Her bedroom door looked terrifying. Monet sat in the corner of her room, between her bed and the wall, and stared at the door, pulling her knees up to her chest. She knew that she should walk out of her room, go to her father so that he didn't get mad at her, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that there was no point in dragging out the inevitable and if she didn't want to get into more trouble with him, she should go meet him in the hallway but she couldn't make herself do it. He was waiting for her there, waiting for her to make a mistake so that she could get into trouble again. She couldn't put it off. It was bound to happen anyway and if Jasmine was still living there with her, she wouldn't have hesitated to run out there the first time he called her, scared that he would hurt Jasmine just because she wasn't obeying him but now that Jasmine wasn't here to be a motive for her, Monet felt no sense of urgency to obey him right away.
Another knock on her door brought her to her senses. That knock had been more aggressive than the last ones and Monet jumped to her feet quickly, on alert. Her father was getting mad at her now. Monet didn't want to know what would happen if she made him madder. She walked over to her door, listening to her father swear on the other side of the door and she fidgeted with her dress as she opened the door, pretending that she only just finished getting dressed. The dress didn't feel right. It made her feel exposed and dirty but she didn't have a choice. Anna was coming over today to watch her while her father was at work and if Anna was coming over, Monet didn't get to pick what she wore. She just had to make sure that it fit Anna's standards of what was okay to wear and what wasn't. Anna was teaching her how to dress properly, no matter how much Monet wanted to just wear jeans and jackets.
"That took you way too long," Timothy huffed angrily, looking Monet up and down to make sure that whatever she was wearing was acceptable for visitors. Monet fidgeted slightly, grabbing the side of her dress in her hand and squeezing it in her hand tightly, trying to release some of her nerves. She wanted to fidget more, to run and hide, to change into her favorite jacket and jeans and hide under her covers and pray that Anna would just leave her alone today. More than that, she wanted her mother. She wanted to hug her mother and cry to her but that wouldn't be possible. So, instead, she wanted to run over to Mark's house and play with him all day. They'd play Minecraft and watch cartoons and if they were good, Rebecca would take them to the park. That's what she wanted. She wanted to live like that instead of playing Anna's games all day.
"Sorry... Sorry, Daddy," Monet said slowly, her voice softer than normal and her gaze dropped to the floor. She saw her father's hand twitch at his side out of the corner of her eyes and she braced for an impact, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. She didn't dare cover her face because she knew that it would just make him madder at her but the longer she waited for him to hit her, the more inclined she felt to protect herself.
The blow never happened. Instead, he only grabbed her hand and tore it away from where it was squeezing the fabric of her dress, roughly smoothing it out again for her.
"Don't look like such a mess for Anna. You know so much better, Monet," Timothy scolded as he tugged her dress down, trying to fix the wrinkles that she had created in her dress. Monet had to resist cringing at the smell of alcohol on his breath. She wanted to say something, to remind him that he shouldn't go to work if his breath smelled like that but she knew better. If she didn't want to be hit then she should remain quiet and only speak when she was spoken too. He seemed to have dressed nice enough so maybe he wasn't drunk. That meant as long as she played it safe and listened to him perfectly, she wouldn't get hit. She just had to be good.
Timothy didn't say anything to her while he helped Monet smooth out her dress so Monet remained quiet, her eyes focused on the one spot on the floor that she knew it was safe to look at. He seemed to be a lot better today, better than most days, and almost like an actual father to her. She wanted to beg him to stay today, to tug at his sleeve and make him say even if it meant that she would have to suffer whatever he would do to her, and yet, she knew that even when he was acting like this, the idea was just pointless. He'd only slap or push her and tell her that she was the only reason he had to work in the first place. She wanted to escape, to go somewhere she would be safe, and she knew that her safe place was Mark's house but there was no way that she would be able to get there now. Anna was coming over. There was no changing that now.
Anna... With her serpent-like green eyes and venomous smile. She reminded Monet of the Jekal robbers from Blaten. They were the robbers that stole silver and gold from homes in the town and hid it far away before turning around and smiling at them, telling them that they hadn't done anything wrong and instead blaming it on them. Or maybe Anna only reminded Monet of a Jekal robber because she showed her how she was one. Maybe Monet really did act like a Jekal robber, doing bad things and then acting like the victim, and Anna was just showing her how she did that. Monet knew that she really shouldn't hate her so much since it was her fault, but it didn't mean that when Anna played her games, Monet stopped feeling used and gross, even though she knew it was her fault. Her guilt was the only thing that was keeping her from telling her father. Maybe if she was better then Timothy could...
