This chapter is dedicated to GirlOfRead for her support and many comments :)

 Nightmares

The dark shadow is slowly coming closer. I am scared, I mean really really scared and want to run away but my legs are not under my command. I try to scream but no sound escapes my mouth. My heart is racing and something warm is running down my legs. Daddy will be mad, I peed in my pants again.

I can't worry about my father for the moment since the dark shadow has almost reached me. It's a man with a hood and I know what's underneath. I have seen him before. He has no face, just menacing glowing eyes. Eyes just like my dad's, burning the same way his do when he is angry. I try to get up but my stupid legs are wobbly. I take a couple of steps and fall down again. The man laughs - wickedly.

Every step he takes is in slow motion, making me tremble with fear. I want him to go away and leave me alone. He will hurt me, just like my daddy, I am certain of it. He looks too scary to do anything else. He is mean.

He is almost by my side and with one last ditched effort, I open my mouth. A low holler finally builds up all the way in the back of my throat and I work hard to push it out. It sounds like a low squeaking but it is better than nothing. The man bends forward, his hand extended to grab me by my neck. I feel his fingers graze my skin, a gurgling sound somewhere in the distant.

With a startle, I wake up. My PJs are drenched in sweat and pee, I feel sticky. My hair is glued to my forehead and tears streak down my cheeks. I am still shivering but slowly calm down. It was just a dream, a terrible dream and I shudder. It felt so real.

I look at the monkey sitting in the corner next to my pillow with a foolish smirk. My mom got him for me as replacement for Bobby but I don't like him. I haven't even named him, the loss of my friend still too fresh in my mind. The new toy looks evil, his glassy eyes reminding me of Bobby's dead face. I sob at the memory.

I listen to sounds in the dark but luckily, my cry didn't wake up my dad. If he knew I wetted my bed again, he would rub my nose in it. It is absolutely disgusting and makes me sick. Every night, I pray to God to allow me only one night without a bad dream. Sometimes he listens but usually, he doesn't. This is the third time this week I have peed in my sleep and so far, I only went to school twice so there are many more nights to go.

I slide out of my bed and peel off my PJs. My hands are slightly shaking and my eyes dart around the room, halfway expecting to either see my father or the man with the hood. I still haven't made up my mind which would be worse. The light from the full moon covers my surroundings in a dim, mysterious glow – at least it is not as dark as usual. I am scared of the darkness but my dad does not allow the nightlight by my bed since I turned four.

'It's for sissies,' he said.

I pull on the sheets to get them off. I need to clean up the mess or there would be trouble. Yesterday, I woke up my mom but I still got a spanking in the morning when my father found out. If I get the dirty bedspreads down to the washing machine, I might have a chance to get away with it without him knowing.

I tear on the corners with all my strength until I hear the fabric ripping.

"Shit," I mumble, just to clutch my hand over my mouth. It's a bad word I am not supposed to mutter, my dad would wash out my mouth with soap if he caught me. The stupid monkey has fallen over and I take him and throw him into the corner with all my might. Tears run down my face – he will never replace Bobby. He is useless and just in the way.

I finally get the sheet off but the comforter is wet as well. This would be a real problem since I don't know how to clean it. If my dad smelled the urine, he would know that I had an accident in bed without telling him which would get him furious. For a moment, I consider just fessing up and wake him but decide against it. The thought of my punishment is terrifying.

 I slide into my bathrobe and roll the sheet into a ball. On my tiptoes, I walk to the door and crack it open a bit – the house is totally silent and dark. I hesitate, unsure if there could be monsters out there to chase me.

My heart is pounding in my throat and there is sweat on my upper lip. I glance at my parent's bedroom door just a few steps away – they could protect me from the monsters. Yet when I weigh my options, I choose to continue without waking them. The monsters are just a maybe while my father's reprimand is certain. I am willing to take a chance.

I hush quietly along the corridor and get to the top of the stairs. The reception is lying below in total darkness. The moon is on the other side of the house and I can't see a thing. There is a cracking sound which makes me jump and stumble, the steps racing towards me. Just before I plunge down the staircase, my fingers get a hold of the bannister and I fall hard on my knees, my head hitting against the metal. A warm sticky sensation is running down my eye and I begin to cry in pain and fear.

The light comes on and my mom is rushing towards me.

"Oh, my God, honey, did you get hurt?"

I stretch out my arms and she pulls me into a hug, rocking me gently back and forth.

"Don't cry, Brent. Mommy is here."

My father appears behind her, still dazed from his sleep.

"What happened?" he asks, rubbing his eyes, yawning.

"Brent fell and got hurt. It is only a small cut - I don't think he needs stitches."

She closely observes my forehead, concern in her grayish green eyes.

"What was he doing out of bed?" My dad's frown sends cold chills down my spine, he is moments away from figuring out I was bad.

