Page 81 of The Forbidden Villain
Scrunching my eyes, I let the tears stream down my cheeks and hold back the sobs threatening to escape.
I focus on the water instead.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“There is no life for you besides this basement.”
Hit. Hit. Hit.
“Little lying whore! You give me what you promised. I want a daughter with the perfect genes, just like you. The prettiest girl and all mine.”
I hear a ripping sound and press my palms against my ears, rocking once again.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“No! I hate you! I’m not yours. I belong to my family!”
Hit. Hit. Hit.
“You have no family besides me. Forget about them. They think you’re dead!”
“You’re a sick bastard!”
Hit. Hit. Hit.
Mama cries out and then whimpers in pain, and my hands form fists. He probably grabbed his belt again and hit her on the back.
“You’ll give me what I want. A little princess with your eyes. We’ll be a perfect family then.”
“Get off me!”
I rush back to the bathtub and turn the faucet on full force, watching the water cascade from it and muting the outside noise away.
Those are Mama's instructions, and I have to follow them.
And gripping the bathtub’s edge hard, I kneel beside it and stare at the water for what seems like forever before the doorunlocks behind me, and she steps inside, throws a blanket over me, and turns the faucet off.
“It’s all right,moy lvenochek,” she whispers as she wraps her arms around me, surrounding me with warmth and her sweet scent that calms the rapid beating of my heart. She rocks me in her arms and presses her back against the door, and I feel her tears dripping on my cheek, but I don’t open my eyes.
I don’t want to see his bruises on her again. Her pain crushes something inside me that I can’t explain, and it makes me wish to hurt that man too.
So he’d be the one crying and begging and not us.
Mama kisses me on the cheek and exhales heavily while her arms squeeze tighter around me, “Vse budet horosho.” She whispers that everything would be all right in Russian, and I look at her right away because it’s a secret between us.
He told Mom to never speak her native language ever again, as he doesn’t understand it and hates the idea of Mommy holding on to her past that’s null and void now.
Whatever that means.
I sigh, tears filling my eyes at the sight of Mommy’s black eye and the blood dripping from her bruised lip. Placing my splayed palm on her chin, I wipe it away, and she smiles. “Don’t worry,moy lvenochek.Skoro vse eto zakonchitsa.”
That has been her go-to phrase for the past month: “Soon, it will all end.” And in such moments, I’m so happy that Mommy ignored the monster and slowly taught me Russian via various games and fairy tales she told me in her native language.
That’s how I’ve learned about the outside world. Mommy is a magnificent storyteller, and through her words, I can imagine what it’s like to see the sky, the ocean, the trees, or even other people.
Mama has a gift.
Leaning closer to my ear, she whispers right into it because the monster might have left the basement, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be listening. That’s why Mommy conducts all our lessons in the bathroom, with the water running.“Tvoy dyadya skoro naidet nas i vse budet horosho.”
