Marcus glared at the big house as the car bumped up the dirt road. Mike had only enough time to see the gleam of the fillet knife as it arched downwards towards his heart. Not giving himself enough time to question his actions, he lunged from his bed.
His heart stopped when he heard the floorboard next to his bed creak and he took a deep breath. When Mike had woken him up for the first time that night, he’d been dead asleep and had forgotten all about his plan to rid himself of the horror that he’d lived through over the last eight months. Wrapping his little fingers around his protection, he prayed that this time he’d have the guts to use it against the bigger man. His six-year-old body began to shake when he heard his bedroom door open slowly. Squeezing his eyes closed one more time, he prayed again that the man had gotten his fill a few hours ago. Which meant that it was Mike moving around. He knew that the bar was just closing now, but since his mother was making extra money on the side by dancing, she wouldn’t be home for at least another hour. When he didn’t hear anything for what seemed like an eternity, he chanced opening his eyes to glance at his Batman alarm clock. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that his mother would come home from the bar soon. When he heard a noise, he hoped it wasn’t Mike, his mother’s latest boyfriend, moving around in the next room. The small two-bedroom apartment was on the ground floor, and everything shook whenever a semi went by too fast.
He could hear cars zip by outside his window on the freeway, which was only a few feet from his back patio.
Closing his eyes only made him think more about the pain, so he kept his eyes focused straight ahead of him in the dark.
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