MADISON

I get bankrupt. I look at Alison with my mouth practically open. She won. It's the very first time that someone beats me in this game and surprisingly it was a six-year-old. How? I don't have any idea.

"You don't have anything left," she says and I nod.

"You won," I say leaving out a laugh and a big smile appears on her face.

"Now can I buy chocolate?" she asks innocently.

"It's the first time someone beats me. You beat me even though it was your first time playing," I say, "and the only thing you think of is on buying chocolate..."

I put everything back in the box and stand up while she just waits for my answer. "Maybe later," I lie placing the box back in the closet.

The sky outside is painted in beautiful and brilliant orange and pink tones. "Have you look at the sky?" I say opening the door to the small balcony and in less than five seconds she's out with me.

"What's sky?" she asks standing next to me and looking through the bars of the railing.

"That thing above everything," I say pointing with my finger. "The colorful one."

"It's pretty," she says and I nod.

"What color do you like the most?" I ask and she stares at it.

"Purple."

A moment later, I get back into the apartment and go to get a bath ready for her. I make sure the water is in perfect temperature and I put some bubbles on turning the water into white foam. When I get back for her, outside is already dark. Some stars have begun to shine making her stare at them.

"Come with me," I tell her. When we are about to enter the bathroom, her whole body paralyzes and I literally need to drag her to get her to enter. "You are just going to take a bath," I say bending down to help her get her clothes off. Then, I take her in my arms and walk to the bathtub making her hold me stronger from my neck. I look at her and find her eyes fully crystalized.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Water," she replies and then shakes her head. ¿No? Not water. She's afraid. I bite my lip looking at the foam and bend to take a bit of it in my hand. I put it on her leg soaking it. She starts crying, trying her best to move her leg away from my reach.

"Don't cry, it's okay," I tell her trying to take her arms off my neck to put her in the bathtub. She holds me stronger. I give some steps back and put her on the floor. She runs out of the room, crying. I sigh and get out to get her back, but apparently, she's nowhere to be found. "Alison?" I search in the kitchen and nothing, behind the couches and in the balcony. No succes. I hear a sob coming from the closet and when I open the door, I find her on the floor, crying with her legs against her body. She looks at me with fear. I sigh and sit down inside the small closet, right in front of her. I force a smile.

"I was good," she cries with a shivering voice.

"I know," I say touching her foot to make contact. She pulls it closer to her. What I am supposed to say? "It's just a bath to clean you up, it's going to make you smell so good."

She just stares at me, without saying of doing anything, but making sure she stays as far away as she can from me. "Does it scares you?"

"It hurts," she says cleaning the big tears that run out of her eyes.

"It won't hurt you," I tell her. "I am going to be with you the whole time."

"I want daddy," she cries again and I sigh with a lump in my throat.

"I know but if you don't get in there now, it is going to get cold," I say in the most patient way I can and she shakes her head again making me lose it. "It's not an option," I say as if I were giving an order. I feel terrible because the moment I stand up, she does it too.

As soon as we are back in the bathroom, she begins to shiver from the fear. I look at her with pity and then I take off most of my clothes. I get in getting the foam to cover up onto my knees and then I look at her. She's rubbing her hands one against the other one in the most heartbreaking possible way. "Can you see this?" I say sitting down letting the foam to cover me up to my chest. "It's not hurting me. Just as it won't hurt you," she shakes her head again. "Nothing is going to happen."

"I don't like it," she whines.

"If you get in with me, once you are clean we can go buy some chocolate," I say and this time her eyes open widely. "I promise."

She thinks of it for a little while staring at her little feet and then looks at me. "Promise?" she asks and I nod.

"As many as you want," I say and she gulps finally getting closer. This is exactly the way they must do it to get her to let them test her. Obey to get her little reward.

It takes me more time to get her in than what we actually spend taking a bath. I dress her up with one of my shirts that ends up looking like a dress on her. Me, on the other hand, I wear some jeans and a plaid shirt along with the Converse that seem to be the only pair of shoes that I brought.

"We need to get you some shoes," I tell her when I stand her between my legs to comb her hair carefully, like Sarah used to do with me.

"What are shoes?" she asks after a little while.

"They are these," I say showing her one of mine.

"Are they like socks?" she says touching them. "Hard socks?"

"Something like that," I reply. When I am done with her, I go to the bathroom to put on some basic makeup and three minutes later she startles me from behind. "What's that?" she asks when I put on some gloss on my lips. I didn't see her entering the bathroom, her height is just beneath the sink.

"It's called lip gloss," I say closing the little tub and showing it to her.

"What is it for?"

"To literally add a glossy look to your lips," I say frowning my lips to show her and she lets out a giggle. "Do you want to put some on?" she nods with a smile and I bend down to reach her opening the little tub.

"Does it hurt?" she asks when I am about to touch her lips and I shake my head passing the liquid on her lips. "Feels strange," she says touching her lips with her finger.

"You will get used to it," I say winking an eye to her. "You look so pretty," I say showing her reflection in the little mirror of my blush and she nods. She almost looks like an ordinary little girl except for the fact that she's barefoot. And the fact that she has a code tattooed on her wrist that I totally forgot about.

