so strong. I figured it must have been from all of the sudden changes we were going through, and the fact that I wasn't there when she woke up, but I figured I'd ask the toddler. It wasn't like her to have such an intense tantrum. Clio took a few shaky breaths before speaking in a small voice.

"I had a bad dream," Clio was interrupted by a hiccup. "I was in the closet and daddy was being a meanie to you and then when I waked up, you weren't here," Clio cried, burying her face in my chest.

This wasn't the first time Clio had experienced nightmares involving Dustin. I doubted it would be the last time because 'meanie daddy' was her biggest fear. Dustin had traumatized her quite a bit, but I was hoping to get Clio into therapy soon so she could start healing.

Unfortunately, I knew exactly what Clio's dream was about. Her nightmares were based on real things that she experienced, just like my nightmares. When Dustin would come home drunk or in a bad mood, he was incredibly cruel. He'd often want to take his anger out on Clio since she was an easy target for him. I obviously couldn't let that happen to my baby. So Clio and I practiced something called 'the quiet game' where we would be as quiet as we could and hide for a long time. This is what kept her safe from Dustin on those horrible nights. I'd tell her that we were going to play the game, and then I would hide her in the hallway closet where I promised to come and get her when the game was over.

Dustin would scream at me, punch holes in the wall, and threaten me, occasionally laying his hands on me, causing cuts, scratches, and bruises, all because he couldn't find Clio. But I wouldn't tell him where she was because I knew he would use her to hurt me more and I had to protect her at all costs. I would wait for Dustin to calm down and pass out on the couch before quietly collecting Clio. She was usually fast asleep in the closet when I would come to get her, so I had really hoped that she didn't hear the things that Dustin would say and do to me. But upon hearing her nightmare, it was apparent that she didn't sleep through it at all.