Part 11: The Final Punishment.

Once the Whiteman’s were gone, Mr Rowley sent me back out to the crap shack, whispering a threatening “I’ll be out in a few minutes to deal with you.” I felt no fear of the impending punishment, knowing that I would be able to escape from this place soon; Timothy’s words had been running through my head the whole day since he first spoke them, the most repeated was I love you. I had never had anyone tell me they loved me besides Lily and Benny, but never a boy, let alone one in this new place.

As I walked to the crap shack, I heard the bushes shaking from Timothy before he showed himself, smiling and holding a new blanket. I waved him away, pointing to the house, and mouthing the words “later, come back later.” He got the message, and ran back into the bushes, leaving no physical evidence he had ever been there. As I made my way towards the shack, I glanced over at the greenhouse, noticing a small piece of paper stuck on the window. I quickly jogged over to it, and ripped it off the clear glass window, before unfolding it and reading. It was in Mrs Rowley’s handwriting, and was damp and stiff from the cold.

 

Emily,

I know how much you love this greenhouse, so I’m giving it to you.

I’ve told my husband to leave you be, and let you tend to the plants in peace.

Enjoy.

 

I smiled, folding the paper and putting it in my back pocket, before heading into the crap shack, and waiting for Mr Rowley to come and get me. Ever since the encounter with Mrs Rowley in the greenhouse, she had treated me so much better, and this was proof. I felt a feeling of pride suddenly rise within my chest; I was gaining my rights here, after enough time of abuse, I felt I deserved at least this.

I curled up onto my bed and closed my eyes, the cold not feeling so bitter and heartless, and this night with a little more light in it. I sighed deeply, feeling myself relax, and slowly drift into a temporary slumber. I dreamt of sunny days, and hill upon rolling hill of green grass- no walls, no crap shack, no Rowley’s- just freedom.

Before I could imagine anymore, I was pulled from my bed and thrown to the ground, feeling Mr Rowley’s size 10 boot connect with my ribs, air spilling past my lips leaving no air in my chest. I rolled onto my stomach, grasping at my ribs in agony, head spinning, and heart racing. I coughed up a warm liquid that tasted of iron before the next kick came, this time into my hip with enough force to slam me against the wall of the shack.

I reached out, grasping at anything I could to get away, coughing up blood as I went. The world was blurred, as deep cries escaped out of my sore lungs, as my hand found the door. “Where do you think you’re going?!” I heard Mr Rowley scream out, as he grabbed the back of my head, slamming it into the ground, sharp pain shooting to the center of my forehead and nose. I felt warmth run from my nose down my face, leaving a trail as I continued to attempt to get away.

“Go away!” I managed to cough out between cries and blood, forcing myself up onto my hands and knees, coming face to face with Mr Rowley. He lifted me until I was back on my feet, before slapping me across the face, knocking me back onto my bed. I pushed to the farthest corner I could get away from him, screaming as he continued to advance on me. He grabbed me by the neck hard, no air escaping my lips, as he swung me out the door, landing head first onto the cold, hard ground of the dark outside.

I couldn’t move; all I could do was lay there, crying and bleeding, waiting for the final blow. As I heard him come huffing and puffing behind me, I wrapped my hands around my stomach and shut my eyes tight, waiting for his last bout of anger to be gone. “Have you learned yet?! Or do you need some more pu-“a loud, metallic thud echoed through the darkness, cutting Mr Rowley’s sentence short, followed by the sounds of someone falling.

“Emily!” I heard Timothy scream out, the sounds of him running towards me filling the silence. I rolled onto my side, and opened my eyes to see Mr Rowley on the ground, not moving, and Timothy running towards me. I turned onto my back and started coughing up more blood, the dark world blurring again. I felt Timothy kneel beside me and hold my face, his hands were cold and shaking; he wasn’t warm anymore.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry! I should have stayed! I’m so sorry!” He apologized over and over again, only stopping to kiss my forehead or wipe blood from my face. “We’re leaving now, I’m never leaving you here again.” I felt his arms wrap around my sore back and shoulders, lifting me with ease. “Everything hurts...” I choked out, feeling the bruising beginning in my hips and ribs, feeling a sharp pain every time I breathed in.

“My dad’s a doctor Emily,” he was crying, “he can fix you up, and we can leave,” he kissed me again, “and go where you’ll never be hurt again. As I began to feel the brush of bushes and trees pass us, I lost reality, and fell into a deep slumber.