Marked

The tears stopped coming eventually. She used to cry all the time; cold hard sobs of despair. I used to sit with my back to the wall of the room next to mine and hold my hand against the crumbly plaster. Anything to feel close to her. Anything to comfort her, no matter how insignificant the action.

I knew she couldn’t hear me, or see me, or feel me, but she was my mummy. I wanted her to smile and laugh like she used to when we baked shortbread.

When the tears had stopped and Mummy had cried herself to sleep, I looked around the cold, dark room and out of the window at the streetlights below.

The lights indoors went out a while ago. Daddy didn’t like the lights on. It was cold, too. I could see my breath as I watched out of the window as the rain fell. The heating was broken too. The radiator hissed at me, making me jump, and I crawled across the floor to my bed. I wanted my mummy. I knew she was afraid and I was too. I hid under the covers when I heard Daddy’s heavy work boots on the floor outside my room. My door opened so I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want him to come in.

Fucking kids, he said. You’re the poison of the earth.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t want to be poison. I didn’t want to be a kid anymore. I didn’t want to poison my mummy.

Daddy shut the door and I listened to his boots on the floor as he walked to the front door and it opened and closed. Quiet. No sound. Daddy was gone.

I climbed out of bed and used my hands to find the door. I opened it and sneaked into Mummy’s room. I couldn’t see her, but I heard her move.

Come here, angel.

I crossed the room and climbed in bed with her. She hugged me tightly and I felt her chest shaking. She was crying.

I’m sorry, Mummy. I snuggled closer and stroked her bumpy face.

What for, precious?

I didn’t mean to make you cry.

Oh. She laughed a little bit. You didn’t. I love you so much that it makes me teary sometimes. Good tears, angel. Good tears.

She squeezed me again and squeaked. I think she was hurt.

Daddy’s a good man, she whispered. Sometimes when men get angry, they make mistakes. He doesn’t mean it.

I didn’t want to be a man. I didn’t want to be a poisonous kid and I didn’t want to be an angry grown-up. I didn’t know what I could be instead.

Mummy started singing to me – the song she always sang about the hunter who fed the poor children and saved them from the angry bear. When I was nearly sleeping, Mummy got us out of bed and carried me back to my room.

Daddy didn’t like it when me and Mummy cuddled.

Daddy didn’t come back last night. I got up in the morning and made some breakfast. I took it to Mummy’s room on a tray and sat next to her to eat it while she stayed sleeping. She was always tired when she’d been crying.

The cereal wasn’t crunchy anymore. It was hard and I think Daddy put yoghurt in the milk bottle because it was lumpy and tasted funny. I screwed my face up.

What’s wrong, angel? Mummy asked, waking up.

I shrugged. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t like my breakfast. Daddy told me off when I was ungrateful. Mummy looked at my cereal, made a "yuck" sound and took the bowl from me.

We don’t want to eat that, Benny Boy. She got out of bed slowly, making a hissing sound like a snake when she stood up. The room was still dark and Mummy kept her back to me until she was dressed. She wrapped a pink scarf around her head like the maiden in the story she used to read to me at bedtime, before Daddy ripped the book up.

Shall we go get some proper breakfast? She held my hand and helped me off the bed. Let’s get you washed and dressed.

I liked it when Mummy got me washed and put fresh clothes on me. I felt clean, like a superhero. Mummy held my hand and we left home, crossed the road to the row of shops and went to the park near the lake.

Wait here, Mummy said, sitting me on the ground near the bush where roses grew. I’ll go get us a nice breakfast and we can eat in the sun.

I couldn’t see Mummy’s eyes through her sunglasses, but she smiled at me and kissed my head before she left the park. Mummy said she had a friend who helped her when we were hungry. He had a house near the shops and gave her money for food if she went to him and asked him nicely. Don’t ever forget to say please and thank you, she always told me. We had to be polite.

I picked the green grass around where I was sitting and smelled the pink roses while I waited. I yawned. My tummy was hungry and it made me tired. I was thirsty, too. My tongue kept getting stuck to the top of my mouth and it made me laugh.

