If Only Adoption Was So Easy

She couldn't see them, but she knew her hands were bleeding. She could feel the blood running down her fingers, so she stood with her hands as far out away from herself as the space would allow. Getting thrown in The Chokey was bad enough without getting blood all over the brand new dress Grandma had just given her.

Matty's breathing was the only thing she could hear, and she knew it was much too fast. Her Dad always talked about her breathing when she was upset.

"In 4. Hold 7. Out 8." He would say to her, over and over again.

He never understood how cruel the other girls could be.

"But Dad! Linny said…"

"In 4, hold 7, out 8." He would repeat, talking over her because he was a vicious, hateful man. And while he made her breathe, he would torture her. With words.

"It doesn't matter what they did," he would say. "It matters what you did." And then he would give her a hug and tell her he loved her, before he would talk any more about it.

He always timed his lectures to her breathing, making it all but impossible for her to explain that it did matter what Linny had done, because…

"In 4, hold 7, out 8."

His tone never changed, no matter how long it took for her to finish her exercises. Because he was a hateful monster.

And even though the tiny room was already dark, she closed her eyes.

"In 4, hold 7, out 8." She whispered, then counted silently along with her father’s voice in her mind.

I wonder if he'll finally get angry this time. I would.

Matty knew it really was her fault, and that made it all the worse. She knew she deserved to be here, too terrified to move for fear of impaling herself on one of the sharpened nails or broken glass stuck to the walls.

In 4.

She knew better, she truly did. There was that boy, whatshisname, who stole a slice of Mrs. Turnbull's cake, and then the grizzled old Matron made him eat the whole thing.

Hold 7.

But Matty was an 8 year old girl, for pity's sake! How was she supposed to resist such a delicious looking chocolate cake when she’d only had toast and eggs and sausage and juice and cereal for breakfast? And that had been hours and hours ago!

She sighed.

Stealing a piece of cake had been one thing, but drawing a pig in the frosting on the rest probably hadn't been her best idea. Going back to class without properly washing her hands and face had definitely been a worse one.

Out 8. One.

Matty wondered if she would wind up on the internet for this. Parents seemed to hate disrespectful children more and more, social media accounts full of support for teachers fighting for the right to properly deal with unruly brats. Not every school was fortunate enough to have a Mrs. Turnbull and a Chokey to keep kids in line.

In 4.

Her heart thundered in her ears in the otherwise silent room and she drew another shaky breath as slowly as she could.

Hold 7.

Except the room wasn’t silent. The slow drip of her blood onto the floor couldn’t hide the sudden scraping sound. It reminded her of when she had helped her Dad move the old washing machine out of the basement, except that hadn’t made the floor shake like this.

What if they’re moving something to block me in!?

Out 8. Two.

Matty heard her Dad’s voice in her mind, trying to calm herself and match the pace of his counting.

In 4.

She shook her head at her own silliness. They didn’t need to block her in - there was no way anyone could break the locks on the outside of the door.

Hold 7.

But then what was that scraping sound, and why can I feel it in the floor?

The rumbling hadn’t stopped, and if anything, was getting louder. There were no windows or vents in the Chokey, but Matty thought she felt a wisp of air moving over her face, and nearly sneezed.

“Ow!” She exclaimed, moving carefully away from whatever sharp thing had just poked her in the shoulder. “Ouch, stop!” She exclaimed as her other shoulder suffered the same fate.

And as the grinding continued, Matty’s heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest.

The room is shrinking!

She felt sharp spikes in both of her legs at the same time and screamed in pain.

“Help!” She cried out, still too afraid to move for fear of running into one of the walls. “Help me, please!”

She could feel the tears streaming down her face matching the blood from her hands and, now, her shoulders and legs. She tried to move forward towards where she thought the door was, but her hands found nothing but more agony ahead of her.

“Someone, please help me!” She screamed for all she was worth, her ears ringing from the force of her own voice, her small body trying to hunch in on itself and get even smaller. To get away from the walls closing in around her.

“This is what happens to filthy little thieves!” Mrs. Turnbull’s voice shouted through the door before she laughed cruelly. Matty heard the laughter moving away as the old woman left her to be crushed.

“I’m sorry!” She shrieked, the sharp walls having closed in on all sides and starting to stab into her no matter what she did. “I’m sorry, please! Let me out! Please!”

Matty sobbed, crying all the more as the racks of her small body left her in even more pain.

“Dad! Dad, help me please!” Her throat burned as she screamed. “Dad, where are you!? Dad!”

She wanted to collapse, for it to be over, no matter what. For all of this to just end…

“Dad!”

“I’m here Matty!”

Matty’s eyes flew open, blinking against the sudden brightness of the room.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, and finding herself able to move, flung herself into his arms as she sobbed.

“I’m here Matty. You’re okay.” He said calmly to her as she clung to him, trying to burrow into his chest. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. The steady dripping sound of her blood on the floor had been replaced by the beeping of one of the machines. Her arm twinged from the needle connecting her to a tube and a bag of yet another medicine.

She started to calm as she took in the familiar surroundings, safe in her Dad’s arms. Still trembling in fear, they loosened their grips enough to see each other. He met her eyes calmly, and she knew exactly what came next.

“You’re okay Matty, I’m right here with you.” He made a show of taking a deep, slow, breath as he moved to take her hands in his. “Let’s calm down, okay?”

He watched her patiently, until she nodded her readiness.

His lips opened to start his count, when a voice called from the door. “We doing alright in here Matty? Mr. Stevens?”

Her father answered over his shoulder, his hands squeezing gently before he did. “Just a nightmare Alicia.” Matty saw the corner of his lips tick up. “And how many times am I going to have to ask you to call me Dave?”

The nurse smiled back at them both fondly before her shoes squeaked farther down the hall. Her father turned back to see Matty smiling up at him brightly.

I don't want Dad to be lonely. After.

“I miss my pigtails.” Matty blurted out.

Her Dad looked confused for a second, then sad as he stroked a hand over the smooth skin of her scalp. “Well, at least no one can throw you over a fence by your hair now.” He answered seriously, and she giggled at him. “But I do wish you’d stop reading books that give you nightmares right before it’s time to go to sleep.” He continued, trying to look stern before he gave up and smiled.

He looked away for a second and swiped at the corner of his eye before taking another deep breath.

“Okay Matty,” he took a deep breath and exhaled, watching to see she did as well. “In 4.”