Monet didn't hear his voice, she swore, but she did feel the blow. It was a sharp pain, right in her stomach and because she was distracted, she was unprepared. Monet crumbled to the floor, curling up in a ball instantly and covering her face with her arms, desperate to protect it. If this were martial arts, she would have been scolded for spacing out and then given a redo, being told that she needed to do better this time, but this wasn't martial arts and there would be no redo for her here. There was only one chance and she blew it. She blew her only chance to try to be a good and respectful kid for her father today. Her father tried to kick her in the stomach again but it was blocked by her knees so instead, he just kicked her into the wall behind her before stamping down hard on the side of her stomach, mumbling something about disrespectful kids while Monet tried really hard not to cry.
"You listen to me when I speak to you. Do you understand, you little brat?" Timothy hissed at her. Monet let out a small whined, nodding her head softly, though it was still blocked by her arms. She wanted her mother. She wanted to cry out for her but she wouldn't dare try it. After all, if she was being watched by Anna while her father was at work, she would have plenty of time to cry out to her dead mother.
Timothy backed off of her, the look on his face making it clear that he thought he had made himself clear when it came to teaching her a lesson while also conveying a clear message to Monet. If she were to try anything else at this point, he would not hesitate to beat her senseless. As he walked into the kitchen, Monet sat up, watching him disappear behind the door where he was no doubt getting another drink before heading off to work, and Anna would be over. He was leaving her in the hand of Anna again. At that thought, Monet shivered and hugged herself tightly, standing up from the ground and walking over into the living room.
"Daddy?" Monet called softly, just loud enough to be heard from the kitchen. She waited for her father's response, sitting down on the couch and pulling her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. She didn't want to let him know how scared she was but she wasn't sure how to hide it anymore. Timothy grunted from in the kitchen, letting her know that he was listening but she had to be very careful about her next words. "Can..." She paused for a second, trying to build up the courage to ask what she wanted to ask. "Can you tell Anna to take me to Mark's house? He promised me that we'd play together." The Mark thing had been a straight-up lie but she was positive that he wouldn't mind a bit. The less time that Monet had to spend with Anna was honestly for the better. Monet wasn't sure how many more of Anna's games she would be able to play at this point. Timothy never got the chance to respond. Instead, there was a knock at the door. Too late to try to get out of it. Anna was already here and Monet had no chance of escape now. Timothy dumped the rest of his cup of alcohol into the bottle again and put it away, though it was pointless because Anna was going to get it out again, before heading over to open the door for Anna. Monet knew what happened next and she couldn't help but whimper, hiding her face in her knees as he opened the door.
Anna was very nice to her father and Monet started to wonder if Anna made her father play her games with her as well. After all, she seemed like she could do anything she wanted here. Monet didn't look up but she heard them exchange a small conversation and much to her disappointment, but not to her surprise, her father did not tell Anna to let Monet go over to Mark's house. Monet was trapped once again. Then, Timothy left a small kiss on Anna's cheek before leaving the apartment for good. Anna placed her bag down on the table, right where Monet's mother used to sit, and said a small greeting to Monet, her sing-song tune barely helping Monet's panic. Maybe Anna was going to be nicer today. Maybe Monet just needed to do better. Maybe if she tried harder, she would be better and Anna wouldn't play these games with her anymore. Yeah, that was it. Monet just had to do better.
"Alright, let's see. How are you feeling today, Monet?" Anna asked, stalking into the room with that bright, venomous smile of hers. It was the same look that Anna normally had whenever she was about to tell Monet that she had done something wrong. Monet could only flinch when she heard it and looked up, watching Anna sit down next to her. Monet moved to the side, not far enough away to put any real distance between the two of them but enough to make herself feel even just a little bit more comfortable. Anna waited for her to respond while she sat down a wine bottle and two wine glasses down on the coffee table. So the games were going to happen after all. Monet could barely swallow her panic. She felt so sick she thought she might throw up.
"I asked you a question, Monet," Anna said sternly after a minute of silence. She opened the bottle and poured out two glasses of the wine, one that she instantly took and sipped out of. The other one was Monet's. She knew that Anna was going to make her drink it, no matter what kind of excuses or protests that she came up with.
"I wanna go to Mark's," Monet blurted out. Instantly, regret settled in her, a rock dropping in her stomach. She shouldn't have said that but she couldn't help it. She felt panicked like her heart had just jumped into her throat and was beating at ninety miles an hour. She wanted to hide but she couldn't move. She was frozen with fear. Anna just raised an eyebrow at her, leaning back on the couch with her wine glass in her hand, turning on her side like Monet was just another friend she was having a casual conversation with rather than a not-even ten-year-old girl that she was supposed to be watching.
