making you stay?”
“Those are the rules. I can’t leave.”
“What will happen if you do leave?”
“I… I don’t know. Something horrible. I don’t want to think about it.”
“It frightens you?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t need to be frightened now, Alice. We’re just remembering. It’s very safe.”
Christy tried to calm herself and managed to do so, thinking about Nancy sitting close by.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now I want you to walk up to the bars and touch them.”
“I can’t.”
“I think you can. They aren’t real. It’s important that you touch them so that you know they can’t hurt you.”
They were just bars. Just iron bars running from the ceiling to the floor.
Christy edged forward, lifted her hand, and placed her fingers on the cold steel. Nothing happened.
“I’m touching the bar.”
“Good. See, it’s going to be all right. Can you see anything else?”
She looked down a long, dark hall that reached into darkness in both directions.
“No. It’s just a dark hall. Like a tunnel.”
“You’re in the basement of a big house that has passageways and a room with bars. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me who owns the house?”
She thought. And she knew.
“A man.”
“Do you know his name?”
Nothing came to her but the dark shadow of what she knew was a man.
“No. I’m sorry… I can’t remember.”
“That’s okay, Alice. Now, I want you to listen very carefully and tell me if you can hear him. Can you do that for me?”
Almost immediately she heard a whisper.
“I hear something!”
“What do you hear?”
The voice became clear, thin and innocent, a girl singing just above a whisper.
“Oh, be careful little eyes what you see.” A sweet giggle sent a chill through Christy’s bones. “Be careful little eyes what you see. For the Father up above is looking down in love, so be careful little eyes what you see.” The little girl’s voice morphed into to a low, guttural, accusing tone on the heels of the song. “Ugly girl. Still too ugly to be seen. Just as ugly as the day you got on your knees and begged for mercy.”
The fear that welled up in Christy’s chest plunged her into a raw panic. She spun, screaming, running for the door, chased by a low chuckle.
Beyond her scream, she could here Nancy’s voice, just barely: “It’s okay, Alice. It’s okay, just take a deep breath. You can come out. It’s okay.”
Christy reached the door and grabbed the knob knowing that it would be locked. She twisted it anyway, awash in dread.
The knob refused to budge.
Fear had closed off her throat and she had to push hard to get words out.
“I’m trapped! I’m trapped!”
“Open the door, Alice. Just open the door.”
“I can’t!” It refused to move. She had the horrible realization that she would be caught in this hellhole forever, and it made her want to rip the skin from her face so that she wouldn’t be so ugly.
“I can’t!”
Something slapped her face. “Wake up, Alice.” Again. “The door’s open, wake up.”
She suddenly became aware that she was back in the office, bent over her knees, sobbing and retching. Nancy was gently stroking her back, comforting her.
“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. You’re here with me. It’s okay.”
Christy caught her breath and forced herself to calm down. A steely resolve slowly began to replace the terrible emotions that had thrown her into hysteria.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. Everything is going to be okay.”
Anger more than resolve. Bitterness.
“That’s better. You see? It’s all okay.”
But Christy wasn’t hearing anything that comforted her, because she now knew some things about herself.
She knew that the room she’d seen was real; she’d been there in the dark days, before she’d turned thirteen. She’d been a victim with a tragic past.
She knew that she really was ugly, inside and out.
And she knew just how deeply she
“Those are the rules. I can’t leave.”
“What will happen if you do leave?”
“I… I don’t know. Something horrible. I don’t want to think about it.”
“It frightens you?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t need to be frightened now, Alice. We’re just remembering. It’s very safe.”
Christy tried to calm herself and managed to do so, thinking about Nancy sitting close by.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now I want you to walk up to the bars and touch them.”
“I can’t.”
“I think you can. They aren’t real. It’s important that you touch them so that you know they can’t hurt you.”
They were just bars. Just iron bars running from the ceiling to the floor.
Christy edged forward, lifted her hand, and placed her fingers on the cold steel. Nothing happened.
“I’m touching the bar.”
“Good. See, it’s going to be all right. Can you see anything else?”
She looked down a long, dark hall that reached into darkness in both directions.
“No. It’s just a dark hall. Like a tunnel.”
“You’re in the basement of a big house that has passageways and a room with bars. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me who owns the house?”
She thought. And she knew.
“A man.”
“Do you know his name?”
Nothing came to her but the dark shadow of what she knew was a man.
“No. I’m sorry… I can’t remember.”
“That’s okay, Alice. Now, I want you to listen very carefully and tell me if you can hear him. Can you do that for me?”
Almost immediately she heard a whisper.
“I hear something!”
“What do you hear?”
The voice became clear, thin and innocent, a girl singing just above a whisper.
“Oh, be careful little eyes what you see.” A sweet giggle sent a chill through Christy’s bones. “Be careful little eyes what you see. For the Father up above is looking down in love, so be careful little eyes what you see.” The little girl’s voice morphed into to a low, guttural, accusing tone on the heels of the song. “Ugly girl. Still too ugly to be seen. Just as ugly as the day you got on your knees and begged for mercy.”
The fear that welled up in Christy’s chest plunged her into a raw panic. She spun, screaming, running for the door, chased by a low chuckle.
Beyond her scream, she could here Nancy’s voice, just barely: “It’s okay, Alice. It’s okay, just take a deep breath. You can come out. It’s okay.”
Christy reached the door and grabbed the knob knowing that it would be locked. She twisted it anyway, awash in dread.
The knob refused to budge.
Fear had closed off her throat and she had to push hard to get words out.
“I’m trapped! I’m trapped!”
“Open the door, Alice. Just open the door.”
“I can’t!” It refused to move. She had the horrible realization that she would be caught in this hellhole forever, and it made her want to rip the skin from her face so that she wouldn’t be so ugly.
“I can’t!”
Something slapped her face. “Wake up, Alice.” Again. “The door’s open, wake up.”
She suddenly became aware that she was back in the office, bent over her knees, sobbing and retching. Nancy was gently stroking her back, comforting her.
“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. You’re here with me. It’s okay.”
Christy caught her breath and forced herself to calm down. A steely resolve slowly began to replace the terrible emotions that had thrown her into hysteria.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. Everything is going to be okay.”
Anger more than resolve. Bitterness.
“That’s better. You see? It’s all okay.”
But Christy wasn’t hearing anything that comforted her, because she now knew some things about herself.
She knew that the room she’d seen was real; she’d been there in the dark days, before she’d turned thirteen. She’d been a victim with a tragic past.
She knew that she really was ugly, inside and out.
And she knew just how deeply she
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