I take out my foundation and take the girl from her hand back to the bed. I sit her on it and then sit down next to her. "Leave it this way," I tell her placing her little hand on my thigh. I put on a considerable amount of foundation on the number five and then frown when I notice that the shade is not even close to hers. I pass my finger over the code spreading the makeup, till it covers it all, leaving just a big and visible oval on her wrist. Then I put her on a pair of my socks and gain the courage to finally leave.

My hands begin sweating right when her foot touches the corridor's carpet. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all. Plus it is impossible for her to reclaim something being her, isn't it? We could go back inside and forced her to go to bed. She wouldn't hesitate, not even for a moment. She will obey, but then, I will be doing exactly the same thing that they have been doing her whole life.

I take a deep breath and force myself to walk to the elevator. I touch the sensor making it automatically light up and it arrives in seconds opening the door widely, fully empty.

The lobby is different from the rest of the building. There's no carpet, just a well-polished and bright floor. There are a few people and some fake plants decorating the place that is quite fancy.

I am about to pull the entrance door when someone decides to push it from outside making me back off suddenly. "I beg your pardon," says when noting my presence, the most handsome boy I have ever seen in my life. I get fully hypnotized by his honey eyes and the almost brown curl that hangs on his forehead. It takes me approximately a minute to notice that he is still holding the door for me. "I am sorry," I foolishly say pulling the girl out.

Outside, the weather is kind of humid. The classic sensation of being on the beach, however, for some reason, it is different from San Francisco's. The city is fully lightened by the big tall buildings, the cars that pass by fast on the street on the other side of the sidewalk and the public lamps. There's a park full of trees in front of the building, and a running track that surrounds it and crosses it from everywhere.

We walk for around five blocks. Alison fully seized to my arm. Even though every time someone passes next to her, not even bothering in looking at her, I repeat each time that they won't hurt her.

We get into a lighted up store that has a big sign outside in which its written 24/7. Inside smells like a mix of coffee and cinnamon deodorant. "Hey you should check on your sister, she's messing up my floor," one worker tells me pointing at Alison. I look at her and her eyes meet me, immediately.

"What's going on?" I ask and she makes a grin.

"My foot hurts," I bend down to reach her and note that on the floor, there are now some little red spots.

I sit her down on the floor and take her left foot. To my surprise, the sock is ripped just in the sole and is red. I take off the sock immediately and look at her sole. She has a little cut right in the center. "It could have been glass," says the same annoying worker behind me. "I really think it's not a good idea to walk barefoot in Los Angeles' streets," he continues making fun of it and I look mad at him. Nobody actually asked you, I think. Luckily he gets what I don't even have to say out loud, he shows me his hands and gets back behind the cash register.

I stand up taking her in my arms and from the little hallway of the drugstore I take a box full of band-aids for kids. They have drawings of smiley faces that if you ask me, are completely useless. Then I take her to the candy's hallway and immediately her face lights up more than I have never seen a child's face do it before. "Choose whichever you want," I say putting her back on the floor and it seems like that magically cures her injury, because she literally runs to the chocolates. Five minutes later, she finally gets back to me with a bag full of Kisses wrapped on their characteristic silver paper.

"Look! They are too many!" she yells showing me the bag.

"You want all of those?" I say smiling and she nods with excitement.

"Are we going to buy them?" she asks when I take the bag and nod taking it to the counter along with the band-aids. Next, to the counter, I find an aisle with nothing more than flip flops. I take a pink pair that fit perfectly on Alison's feet and then place it next to the chocolates.

"Eighteen dollars," the same annoying worker says in a bad mood.

"Are you kidding me? They are a pair of plastic flip flops, some band-aids, and chocolates," I say startled by the amount of money and he shrugs.

"Offer and demand sweetheart," he says showing me the flip flops and a terrible feeling of wanting to punch him right in the face takes over me. "Eighteen dollars," he repeats.

"Madison, you need to give him three pinks and three whites," says Alison talking about the fake Monopoly money while I search for the real one in my pockets. I hand him twenty.

"Thanks for buying on twenty-four seven," he says handing me my shopping bag and my change with a hypocrite smile and I practically outburst it from his hand.

"Fuck off," I say a little louder than what I was planning to, taking Alison's hand again and leaving the store.

We sit down on a bench right outside and I momentarily clean her wound by passing my hand. "We will clean it when we are back," I say putting a band-aid on the wound and fighting with my teeth against the little and extremely resistant plastic that keeps the pair of flip flops together.

"What is fuck off?" she asks innocently and I almost choke for what comes out of her mouth when I finally get to break the little plastic lock.

"Something I definitely shouldn't have said in front of you," I reply putting her the flops on. "You shouldn't be repeating that," I give her a hand to help her get down and she does it giving a little jump.

"Why?"

"Because... good girls... that behave well... shouldn't say it," I make up the excuse as the words leave my mouth and she nods.

"Will daddy get mad?" she asks when we begin to walk again.

"Why?" I ask with the heart in my throat and she just looks at how her feet look with the pink flip flops.

"I don't have socks," she replies and I leave out a giggle of relief.

Everything that could happen when we get back and she is just worried about her "dad" getting mad for her not wearing socks.