DISCALIMER: Domestic abuse

Remus kept trying to talk to me. Every day, he would lean against the fence and start babbling away. I didn't really talk back to him, I just kept running my little toy car over the grass and listened to him. One day, though, he started asking me questions.

"Is that the only toy you have?" He asked one day, pity creeping into his voice. I looked up at him and shook my head. "Oh, so is it like your favourite toy?"

I shook my head again.

"Is it the only toy you're allowed to play with outside?"

I shook my head for a third time.

"Then why do you always play with it?"

I stopped running my little car over the grass and traced the inscription on the side. "J.D my son". It was the last thing Mama had given to me before she left. I shook my head again, pulled my hair over the left side of my face a little more and kept running my little car along the grass.

"Did you know that the scientific name for chocolate translates as 'food of the Gods'?"

Okay, where was Remus getting all these weird facts from? I shrugged and rammed my car into the fence before backing it up.

"Why're you doing that?" Remus asked as I rammed my toy car into the fence again. I shrugged and kept ramming my car into the fence.

"Janus! Inside. Now!" Dada called and I knew I was in trouble. I shot Remus a glare and ran inside.

"Yes Dada?" I asked innocently. Dada tapped his foot and crossed his arms, looking very angry.

"Who was that little boy?" He asked in a seemingly calm voice but I knew I would be in trouble, no matter what I said.

"H-He was j-just one o-of the boys from next door." I stuttered. Dada turned to me with a face like thunder.

"Really? Why were you talking to him?" He asked, his voice getting louder.

"I-I-I wasn't talking to him, Dada. I swear. He was just talking to me b-b-but I didn't say anything back."

"You still disobeyed the rules, Janus. You know what happens when you disobey the rules."

I started crying. "I-I-I'm sorry Dada! Please don't hurt me!"

Dada didn't listen. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the basement. The basement was dark, cramped and cobwebby. I hated it down there.

"Dada! Dada! Please don't put me in the basement! I won't talk to him ever again, I promise!" I sobbed.

"I know you won't, Janus. I'll make sure of it." He said before closing the basement door, locking me in the darkness.

***

I don't really know how long I spent in the basement, stroking my hair and muttering to myself, trying to calm down. When it's pitch black, time doesn't have any meaning. I didn't fall asleep but I didn't stay awake either. When you're in the basement, you're in limbo. It's too dark to see anything so sometimes you do wonder if you've fallen asleep. There are no windows, just cobwebs, darkness and dust. Dada pulling me into the basement is the reason Mama left. I wanted to go with her but she said that where she was going, boys were not allowed. She gave me a little yellow car to remind me of her. Sitting in the dark, I run that little car over my leg to try and calm me down.

The only toys I have are the little car and two teddy bears. The teddy bears are locked away in my bedroom at the top of the house. I can't reach them even if I wanted to. So it's just me, alone in the dark with my little toy car.

***

I think it was morning when Dada opened the basement door, letting light filter into the basement. "You can come out now Janus, if you promise to behave and not talk to that boy." I nodded my head rapidly. I hated the basement. I scrabbled up the stairs and into the kitchen so Dada could teach me my lessons for the day. I didn't go outside to my back garden that day. I didn't want to risk seeing Remus and getting into even more trouble. I did see him leaning against the fence after lunch, looking for me, but I ran up into my bedroom before he could see me peeking out of the window.

If there's one thing I hate more than the basement, it's what I look like. Now, you might be wondering how bad a 6-year-old can look and let me tell you that it is bad. Before we moved to Florida, we lived in England. I was about 3 when there was a huge house fire. I don't know how it happened but the whole house just went up in flames. My bedroom was right next to the room the fire had started in and the left side of my face got badly burnt. When we moved here, Dada tried to book me a skin graft but we didn't have enough money. So, it healed over and created a huge mass of scarring. It's all dark and uneven and it feels uncomfortably warm. It reminds me of all the smoke and flames. That's the reason I have long hair. My hair's a pretty odd length, it doesn't grow like other people's. My hair grows in sheets so it's very uneven. Luckily, the side that is longer is the side that covers the left part of my face. Hopefully, one day I'll be able to go outside and not be bullied for what I look like. But I doubt that ever happening. Dada says people are unforgiving and hate people like me. He's just keeping me inside for my own good. And I trust my Dada because if I can't trust Dada, then who can I trust?