"I'm sure you do but we're not going to Mark's today, are we?" Anna asked, motioning over to the glass on the coffee table, indicating that she wanted Monet to drink it now. Monet froze again. She knew that she should unfold herself and take the cup, drink from it, and be a good girl so that Anna would be nicer to her today, but she was terrified. She couldn't make herself move. "No, instead we're going to play here today. Your daddy did tell me that I was going to watch you all day." Monet let out a whine, hugging her knees tighter. She wasn't afraid to make a noise now that her father was out of the house. She knew Anna was going to punish her anyway so why would she try to hide it anymore. Anna raised another eyebrow at her and motioned with her head toward the glass. "Now be a good girl for me and drink it, okay?"
"But it's gross and..." Monet started to say, inching away from the woman in front of her. Judging from the way that Anna looked, she wasn't taking no for an answer today and if any previous experiences had anything to say about it, Monet knew she would be better off if she just drank the wine. The very drink that made her father hate her so much and the same one that her mother told her to never drink. And yet, whenever Anna came over and they were left alone, Monet always ended up drinking it. With a shiver, Monet let go of her knees and shakily reached a hand out, letting her knees fall down to the couch and letting Anna get a good look at her while she grabbed the wine cup. Once it was in her hand, Monet pulled the cup over to her and quickly took a sip, hoping that it was fast enough that Anna wouldn't get madder at her than she already was. It seemed to work because Anna looked more satisfied but it only lasted a second before she went back to inspecting Monet's body.
The wine was just as disgusting as it always had been and Monet had to restrain herself from vomiting all over to floor when the sickly liquid hit her stomach. She forced herself to continue to sip the wine because Anna always liked to have her finish it by the time the two of them started their games if it could even be called that. Maybe Anna liked the wine because it made things feel funny but Monet wasn't sure because she was distracted by the way that Anna watched her. It made her want to curl up and cry. She couldn't tell what it was but clearly, this game that they were going to play wasn't going to be very fun at all. If only she had done better.
Once her wine was gone, Monet felt sick to her stomach. She reached over to put her wine glass back down on the coffee table and sat back up again, hugging herself tightly to try to stop herself from throwing up. Things didn't feel right but before she could dwell on it too much, Anna tugged at her dress, pulling it up and resting her hand on Monet's thigh gently. Anna's hand felt cold and determined like she already knew what she wanted out of their little game, and Monet let out a delayed whine, though she wasn't sure why because it wasn't like she was shocked by the action.
"Your dress is too short, baby. You shouldn't wear anything that's too short. People are going to want to hurt you for it," Anna chided, running her fingers up and down Monet's thigh. Monet normally would have kicked and struggled but she knew that it was pointless to fight against Anna so she didn't. Instead, she gave up completely, scooting over so that she could lay her back against Anna's chest. Anna pulled her onto her lap, turning so that she could lean against the armrest and lay her legs over the couch, just on the outside of Monet's own, smaller legs. She held out her half drank cup of wine out in front of Monet, indicating that she wanted Monet to drink that as well. Monet took it, her hands shaking as she did and started to drink that cup as well. Anna hummed contently, starting to run her fingers gently through Monet's hair. "You know that's why I'm going to hurt you now, okay baby girl? So that you learn your lesson. You're never going to learn your lesson if you don't know the consequences." She let Monet finish the glass of wine before they finally started the game, her hand falling lower on Monet's body than it should have gone and her fingers knotting themselves into Monet's raven hair.
So that was why she cut all her hair off with craft scissors in Mark's bathroom the next day. She felt gross and disgusting and she couldn't shake those feelings no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't forget how Anna made her feel and she certainly couldn't forget the way that Anna's fingers felt when they were constantly being knotted in her hair while they played their games. And so, Monet did the only thing she could think of and chopped it all off. It didn't matter if she wanted long hair or not. She needed her hair off and she needed it off now.
When Rebecca found her, Monet had gotten scolded but she didn't really care. She just burst into tears, mumbling something about hating people pulling her hair but she couldn't tell the truth. Not when it was her fault that she was constantly in trouble with Anna. She was never good enough for Anna. She never acted the way that she should, never dressed the way and Anna was just teaching her what would happen if she continued to act like that. But it hurt so much. It was her fault and so she had done the only thing that could help her guilty conscious and cut off her hair. That did help enough.
Rebecca sighed and hugged her tightly, maybe figuring that something else was going on other than Monet just impulsively cutting her hair off. So, she sat Monet down on the toilet and helped her cut her hair, trying to save what she could while helping Monet's anxieties about her hair. Monet just hugged herself tightly and cried because all she could hear were the Jekal robbers laughing in the background.