Genesis 2

The departure of Cindy Schultz, the CPS lady, marked the vanishing of the faint hope she had brought into our home. As she drove away, my heart sank. I knew too well what awaited me once she was out of sight. The anger of my foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Toper, would descend upon me with even greater fury.

Almost on cue, Mrs. Toper's façade of sweetness melted away the moment Cindy's car vanished from view. She turned to me, her smile now chilling, her eyes devoid of warmth. "You thought you could talk to strangers about our family, didn't you, Benjamin?"

My words stumbled as I tried to avoid her anger. "N-no, Mama, I didn't say anything."

Her hand struck my face, and she accused me of lying. "Liar!" Her voice dripped with venom.

I bit my lip, holding back tears, knowing that crying would only provoke them further. I followed her into the living room, where Mr. Toper stood, his expression dark and menacing.

He loomed over me, his voice a menacing growl. "You don't ever speak of what happens in this house, Benjamin. Do you understand?"

I nodded vigorously, my voice trembling. "Y-yes, Papa, I won't say anything."

My assurances held no sway. They unleashed their anger upon me, the blows landing without restraint. The pain was excruciating, but I endured it in silence, as I had endured everything else in this house of horrors.

When they were done, they left me bruised and broken on the floor. Their angry whispers and my own stifled sobs were the only sounds that filled the room. The weight of my fear and silence pressed upon me like an unrelenting force.

But as I lay there, battered and defeated, Mrs. Toper returned, a malevolent smile playing on her lips. "Since you seem so eager to talk to strangers, Benjamin, tonight you'll be sleeping in the basement. Perhaps some time alone in the dark will teach you a lesson."

My heart sank even further as the dread of the basement enveloped me. It was a place of darkness and isolation, reserved for the gravest transgressions. I had been there before, and the memories of those nights haunted me.

With a cruel shove, she motioned for me to get up and follow her. My body ached, but I had no choice. I climbed to my feet, each step heavier than the last, and descended into the cold, damp abyss of the basement.

The basement's stairs seemed longer and more daunting with each step. The dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling cast eerie shadows on the cracked concrete floor. The air was stale, and a musty odor filled my nostrils as I descended further into the abyss.

Mrs. Toper followed behind, her cold gaze never leaving me. Her footsteps echoed, and I shivered, both from the chill in the air and the fear that clung to me like a second skin.

At the far end of the basement, a solitary, tattered mattress lay on the floor, devoid of comfort. It was my designated spot for the night, a place of punishment and isolation. Mrs. Toper gestured for me to sit, her sinister smile still in place.

"You'll stay here tonight, Benjamin," she hissed. "Perhaps some time in the dark will teach you not to betray your family."

I dared not speak, my throat constricted by fear and the pain from the earlier assault. With a final, chilling look, she ascended the stairs, leaving me alone in the oppressive darkness.

As the minutes stretched into hours, the basement seemed to close in around me. Every creak and groan of the old house echoed through the walls, filling my ears with dread. I hugged my bruised body, my only source of warmth, and closed my eyes, trying to block out the torment of my reality.

In that suffocating darkness, my thoughts turned to Cindy Schultz's words. "In one month, you'll be attending school again." Memories from the past flooded my mind. The days when I attended school, the relentless bullying, the hurtful names, and the physical pain inflicted by my classmates. I remembered my friend, Mike.

But those memories were bittersweet, carrying with them the recollection of relentless torment. Amid the darkness, I longed for my grandmother, the one source of warmth and kindness in my life. I cried for the first time in months, my sobs echoing in the cold, lonely basement. It felt like I was drowning, suffocating, until exhaustion finally led me to sleep amidst the shadows.