The Quiet Game Read online

  “Five”, I mumble and count three in my head.

  He must see how I struggled to keep up cause once he looks back at me he slows down dramatically. We walked in silence for the short walk to my building. When I stop in from of my window I look up and realize the flaw in my little escape plan. I was able to climb out the window but I’m too short and too weak to pull myself up.

  “Elisa?” I turn to face the boy who just walked me home. There is something about the way he said my name, like I have heard him say it before. Something about the way he looks at me, like I seen his eyes watching me before. I am almost certain I have never seen this boy, but I can’t shake this familiar feeling.

  “Do they ever hurt you?”

  I give him a questionable look.

  “Your foster parents? The ones you are with now, do the they ever hurt you?”

  I shake my head, not wanting to use up my last two words. It's true, they never hurt me. That’s why I don’t tell anybody when they spend all the money on alcohol and I don’t get to eat on weekends. On average they are drunk six days a week but they are what people consider “happy drunks”.

  “That's good. So, they just forget to feed you?”

  I shrug and say, “sometimes”. Four

  He slowly nods, like he understands what it's like.

  “You need a lift?” The boy asks and looks up to my window.

  I nod and he grabs the half eaten hot dog from my hand. Before I can protest he sits it on the corner of my windowsill, interlaces his fingers and holds them out to me. I step on his hands with my right foot push myself up, I prop my arms up on the windowsill and swing my leg in, careful not to kick my precious hot dog off. I am almost inside when I lose my balance for a second and start to fall backwards. The boy grabs my ankle with one hand, my lower back with the other and pushes me back up.

  Once I’m in my room I turn back to look down at the boy.

  “Don’t come out here by yourself anymore.” He warns.

  I nod instead of giving him an OK. He looks at me for a few more seconds before turning around and heading back.

  He only takes a step before I rush out the last word for the day.

  “Thanks” Five

  He stops for a second but never turns around again.

  I take my left-over food and close the window. While I’m eating I wonder how he knew I was living with a foster family. Is it that obvious? My clothes are old and worn, definitely hand me downs or thrift store bought. I walked around hungry and by myself at night. I guess it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to assume I’m a foster child.

  The next morning, I wake up with a little headache. Maybe from the cheap beer I drank last night. I’m 12 and woke up hungover. If I had a mother, I’m sure she would be so proud. I head to the bathroom and almost miss it when I walk by my window. I stop and inspect a small package on my windowsill. I push the window up and grab it. It's a plastic tray, one you can buy at a grocery store bakery and it has four large chocolate chip muffins in it. I must be dreaming. I look out the window to all sides but as always, I am alone.

  Chapter Three

  Elisa

  People think that I’m weird or stupid because I don’t talk to anyone. My case worker told me that this is the reason I don’t get adopted. It’s not that I can’t talk, I just choose not to. I do say a word here and there when I need to but I never go over five words a day. It started when another student at school mocked me and asked if I had reached my five-word daily quota yet. Now it’s a game I play in my head, a challenge of sorts. Most of the days I don’t get to five words anymore but I never, ever go over five. My life is even more controlled than the life of an average teenager and it has always been that way for me. If the state says I’m being moved to a new foster family, I have no say-so whatsoever. There is no arguing with anybody. If a foster family tells me what to do, then I better comply, because unlike the average parent they always have the choice to send me away. All they have to do is make a phone call and I am off to another home. In a world where you have no control over anything in your life, I have chosen to control this, my voice.

  Teachers have long given up on trying to make me talk and are now satisfied with me writing everything down. I like sitting in the back of the room, quiet and safe. It's not only the comfort of not being noticed that draws me into dark corners and quiet places, it is also the power that comes with it. People never seem to realize the advantage it gives me, because while everybody else is busy talking, I am busy observing.

  Most fifteen-year-olds spend their days with their friends, talking on the phone, going to parties. They live a care free life because they are blissfully ignorant to the real world around them. I am not. I can see people for what they really are.

  At lunch, I sit in the corner of the cafeteria as far away from everyone else I can get when I see my case worker Deneen walk in. Her being here is either very good or very bad. I slowly wave my hand so she can spot me better. When she finally sees me, she walks over with quick steps and a big smile. As soon as she sits next to me she slams a folder on the table and words start coming out of her almost like a floodgate had just been opened.

  “Oh Elisa, you won’t believe what happened. I have been on the phone and in meetings all morning. I’m so excited for you. It is finally happening. They said they fell in love with you as soon as they saw your picture. She is so nice, the sweetest women and he, he is a lawyer, a lawyer!” She repeats like I didn’t hear her the first time.

  “They live in a big house in an upscale neighborhood not far from here, so you wouldn’t even have to switch schools. Oh Elisa, they are just perfect. I couldn’t believe when they said they were looking for an older girl. You know how rare that is right?”

  She is looking at me questionably like she expects me to do a backflip or something.

  “Are you hearing what I’m saying girl? This is amazing and because he is a lawyer and knows people they can fast track the whole adoption process. Do you understand how good this is?”