My mother pulls me closer, trying to protect me when his eyes fall onto the bed sheets.

"Please, Ryan, he has been punished enough."

His eyes darken. "He soiled his bed again," he yells. "Every single night, it's the same. He is a total wimp, scared of who knows what and you are making excuses for him."

He grabs the collar of my bathrobe but my mom his holding on to me tightly.

"Please, he is hurting..."

My father slaps her hard in the mouth. "I am warning you, Charlotte, let go of him."

Her lips are full of blood as she releases me and my dad drags me down the hallway. I howl in fear, unable to fight him, tears streaming from my eyes.

He pushes me into the bathroom and tosses me against the wall, the impact temporarily knocking the wind out of me. I am scared beyond belief and focus on my heartbeat which seems to be getting louder and louder.

The water in the shower is turned on and the room fills with steam. My teeth are clattering despite the increasing warmth and it feels like something heavy is pressing on my chest. My dad tears the bathrobe off me and pushes me into the stall.

I holler in pain as the hot water scorches my skin and pound with my small fists against the glass of the door. My father keeps me securely locked inside, his eyes glowing the same way as the ones of the hooded man earlier.

"You are a worthless piece of shit, Brent, nothing more than a coward. You have no self-respect, peeing on yourself like that. You should be ashamed of yourself."

His words are muffled by my piercing scream, the pain continuing to roar through my quivering body. I sink to the floor of the shower stall when my legs give up.

The door opens and my father pulls me out, pushing me face down onto the ground. His foot comes to rest on my aching back while he rummages in the shower. My head almost bursts open when he lifts me up by my hair and forces me back on my feet. A shove and I am back under the water.

I squeal, this time more in fear since the water pelting down on me is freezing cold. My body begins to shiver uncontrollably as my torment continues and my teeth hit hard against each other. I grasp for air like a fish on land.

At some point, I curl up, hugging my knees while the water gushes down without pity until I am all frozen on the inside. When my dad pulls me out, I am numb and can't feel my arms and legs. My finger tips are blue though my skin is still reddened from the burning water.

My mother is crouched into a corner, her one eye swollen shut, blood still fresh on her lips. She is sobbing silently and I know he hurt her because of me. I am upset that all this is my fault. If I had been good, none of this would have happened.

"Take care of the little shit," my dad growls, his eyes still holding a vicious sparkle. One wrong move or whining on my part will make him get the belt.

My mom wraps a towel around me and hushes quietly in my ear. "I got you, honey. Everything will be OK. Just please, don't cry."

I bite my lip and suppress bravely my tears, my father's glare enough of a warning. I am so cold and the thick cotton towel is soft and comforting. When my teeth stop clattering, my dad finally leaves the bathroom and my mother begins to hum softly to me.

I snuggle against her, totally exhausted and almost manage to drift off to sleep when my father returns.

"Come with me, Brent."

I hesitate and don't want to leave my mother's safe embrace but his face is stern. With my eyes glued to the floor, I follow him down the hallway. I am still naked, the night temperature in the house chilling and goosebumps rise on my body. When we get to my room, I notice with surprise that my bed has been stripped of its mattress, my pillow and comforter deposited in a corner on the floor.

"You will sleep down there until you have learned not to wet your bed at night. I am tired of your messes and the constant smell of urine."

I am afraid to look at him. "Yes, sir." The words are muttered with utter respect.

The floor is hard and cold, my raw skin almost immediately sticking to the wooden boards. I cuddle under the blankets with my jaw clenched, tears flooding my eyes. I feel like Poppy, our last dog, banned from the comfort of my bed for misbehaving.

My father turns off the light and to my horror I realize that the curtains are drawn. It is pitch black.

"Daddy," I whine. "Please, I want to see the moon."

His silhouette pauses in the doorway. "Stop being such a wuzz, Brent. There is nothing to be afraid of in the dark."

A tear runs down to my cheek to my ear, tickling me and I quickly wipe it away. He doesn't understand – there are monsters and other horrible things and of course the man with the hood.

"Please, I'm scared." I am uncertain if the words are even spoken aloud or just for my own benefit in my mind. My dad would not approve under any circumstances – he hates that I am so weak.

The door is banged shut. I twitch around but no matter what I do, the hard floor hurts and the darkness frightens me. I stare gloomily into the emptiness, chewing my lip until it bleeds. I don't want to close my eyes and wait patiently for morning to come, listening to my heartbeat and counting over and over again to thirty in my mind. I feel desperately alone and at some point during the night, I even wish for that stupid monkey.

Thanks for reading. This was the last chapter with Brent being a little boy, in the next chapter, we will jump ahead by about seven years. These two chapters are a glimpse of the discipline the suffered at the hands of his father - yet both were very traumatic events.

Please comment and let me know what you think - is he still the monster you saw or is there a different side of him. I would also be thrilled if you vote if this chapter deserved it.