Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Drama

Chapter 14 
 It was 1997, I was only 8 years old when my drunken stepfather convinced my mother to allow his friend, Hank to sleep on our couch. 
Apparently he had fallen on hard times and was desperate for a place to stay. I could hear the muffled arguments behind closed doors leading up to his arrival. 
  They broke the news to us later that evening. My brothers didn’t seem bothered in the least, however I was a bit uneasy with the idea of some strange man sleeping on our couch. Maybe it was due to the fact that I overheard the argument between my parents, or maybe it was the worry in my mother's tone that had me on edge. Either way, I was not pleased by this but voicing my concerns was not allowed. It was considered “talking back” for any of us to question anything my parents did or said, it was best to stay quiet. 
The next morning the sun poured in through my bedroom window, the night before was dreadfully hot and I already knew today would be another scorcher, my hair was wet from sweat and it was stuck to the side of my face as I peeled myself up. I tried to stay in bed a bit longer but the heat was unbearable. I slid quietly out of my bed hoping not to wake anyone. 
Our house was small, and the old wood floors squeaked with every step. They were hidden under carpet that had been there so long that it had now been matted down from years of use. I couldn't even tell you what color it was. 
Typically we were not allowed to get out of our beds until my parents were awake. At only eight years old it was difficult to sleep in, especially when it was already so hot. Not wanting to get into trouble, I decided to play quietly in my room. 
I had a barbie house and a lot of barbies. Back then that was my only escape from the harsh realities of my childhood. Every morning I would get them up and get them ready for their day, and every evening I would put them in their beds and tuck them in. My imagination was the only escape I had. Little did I know, things were about to get worse.  
I was startled by the sound of the front door opening, then closing this early in the morning. Shortly after, I heard voices traveling through the walls of our tiny house. He was here. I felt my stomach tighten, the usual knots I had been accustomed to were exacerbated by the sound of his voice. I only met him one time before about a year earlier. Nothing in particular happened to cause my disdain for him, it was just something I felt deep in my gut. Something about him was just...off. 
  I don’t really know if he was super tall at all now looking back on things, but at the time to a little girl he was just a massive man. I peeked out my door to see him standing in our living room chatting it up with my step dad, he was as thick as he was tall. He wore a dirty t shirt that hung just above the waist of his jeans, a little short for a grown man, I thought. His jeans were light blue and looked as though they were painted on him. A term my mother used when she saw women wearing their pants too tight. For the first ever time that phrase made so much sense to me. 
His hair was dark brown and was long in the front and short in the back, kind of like a backwards mullet. His hair always looked wet, I never understood why until I got older and my hair would look that way if I didn’t shower. Everything about this man made my skin crawl. My dad, on the other hand, welcomed him in with open arms. 
He was clearly very comfortable with him as he stood there in our living room straight out bed wearing nothing but his tighty whities, except they were not as white as they used to be, nor were they as tight as they sagged a bit. 
 Soon the house filled with smoke while they inhaled cigarette after cigarette. With my dad still in his underwear, he got up and started walking towards my door. I panicked, he must have seen me peeking through the little crack. I jumped up so fast and flew into my bed. My heart was pounding so hard I just knew he could hear it as I layed in my bed trying to slow my breathing. I was so still, hoping that he would just go away.  “Mik, I know you’re awake, quit being rude and come out and say hi to Hank”, he barked.
 By now I could feel the sweat on the back of my neck as I tried to hide under my blankets. Feeling cornered, I reluctantly slipped out of the covers and climbed out of bed. 
Because it was so hot last night I slept in only a little Strawberry Shortcake undershirt with matching panties. In my soft voice I announced that I was going to get dressed first. He shouted at me for being rude and demanded I just go say hi. With my head hung low I slowly walked out of my room. 
The air was damp, but cool thanks to the old swamp cooler hanging from our dining room window. It had to be at least ten degrees cooler out there than in my room, but still I would rather burn up in my in there than have to parade around half naked in front of a strange man.   
Hank was now sitting in the chair my mom would often sit in when she drank her coffee and smoked her first cigarette of the morning. It was a goldish, orange colored chair with a floral print that was probably popular in the 70s. We were dirt poor and most of our furniture either from local dumps, or the Goodwill. “Another person’s trash is another person’s treasure”, a phrase my mom often used. 
Hank was so big he filled that chair with all of his being. He turned to see me, slowly plodding my way into the living room. “Well hello there, boy you sure have gotten big since the last time I saw you”, he said with his crooked smile. A few of his teeth were black and broken and he smelled of beer and cigarettes. 
Setting his beer down on the little wooden table, already covered in little rings from previous dinks being sat there, he reached out to me. My heart still pounding I looked over at my dad hoping he would protect me. However, I knew better than that. He was my step dad and there was no love between us. 
Hank grabbed my arm and pulled me up on his lap. I wanted to cry out for my mother, but I knew she resented me and didn’t give two shits. “You sure are a pretty one, aren’t you?” He whispered into my ear while he caressed my back. Everything inside me wanted to run, but I froze. I couldn’t speak, I could hardly breathe, I sat there with his hands on my thigh. My dad and him continued to talk and smoke and drink at eight in the morning. My brothers were still sound asleep and I envied them. I could feel something growing underneath me. I wasn’t sure what he had in his pants that could grow like that, I wanted to scream and jump off of his lap, but instead I just sat there. I was too scared of the trouble I would get in if I disrespected our guest.  
