Redeeming Logan

Chapter One

T he bass of the music thumps through the sidewalk, vibrating my bones as I walk away from the party. I never attend these types of things, but I was desperate to get out of my house. Any type of distraction was welcome, so when my best friend Sarah invited me out with her, I jumped at the opportunity.

Sarah and I are like yin and yang. She’s the lightness to my darkness, although she doesn’t know just how dark I am inside. I don’t think anyone cares enough to find out either. Sarah is the queen bee of this town and gets invited to every shin dig here. People couldn’t care less if I showed up. When I do show up, I’m always hassled for drugs just because of my parents. I don’t even touch the nasty shit. Never have and never will. I’ve seen how it’s corrupted my parents' lives.

The fact that I was even befriended by the queen bee still shocks me even after ten years. When we were nine, she saw me sitting under a tree at the park and came over to sit with me. She started blabbing away about her new Barbie dream house like I actually knew what that was. She hasn’t left my damn side since. Like a remora fish and a shark swimming through treacherous waters together.

Kicking away at the rocks and fallen leaves on the sidewalk, I reminisce on the night at the party. Everyone left me alone to my own devices, just how I liked it. Sipping away at some disgusting beer to try and numb some of the pain, but it never works. The pain lives inside of me like a permanent fixture. It’s freezing outside tonight, and the lingering effects of the alcohol are doing nothing for me at this point.

I trek my way through the darkness back to my shitty reality. Where upbeat music and drunken laughter don’t exist. Where the stale scent of cigarettes and piss lingers in the air of my run-down home. Standing in front of my home out on the lawn, I stare at the dilapidated building. The shutters are falling off at the corners, and the vines are creeping through the foundation. If it were light outside, you’d see the bugs scurrying through the cracks in the windows and doors, but the darkness hides all the disgust from prying eyes.

Letting a deep sigh rattle through my chest, I trudge up the creaking front steps and to the door. I already know it’s unlocked because my parents never remember to lock the damn thing. They claim that no one would want to steal anything anyway. But I know better; drugs are a hot commodity on the streets these days. Twisting the squeaky knob and pushing the even squeaker door open, the smell of mildew smacks me in the face. I quickly shut the door behind me and made my way quietly to my room, hoping to not have to face either of my parents tonight.

The creak of the wooden steps as I make my way upstairs is so loud my heart beats against my rib cage. I don’t get halfway up the stairs before I hear the stumbling of feet from below and the telltale sign of my father tripping over himself.

“Tally Baby, is that you?” My dad slurs as he rounds the corner of the hall by the stairs. “Where have you been, girl? I sure did miss you this evening. Your momma is not as fun company as you are, Tally Baby. Why don’t you come down here and give Daddy some company, would you?”

The sleazy smile that spreads across his face makes my skin crawl. His teeth are bright yellow from the years of smoking and ingesting unidentifiable pills. Bile rises in my stomach as he starts to ascend the stairs towards me. “Dad, I'm really tired after such a long day. I’d really like to just go to bed.” I mumble, backing away farther, hoping he takes the hint.

“Oh, don’t worry, Tally Baby, let’s go up to your room. We can sleep in bed together. Just you and me. Daddy and his sweet baby.” My father grabs my wrist, the bones grinding against each other, and starts tugging me up the rest of the stairs towards my room.

I feel like I can’t breathe as I trip over my feet on the last step, crashing into his sweaty back. He falls over and slams against the wall of the hall and groans. If the light was on up here, I bet you’d see the dirt stain he’d leave behind on the dingy wallpaper.

Scurrying backward I brace myself for the anger to come, but before I can even blink, there’s a loud crash from downstairs. I stare at my father wondering what he will do, and he just stares back at me. We sit like that for what seems like minutes before another crash sounds and the front door flies open on its hinges, slamming against the wall. I hear my father’s nasally gasp behind me before he lazily climbs to his feet and makes his way down the stairs.

“Crystal! Is that you?” He yells down for my mother, but it’s silent. He creeps down the stairs, continuing to yell for my mother, and I follow after him on silent feet. A whimper sounds from the living room, and my father stumbles towards it. “Crystal! Let her go right this instant, you piece of shit!” My father yells. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. I hear a thump and a groan come from my father and decide to chance peeking around the corner.

Before I can even move, I’m grabbed from behind by what seems like a brick wall. I try to kick to get away, but it’s no use. I even try to go limp in their arms, and they just drag me into the living room like I’m a small child. They throw me to my knobby knees next to my father, and I finally look up and notice the men standing in front of us. There are three of them, and one of them has my mother on her knees with a gun pointed at her.

They’re all in black from head to toe. I can only see their sinister eyes staring back at me like I’m a piece of dirt on the bottom of their shoe. It’s so silent you could hear a pin drop in this room as we wait for someone to make the next move.

“Eugene, you've been avoiding me and my men for weeks. Did you really think that we wouldn’t find you?” The man in the middle speaks. His voice is deep and intimidating. It makes my insides quiver, and not in a good way. “You owe me a lot of money, Eugene. You’ve been telling me that you’ll get it to me, but yet here I stand still empty-handed.”

“I-I-I can explain Mr. Adams! I s-swear I had the money for you. I really did, but then she needed food, sir.” He points his thumb at me when he says she, and I can’t resist rolling my eyes because he hasn’t brought food home for weeks. Sarah has been bringing me leftovers from her dinners every day.

Mr. Adams looks at me and then back at my father with disgust. “Well, Eugene, it looks to me like that girl hasn’t been fed in days, let alone months, really. She’s skin and bones. Why must you continue to lie to me while I have a gun pointed at your wife's head?” He tsks as he walks closer to my father. “You have one last chance, Eugene, to give me what I want before I paint these walls with your wife’s brain.” He threatens. The ominous click of the gun echos throughout the room sending shivers down my spine.

I stay silent as I watch Mr. Adams wait for my father to say something. Anything. As much as I resent my parents, I’m not sure I’d like to see their brains sprayed along the living room walls.

“Okay then, Eugene, have it your way.” Mr. Adams says with a menacing smile as he walks back towards my blubbering mother. Before he can get his hand raised to signal to the other man, my father is jumping to his feet and screaming, “Wait!”

Mr. Adams half turns around, listening to what my father has to say. Honestly, I’m pretty interested as well because I know he doesn’t have the money to pay this man back.

“Take her. Take Taliah. You can fucking have her! She’s just another mouth to feed and doesn’t do shit around here! She’s worth more than what I owe you! And she’s still pure because I’ve kept her that way! I’ve never broken her hymen, penetrated her maybe, but I know her hymen is still intact. Just fucking take her and let me keep my wife!”

I’m silent as my father speaks, and my heart plummets into my ass. I knew he was a piece of shit, but I had no idea he would ever do this to me. All of the late nights he used me in my bed against my will because his wife was too high to function. Somewhere deep down inside of me, I thought maybe that would mean something to him. But I was wrong. He just ripped out what was left of my heart and stomped on it.

I can feel the tears well in my eyes as I look up at Mr. Adams, waiting for him to say something. He slowly makes his way over to me and circles me like a vulture sizing up his prey. His finger trails over my hair and then my shoulder blades, leaving goosebumps in its wake. When he makes it back to my front, he tilts my chin up with his calloused finger and smirks before saying, “Very well. I’ll take her instead. She really is a pretty little thing.”