The cry of the weak

I have been locked in this room all my life. It's not too bad I suppose.

I have a bathroom, a nice bed; it's pretty big and every once and a while the voice from the vent slides books and paper down.

The hardest part of living here is the man. He's loud and very bossy, he is always telling me how to speak, sit, and eat unlike the woman. She's comforting, she says she was just like me and that it gets better.

The woman taught me many things over the years; she has taught me how to bathe and brush my hair and teeth. She also taught me how to dress myself and simple common knowledge.

The woman is very beautiful. She has long curly, black hair that she always wears in a ponytail that falls down her back, and her skin was a beautiful porcelain complexion, and she has big blue eyes filled with kindness, and with an amazing smile almost always plastered onto her face.

She doesn't come by as often anymore, so she must be very busy.

Suddenly I heard a bang from the air vent, the voice must have sent me another gift, I ran over to the vent and slowly opened it.

It was another book; I'm so excited to read it. I whispered a thank you to the voice before reading the cover which read 'The Mocking bird'.

The door knob rattled and I quickly ran to my bed and hid it under the blanket, I sat down before the door opened wide, showing the very drunk, plump, man full of anger; the woman behind him with fear instead of her usual smile.

"Are you stealing things you little bitch?" The man screamed stalking toward me raising his hand.

The woman ran in between us with her arms raised toward him.

"Don't hit her, she's still learning she doesn't know any better," She cried.

"You're right, I should hit you!" He sputtered yelling, and back handed her making her fall in a clump beside me, he pointed his chubby finger at me.

"Next time that will be you," He spat glassy eyed and walked out with a slam of the door behind him.

I went to her side as she slowly got up holding her hand to her face with tears in her eyes, quickly wiping them away.

She placed a hand on her swollen stomach and took a shallow breath.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"Why are you stealing books, if you would have asked I would have brought them down," She said gently.

"Stealing books?" I questioned my lack of understanding.

"Yes, taking them when they aren't yours," The woman replied.

"I haven't, the voice gives them to me. I thought they were gifts," I told her truthfully.

"What voice?" She asked.

I pointed toward the vent, she walked toward the vent and opened it looking through.

"I'm sorry, I would have never taken them if I knew," I looked down in guilt.

"No, it's not your fault, as I said you haven't learned any better." She placed her hand on my head.

I looked at her stomach, and back at her face.

"Are you," Before I finished she nodded with a small smile on her face.

"Yes, I'm pregnant," She said, rubbing her belly.

"How far along are you?" I asked quietly.

"Three months," She sniffled.

"Is that why you haven't been down in a while?" I asked.

"Yes and Alistair wouldn't allow me," she explained.

"why not?" I asked, upset.

"It's because I'm bonding with you," she trailed off.

"Anyway I should be heading back before he does," She says, turning toward the door.

"Wait, am I not allowed to read anymore?" I asked sadly.

"No you can read, I'll get to the bottom of the voice so don't worry, okay?" She asked.

"I don't want anyone in trouble," I said shyly.

"-And no one will, just relax I'll be back when I can," And with that she left, closing the door behind her.

I stood there for a few seconds wondering if I should have kept that to myself.

As if on cue the vent made a soft 'tink', I once again opened the vent and took out a small piece of folded paper. I unfolded it and read quietly 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you in trouble'.

I looked around for a pen, finding one I uncapped it and began to write; 'why are you giving me stolen books?' I capped the pen and folded the paper back up and placed it into the vent and waited.

I heard a grunt as the voice attempted to get the paper, and then I heard the woman's voice.

"Colby, are you giving the girl books, because your father is furious,"

"Can you blame me, Chloe has been down there our whole lives by herself alone!" the voice, I mean 'Colby' replied.

"You gave her a name, Colby you know the rules, you can't have contact with her until-"

"Until she's eighteen, I know and yes I gave her a name she's a human-being mother." He cut her off speaking solemnly.

"I know that, its just your father he-"

"My father can go to hell," Colby replied angrily.

"You shouldn't talk like that," the woman whispered.

"What did that little shit say?" The man 'Alistair' yelled in his drunken rage a bunch of banging from upstairs and a choking sound came through the vent.

Panicked I held my breath covering my mouth to stay silent, I shouldn't be listening to this but my body won't turn away.

"Alistair stop, stop you're going to kill him," The woman screamed.

A loud sound of a body hitting the floor and I heard him gasp for air.

"Colby," I cried silently, as a soft sob left my lips. His voice echoed out through this empty, dark room.

He whispered something I couldn't quite make out.

Colby's p.o.v

Pushing myself off of the cold wooden floor, my throat was tight from where he grabbed me and pinned me to the wall.

My eyesight was blurry from the lack of air to my brain, realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

Is Chloe okay, or did I make things worse?

I picked up my notebook from school and ripped another page and began writing, 'Are you okay?' I folded the piece of paper three times and dropped it down the air vent, then sat on my bed with my head in my hands as I waited for her reply.

Usually I would talk to her normally but I'm worried about her safety.

About five minutes later I looked down and the paper was placed back into the vent.

I forced my arm to go in as far as I could to pick up the paper again, getting out of the vent and sat at my desk with the paper in hand.

I began unfolding the paper to see what she had said. I wonder if she hates me now.

Flattening it out on the desk it read 'I'm fine are you okay Colby?'

I sighed in relief and began writing back, 'if you're okay, then I'm okay.' I folded the paper up again and dropped it back down.

I took a look in my mirror at my slowly bruising neck, guess I won't be going to school for a couple of weeks.

Things like this have been happening more frequently lately; dad gets drunk and ends up beating me and if it's not me, he tries to beat mom and I end up protecting her.

With her being pregnant I'll do everything I can to protect her and Chloe.

Chloe and I haven't officially met but we have talked since I was six, my parents always told me it was an imaginary friend and that I'll grow out of it, so I gave her a name 'Chloe'.

I wonder what she looks like, I bet she's beautiful, she's so sweet even being stuck in a black room alone she worries about others even though my parents wont let her leave or go outside.

Once in a while I'd buy snacks and I'd drop her down when I can and pick up the garbage when she's finished so she doesn't get caught.

I got up and checked if she replied, she did. I once again picked up the note and read it.

'I'm sorry for eavesdropping.'

I wrote back 'I have nothing to hide, especially from you.' I dropped it back down.

I took a deep breath before checking if she answered again. I picked up the paper and it said 'Why not?'

I guess neither mother nor father said anything about the wedding, regardless of her knowing or not I will get her out of here, we will get out together.

Before I could answer Chloe my mother called up "Dinner," I made my way down the spiral stairs towards the kitchen as my many 'Uncles' sat around the very large table.

There is a seating plan around here dad is at the top of the table as mother is at the end, I'm of course placed beside my drunk father; who is getting ready for another gang fight. Which tends to be the talk of the night, I looked at my mom and thanked her for the meal she made tonight.

"Colby, my boy," My father wrapped a sloppy arm around my shoulder.

"Yes dad?" I answered.

"You're on duty tonight, you hear me?" He slobbered.

"Yeah I hear you," I replied nonchalantly.

"Alistair, please don't send him out there I always worry he's going to end up killed," My mother spoke.

"Shut up, Carolyn, it's not your place to say." My father yelled over the table silencing her.