JANUARY 5, 1997
“WHAT’S WRONG?” CRYING ON MY BED IN THE DARKNESS, I HOOKED MY ARMS AROUND my knees and rocked. “Why are you angry?”
“Because you got your fucking period,” the monster snarled, appearing from darkness in a cloud of smoke. “You’re nine!” His eyes were glowing red. “Why are you getting your fucking period when you’re nine?”
Wake up, Lizzie.
Wake yourself up.
Do it now!
“I’m sorry,” I cried, burying my face in my knees, too afraid to look at his sharp teeth. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s because you’re bad. God is punishing you for being a filthy, little whore.” Stalking toward me, he gripped my face between his hands and glared down at me. “You need to be punished for doing this to me.” He reached for his belt buckle with his other hand. “Tonight, you’re going to learn about how rough it can get, but first, I need you to take this.”
“What is it?” I strangled out, chest heaving, as I tried to remind myself that it was just a dream. I would wake up soon and everything would be better.
“Good girls take their medicine, or they get swollen bellies,” the monster hissed, forcing a small pill into the back of my throat. “You don’t want a swollen belly, do you?”
I shook my head.
“You’re going to take one of these pills every night,” he continued to threaten. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I don’t want to,” I cried, hating the sensation of the pill sliding down the back of my throat. “Please don’t make me take more medicine.”