“I have to use the restroom”, I choked out those words so quietly that nobody heard me. I sat there working up the courage to say it a little louder. I cleared my throat then spoke up again…”I need to use the restroom,” I said again a little louder. I felt Hanks grip dig in to my thigh just a little tighter as I tried to wiggle off his lap. He chuckled as if he was just playing with me, then he let me go. 
I slipped off of him, causing my panties to slide up giving me a wedgie. Without skipping a beat he reached down and fixed my panites and then slapped me on the bottom telling me to hurry back. “Bring us another beer while you’re up”, my dad added.  
I ran to the only bathroom in our house, which was oddly located between mine and my parents room. Anyone who needed the bathroom had to come through my room or my parent's room to get to it, and since nobody was allowed in their room, everyone came through mine to get there. 
The door was locked on my end and I could hear the shower running. My mom was up. She would never come out in the morning until she was showered and dressed, it didn’t even matter that we had company, that was just her normal routine.
 I sat there on the floor with one of my barbies waiting for my mom to finish so I could use the bathroom when my dad hollered, “I said bring us our beers, what's taking so long?” I jumped up and ran to the kitchen to gather up the cold Coors cans from the fridge. The cold felt good against my skin as I rushed back into the living room handing them their beers. “What a sweetheart you got here man, gotta let me borrow her sometime.” he joked. Or at least I hoped it was a joke. He pulled me closer and demanded I kiss “Uncle Hank” on the cheek, but he wasn't my uncle. “Don’t be rude Mikalyla, he asked for a kiss dammit,” my dad yelled. Terrified by what my step dad would do, I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach and leaned in to kiss him. I couldn’t bring myself to pucker my lips, so I just pressed them against his cheek really quick and jumped back. With his hand firmly gripped around my wrist, he said softly, “Sweetheart, you don’t gotta be shy around me,” then pulled me closer and planted his lips right on mine and kissed me. Outraged, I pulled away and ran into my room. My dad and him laughed it off as if it was some joke.
 Everything about this felt wrong to me, how can they just laugh. By then, my mother had finished in the bathroom. I could still smell her perfume lingering in the humid air of the bathroom. I slipped in and closed the door behind me feeling relief to he away from him. Sitting on the toilet, my with my panties around my ankles, I cried, grabbing toilet paper to wipe my tears.  
 Before I knew it the door swung open, I was bent over reaching for my panties to pull them up when I saw his face. He pretended to act startled, spouting off that he didn’t know anyone was in here. I was too scared to scream, I just froze. He didn’t close the door, he just stood there watching me as I pulled my panties up, flushed the toilet and washed my hands. I could see the bulge trying to push through his tight pants, innocently thinking that maybe his penis was full because he had to pee. Either way, he gave me the creeps. I could see his reflection in the mirror while I washed my hands. He glared at me and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I turned around and quickly walked passed him and left him alone to do his business. I wanted to get dressed but I was too scared to be in my room with him so close so I ran into the kitchen where I could hear my mom starting breakfast. 
 My mom hated us being in the kitchen and demanded that I go elsewhere. My brothers were finally waking up so I went in their room to tell them that Hank was here already and that he made me sit on his lap. My brothers just laughed at me. If nobody else thought it was a big deal, why did I feel so disgusting? I wandered out and back into my room once I knew that Hank was done in the bathroom. The day went by and before I knew it, it was time for bed. My mom made a bed for Hank on our couch and I was scared to sleep with him so close.   
 Laying there in my bed, tossing and turning, feeling hot and scared I just couldn’t sleep. Suddenly a large shadow stood in my doorway, frozen in fear, I laid there like a statue. I wanted to close my eyes but I was too afraid to even do that. He quietly walked by my bed and went into the bathroom. He didn’t turn on the light, or close the door. He stood in front of the toilet, unzipped his pants and pulled himself out. He must have known I was awake, he stared right at me and began to rub on himself for what seemed like forever, then stuff squished out and landed in the toilet and his head fell back with a slight moan escaping his chest. 
I’ve watched my little brother pee before and it was nothing like that. In that moment I knew he was a monster, I wasn’t even sure he was human. I was burning up hot trapped beneath my blankets afraid to make any move until he left. It felt like an eternity before he stuffed himself back inside his underwear and headed back into his bed on our sofa. After that, I cried myself to sleep. I hoped his stay would be short lived because living like this was an absolute nightmare.   
Sadly for me Hank stayed with us for another few weeks, enduring the same thing every night when everyone was asleep. His last night there, he took it a step further. I woke to him sitting on the edge of my bed, I felt a fast repetitive movement shaking me awake. I cleared my eyes a bit to try and make out what was going on. There he was, sitting next to me fully exposed rubbing on himself while he stared down at me. I wanted to scream, but he covered my mouth with his hand until he started to moan a bit then he got up and ran to the toilet to unload the demons he summoned. That was the only explanation I had for what he was doing every night when the house was asleep. That night I cried myself back to sleep.  
When I woke up that next morning, I saw the blankets and pillow neatly folded on the couch. He was gone, and I was relieved. It was about a week later when I overheard my parents in a heated discussion. Apparently Hank had been recently arrested for indecent exposure, and my mom was furious that my dad allowed him in our house. It wasn’t until years later that I realized just how disturbed this man was. It's memories like this when I realize why I ended up with a man like my husband.