  I do understand just fine. This is good, too good and if something seems to be too good to be true, it usually is.

  After school Deneen waits for me in front of my school. I was hoping I could go home first and talk to Brad and Christine, who have been my foster parents for a while. Foster parents I actually like. Having Deneen pick me up and bringing me over there right away is raising another red flag. She drives me to a fancy neighborhood that is fifteen minutes away. I could never get over how some people live. Just ten minutes from here is a neighborhood where people can’t pay for electricity and water. This neighborhood has landscaping and a water fountain at the entrance gate that looks like it cost a few hundred thousand dollars. When we stop in front of one of the nice houses Deneen turns to me and starts straighten out my long blond hair with her fingers.

  “Don’t worry, they are perfectly fine with you not talking”

  She looks so hopeful and relieved, I can tell she is happy for me. I give her a little smile and squeeze her hand.

  “Thank You.” I use up two of my words instead of just one by simply saying ‘thanks’. I don’t plan on saying another word today. I have too much observing to do.

  The door opens and Mr. and Mrs. Coleman are standing hand in hand with big smiles in the door to great us. They are dressed and styled in what I can only describe as proper clothing, looking like they just stepped out of some catalog selling perfume.

  “Hello Elisa, we are so happy to meet you, please come in and sit down.” Mr. Coleman says.

  We follow them to a room that looks like a living room out of showroom. Everything about the Coleman’s and their house is perfect, too perfect. The couch I sit down on is so soft, I think I might melt into the cushion and never get back up. The first 20 minutes they tell me about themselves and ask me questions in between. They carefully form their questions in a way I am able to answer with yes or no. I haven’t said a word yet, choosing to only nod or shake my head in responds. Now the
y are talking to Deneen about legal arrangements. I sit back and look around the room pretended not to pay much attention to them, but of course I do. I did so the whole time we have been here. Mrs. Coleman has not stopped smiling since we got here, her smile seems somewhat rehearsed. Her voice sounds like a songbird, high and smooth. She walks and acts with confidence but when she talks she sometimes seems hesitant like she is scared to say the wrong thing. Scared to disappoint. Mr. Coleman does everything with confidence. He is a guy who is sure of himself in every way, like he has no worries in the world. He is very polite and understanding about everything. Too much so, if you ask me. His smile seems less rehearsed than that of his wife but there is still something off about it. His smile never seems to reach his eyes. I try to just concentrate on his eyes and blur out his smile. Just when I do he looks in my direction. A shiver runs down by spine because all I see are cold, dark eyes staring back at me.

  “Alright then, everything looks good.” Says Deneen “I will tell your foster parents to gather your belongings and bring them by sometime tomorrow. That way you can say goodbye”

  Surprised, I look over to her. No-one has ever tried to adopt me before but I know this is not the way it usually works. This is moving way too fast. Deneen looks at my shocked face and adds with a big smile, “I know this all happening quick, but you are going to love it here.” No, I won’t. I’m thinking but can’t bring myself to say it out loud. What would I tell her anyways? That I don’t want to stay here because I have a bad feeling and he didn’t smile with his eyes.

  Deneen gets up, gathers her papers and heads out leaving me alone with the two people who want to become my parents. When she leaves they both turn to face me.

  “Please call us Robert and Susan, I mean you don’t have to call us anything. If you don’t want to talk, then that is perfectly fine” Susan smiles one of her fake smiles.

  “You must be getting hungry, I am about to cook If you want to help.”

  I nod and follow her in the kitchen. When I walk by Robert he gives me a smile, but this one is neither rehearsed nor cold, it's something else completely. Lust. Bile rises up in my throat. The different smells of the food Susan and I prepare for dinner are not helping. I’m sick to my stomach from worrying alone. I need to get away from this place. I have a feeling that I don’t want to be here, when Susan is not home. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to have any place to go for the rest of the day, which means I should be safe here tonight. In the morning I’ll leave for school and I will not come back.

  The rest of the evening goes by fast. I help in the kitchen and we sit and eat dinner together. They are making small talk while I sit quietly, eating a few bites to appease the Colemans. I help with the dishes afterward and then point to my schoolbag letting them know I need to do my homework. Robert shows me to my room.

  “I’ll come back later and check on you,” he says as he touched my lower back. The touch makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I can’t bring myself to look at him as he leaves the room. I don’t want to see the expression in his face that comes with his promise to check on me later.

  I do my homework at the desk under my window of my pretty new room. I don’t think I have ever been in a room as pretty as this one. The bed seems inviting, huge and fluffy, but I don’t sit on it. I can’t get comfortable here, can’t let down my guard. When I use the bathroom connected to my room I notice another unsettling fact. The door to my bathroom doesn’t have a lock. Neither does my room door, I observe with unease. I look out the window. I’m on the second floor but I could probably make it down without breaking anything. When I try to push the window up, it doesn’t give way even a little. I don’t see anything keeping it from opening, but It feels like it is bolted shut. I come to the dark realization of my situation. I am definitely trapped. It’s getting dark outside now and with each passing second a rock is added to my gut feeling. I’m in trouble. My last chance now is to somehow make it through the house. I open the door as quietly as I can manage and peek my head out the hallway. No one there. On my tiptoes I walk down the hall to the top of the staircase, that’s as far as I make it.