I was playing with my hands, pretending they were airplanes when Mummy came back with a plastic bag of shopping.

Good boy, angel. She smiled and sat down with me. I got pancakes and sponge cake.

Yummy!

Mummy tipped the bag over and the food fell on the grass. We smiled at each other, Mummy said grace and told me to eat up.

When my tummy was full up and popped out, Mummy leaned against the tree and sat me on her lap to cuddle me.

Sleep, angel, she said and stroked my hair. We’re safe here.

I closed my eyes, cuddled my mummy and went to sleep.

Your mummy is a whore, Benton.

Daddy was sitting on his chair in the corner with his drink. I was in the other corner playing with my cars. I looked at him but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what a whore was.

Just remember that, son.

I looked at Mummy, but she was looking at Daddy, and she looked sad again. She always looked sad when he told me things about her. I didn’t want Daddy to upset my mummy. She was beautiful like a princess when she smiled, but Daddy always took the smile away.

Come on, angel. Bed time. Mummy stood up from the floor – only Daddy was allowed to use the chairs – and held out her hand. I ran to her and cuddled her legs. You’ve got school in the morning.

I said goodnight to Daddy, but he made a grunting sound and told Mummy to get me out of his sight.

What are you going to do, Mummy? I asked as she tucked me in. She looked at me like she didn’t understand. When I’m in bed, what are you going to do?

She smiled a small smile. The smile she saved just for me.

I’m going to make sure you’ve got clean uniform for the morning, and then I’m going to look for a holiday. Would you like to go on holiday, angel?

I nodded quickly and made my hands fly like airplanes.

Far, far away?

Mummy laughed quietly.

Yes. Far, far away. Just you and me. She tucked the blanket around me and stroked my cheek. We can have ice cream and soda and swim in the sea.

Yes please! Mummy shushed me with her finger on her lips and told me to whisper. I did. Yes please.

It’s our secret for now. Can you keep a secret? I nodded again. I kept lots of secrets. It was my superpower. Good. Now go to sleep, precious. I’ll be just outside.

Mummy kissed the end of my nose and closed my door when she left.

What did you do at the weekend, Benny?

My teacher, Ms Field, took me out of class again to hear about my weekend at home. She started doing that a little while ago, when Mummy dropped me at the gates because it was a scarf and sunglasses day. I didn’t mind going into school by myself. I liked being outside and watching the other children play, and Mummy always stood at the gates and waved to me before I went into the classroom.

Me and Mummy went to the park, I said. We had pancakes and cake and fed the ducks.

Did you have fun?

Yes! I smiled a big smile and wondered if Mummy was still looking at holidays.

Good. Ms Field got out my library book. Shall we do some reading?

I nodded and turned to the first page. Ms Field put her finger on the first word and told me to start at the beginning.

I sat at my table with my book bag and the picture I painted, and all the other children left first. Mummy was late sometimes if she had to do something, or had to go and ask her friend for some dinner for us. I didn’t mind. Ms Field read me stories and sometimes gave me juice and biscuits. I liked her biscuits – they were crunchy. The ones at home were soft and made me thirsty.

Is Mummy working today, Benny? she asked sitting down with me.

I shrugged. That was one of our secrets. I wasn’t allowed to talk about my mummy’s job. Daddy said the teachers could take me away and I wanted to stay with Mummy.

What about Daddy? She looked at her watch.

Somebody made a cough sound at the door and we looked over. Daddy had come to get me.

Sorry, he said. There was an accident and I had to take a diversion.

It’s not a problem, Mr Wright.

Ms Field stood up and I did too. I didn’t want to go with Daddy but I couldn’t tell her that. Daddy looked angry. He took my hand.

He wasn’t any trouble, was he?

Not at all. Ms Field ruffled my hair. He’s a pleasure to teach.

Good. Say goodbye, Benton.

I waved goodbye and we left the classroom to find Daddy’s car.

The house was dark, smelly and quiet when we got home.

Where’s Mummy? I asked.

Out being a whore. Daddy threw some biscuits at me and put a cup of water on the table. Sit and eat.

He left the kitchen and I heard the squeak of his chair when he sat down. I sat at the table and ate my dinner.

