Chương 2: 002

I froze, scanning the room for whoever had spoken. No one was there. I'm not there physically. The voice returned, calm and matter-of-fact. I nearly toppled backward. I'm in your head, just like you're in mine. A pit yawned open in my chest, cold dread spilling through me. Was I going crazy like Dad? Mom always said he started hearing things before she'd got rid of him. Was I next? Sobs built in my throat. I bit down on my hand to smother the sound. Crazy or not, Mom would get angry if she heard me crying.

I didn't want any more bruises. I don't like any part of that. The voice sharpened, cold and dangerous enough to raise goosebumps along my arms. Someone hurting you, kid? No. Well… yes. But she does it a lot. And I'm not supposed to tell anyone. But she was in my head. Maybe that didn't count. Other kids had imaginary friends. They told them everything. I'm not your imaginary friend, she said dryly. But you can absolutely tell me more. Start with who's hurting you. We'll work from there.

There was heat beneath her words, a promise. I tilted my head, confused… but hopeful. I already told you. Maybe she hadn't heard. A deep, weary sigh brushed the inside of my skull. I don't know names. Who is "Mom"? I frowned at the far wall. I don't know her name. She's… she's just Mom. She's always been Mom. A thoughtful hum. Ah. You mean Aman. Guess you're not from Nexus, then. I blinked. Where is Nexus? And what's an aman?

The questions slipped out before I could stop them, but instead of yelling, the woman hummed again. Nexus is a world you apparently don't belong to. My world. And an aman is your female parent. She paused, as if weighing something. You do know what a parent is, right? I huffed, indignant. Of course. That's Mom. She laughed, quick and bright. Alright, alright. No need to get snippy. Just checking. The humor vanished. Back to the important part. She hurts you? I scuffed my shoes against the floor.

Only when I break the rules. This time I talked when she didn't ask me to… But I just wanted to know where my friends are. Sarah was crying and begging to go home. I haven't seen her since. Thinking about it twisted something deep in my chest. I haven't seen any of them. Silence fell, thick, heavy, and simmering with tension. Kid, the voice said at last, I need you to answer a few things for me. And be honest. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

I nodded, even though she couldn't see. What happened the last time you saw each of your friends? That was easy. We met them at the park nearby. Mom invited them over to play. I hesitated. Except she never lets me play with them. When we get home, she takes them to her office to talk… and then they leave. A slow, controlled exhale filled my mind. And when your Mom talks to their parents, what name does she give them? That took more effort. Mom didn't like me listening to her conversations.

She used the belt if she caught me. But I remembered some. She uses different names. A month ago she said her name was Suzie. Then she told someone it was Tracy. With Sarah's mom, she said Brittany. I swallowed. Why is she doing that? Why was the bad feeling in my stomach getting worse? The voice didn't answer. The silence stretched. My dread grew with it. When she didn't speak up again, I broke the silence, each word cautious. I think… something bad is happening.

I glanced toward the window as the click of Mom's lighter drifted in from outside. And I think Mom has something to do with it. Another deep inhale. I think you're right, kid. Her voice hardened. This doesn't sound good. Especially for your friends. You need an adult. You need help. Memories crashed over me, dark rooms, sharp belts, and long hours with no food. I curled inward. You're an adult, I murmured. Do I really have to talk to someone else? Mom gets really mad when I talk to grown-ups.

Her answer came instantly, soft but unyielding, like steel wrapped in cloth. If I were there, I'd already have this handled. A beat. But those kids don't have time for me to find you. You need to do this. Find a trusted adult and bring proof. Does your Mom keep anything about your friends? Names? Dates? Plans? I cracked the door and peered toward Mom's desk, the one where she kept her journal. I think so. I can't read, but she writes in a book. And she hides it when I'm around.

Yeah, the woman said, voice turning hard again. That's probably your proof. Take it and run. Get far away. You got anyone you trust? I bit my lip, thinking of the nice police officer who always waved during his patrols. People say you should go to the police when there's danger… but Mom says they're pigs. That they hurt boys who tattle. Her tone went glacial. She's lying. She doesn't want you telling anyone. Go to that officer. Bring the book and-. Her voice flickered. Panic exploded in my chest. Wait, please!

Don't go! I don't want to be alone anymore! The connection crackled, her words fading to static. Terror clawed up my throat. Please! I begged, reaching for nothing. Don't leave yet! The voice steadied, distant, but there. Easy, kid. I'll try to figure this link thing out and get back to you. Until then, be careful. Wait! Tears streamed down my face as I choked out, What's your name?! A whisper came back, nearly lost to the static. Name's Karma. And don't you forget it.