  “Where you going, sweetie?” Robert coaxes, leaning on the doorframe I just passed. I’m about to run down the stairs but he quickly grabs my wrist in an iron hold and pulls me back to my bedroom.

  “Come on, I’ll tuck you in. Susan took a sleeping pill a little while ago so she won’t be bothering us.”

  The bad feeling that has been plaguing me all day, turns into a gut-wrenching fear. My eyes start burning and I know I’m about to cry. When the first tear runs down my cheek he says without any emotion.

  “You can cry all you want sweetie, but you are going to stay quiet.”

  He closes the door behind us and turns to me with an evil smile on his face. He looks smug and proud of himself that he was able to set up this whole thing to get me here.

  His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he roams over my body with them. I’m fully dressed but I feel exposed. He grabs my breast with his free hand and starts squeezing it. I’m not used to people touching me, especially not men and no one has ever touch my breast before. I don’t know if it's the shock or instinct when I push away his hand and start fighting. I try to hit his groin with my knee but only hit his leg. My fighting skills are nonexistent so I randomly move my hands trying to hit or scratch him. My efforts are futile and I ultimately stop after my face explodes in pain. He backhanded me full force and looks like he is about to do so again. There is a vain popped out on his forehead and his hands are balled into first. I can taste blood in my mouth and feel my face swelling up. I start crying so hard, I can barely see, but I can make out enough to tell that there is no remorse in Robert’s expression. I touch my face with one hand and hold my chest protectively with my other.

  “See what happens when you misbehave, now be a good girl and take of your clothes.”

  Chapter Four

  Jaxon

  Iam out the door as soon as I get the call that tells me where she has been moved to. If that fucker Coleman touches her, I will kill him. He might look like a nice guy on the outside but I know exactly what kind of guy he is on the inside. I’ve dealt with enough dirt bags in my life to know he is as dirty as they come. I have seen him at the club before, and knows he has a thing for young girls.

  Ever since I found Elisa again three years ago I have been keeping an eye on her. Making sure she is only placed in good foster homes. So far, it's never been a problem. As soon as any paperwork was started to move her to another foster home, my guy at the CPS called and I had plenty of time to vet the home and make sure she is safe there. This time everything happened so damn fast. I don’t know if I can make it there in time. It’s nine a clock and I might already be too late. I’m sure I leave brake marks when I stop in front of the Colman’s house. I head straight to the back door. Most people leave it open, especially in a nice neighborhood like this and even if its closed its usually easier to kick in. It’s locked but the door has a window so I smash it in and stick my arm through to unlock the door from the inside. There are no lights on anywhere on the first floor, so I head straight up the stairs where I find Coleman. He is coming out of one of the bedrooms breathing heavily. He is dressed but his shirt is unbuttoned and he clearly has a boner hiding under his slacks.

  “Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?” He yells at me accusingly, not knowing what’s about to hit him.

  I don’t answer him, I’m too mad to even get a word out. Anger is filling each fiber of my body and the only thing I can think of is smashing his face in. I close the distance between us in one large stride. His arms fly up in defense but I’m too quick for him. My fist makes contact with his jaw and his head snaps back. I can see his eyes roll back before his body falls back and hits the floor.

  I find her in the corner of the room. She is almost naked, sitting on the floor with her legs drawn up to her chest and her small arms wrapped around them. She
is quiet, not making a single sound but her eyes are wide, scanning the room. Just like she did when she was a little girl, always watching.

  I rush over to her, scanning her shaking body. Her cheek is red and her lip is split open but besides that she looks uninjured. She is still wearing her panties so maybe I’m not too late. I take my Jacket off and put it over her shoulders. I expect her to jerk away at my touch but she just sits there, not moving. She is probably in shock. I don’t think she could remember me from the last time she saw me. I was only 16 then and the last three years haven’t been easy on me.

  Four Years ago

  The place is dirty and smells like someone recently died in here, which is a good possibility. Hunter and I walk through the hallway that leads to two small bedrooms. We look at each other and I can read in his face that he is thinking the same thing that is running thru my mind. This place is a dump. Its perfect. I turn back to the landlord who looks like he hasn’t taken a shower in three weeks. He is leaning against the doorframe of the cockroach infested kitchen.

  “We will take it.” I say a little more enthusiastic that I should be.

  “I’m gonna need one month rent in advance.” He says like he doesn’t think we would be able to pay. I retrieve the stack of money from my back pocket and start counting the five, ten and twenty-dollar bills until I reach $300. I hand it to him and he takes it just to recount it once more. When he is done he stuffs the stack of cash into his pocket and tosses a key at me before turning around and walking out.

  “Rent is due on the first, kiddos.”

  Hunter closes the door and turns around to look at me.

  “Well, we did it. Two teenage kids just got themselves off the street into this upscale apartment, in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town.”

  “Dude, you got a cockroach crawling up your leg,” I say dryly.