I stayed at the table and watched the hands of the clock on the wall until Mummy came home and it was dark outside the kitchen window.

What are you doing, angel?

Mummy looked sad. She had a big bottom lip and her black makeup dripped off her chin. She looked like she’d been standing in the rain and I wished Daddy had gone to pick her up.

Are you done being a whore? I asked.

Daddy laughed from the living room. Mummy cried and pulled her cardigan tight around her.

No, angel. She stroked my face. You mustn’t say that word again, okay?

We don’t lie, Mary, Daddy said coming into the room to get another bottle of drink from the cupboard. Of course you can say it, Benton.

I nodded at Daddy but smiled at Mummy when he wasn’t looking. I wouldn’t say it again. I wouldn’t make my mummy cry.

Come on, angel. Mummy helped me from the table and picked up my book bag. Bath and bed.

I love you, Mummy, I said as she washed my hair and laughed when the water ran down my face and I shook my head.

I love you too, precious. She smiled. Lots and lots.

Did you find a holiday? Mummy shushed me and nodded. Is Daddy coming with us?

Mummy shook her head and told me to be quiet. Daddy couldn’t know we were going on an airplane to the seaside. I nodded my head and Mummy picked up the sponge. I was excited. Ice cream, soda and my mummy. I wanted to go now.

Mummy wasn’t home on Saturday morning. Daddy was out, too. I made myself some breakfast and took it to the living room to listen to the people outside. It was too quiet and I didn’t like the quiet. It meant something was wrong. I sat on Daddy’s chair and crossed my legs like we had to at school.

I finished my storybook and waited for Mummy to come home.

I wanted to watch cartoons on TV.

I stood up and switched the plug so the TV came on. Saturday morning cartoons were the best. The kids at school said so. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV, it was for Daddy’s sports and music, but I could watch it when he wasn’t here. I sat on my cushion on the floor and watched the children on adventures and tried to learn Spanish with them.

"I’m the map, I’m the map..."

I was singing and clapping my hands when the girl called for her map and told me to sing along too. I liked the girl. She was my friend.

What are you doing?

I jumped and it made my skin tingly.

Sorry, Daddy.

I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see how angry he was.

Do you pay for the TV, Benton? I shook my head. Did I give you permission to watch this shit? I shook my head again and looked down at the floor. Answer me, boy.

No, Daddy.

Daddy grabbed my hair and threw me away. He turned the TV off and I sat back against the wall to move out of his way.

Don’t you dare touch things that aren’t yours.

He smacked my face and it made my eyes water. My cheek felt hot and it was stinging.

You need to be taught a lesson, Benton.

He smacked me again. My chin wobbled and my eyes turned blurry. I curled up and covered my face with my arms when Daddy kept hitting me. I whispered for him to stop and told him I was sorry, but he didn’t listen. I peeked through the gap in my arms when he stopped hitting me, and saw him pulling his belt out of the loops.

Please, Daddy, I cried. I won't watch TV again.

He wasn’t listening. His eyes were big and his face and neck were red. He was really angry. I was really sorry. I shouldn’t have watched the cartoons.

His arm lifted up and I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want him to hurt me.

No!

I heard Mummy’s voice and opened my eyes. She was climbing on Daddy and trying to pull the belt away from him. He stumbled and flipped Mummy over. Her back hit the floor and she bounced back up.

Benny, go to your room.

She always said that when Daddy had her held down. But this time Daddy stopped me with his angry eyes and I couldn’t move.

Don’t you go anywhere, Benton, Daddy said. Watch what happens when you touch things that aren’t yours. Just like Mummy does.

Daddy hit Mummy in the face. I watched because he told me to. I watched because I wanted him to stop hurting my mummy. I thought maybe if I did as I was told, he would stop. But he didn’t. He kept hitting her, until she was wet and red and I couldn’t see her face anymore. Her hands tried to push Daddy away, but he was too big and strong. He hit her everywhere. I didn’t know enough numbers to count how many times. She looked at me and held her hand out. I held it back and tried not to cry. I had to be brave for Mummy so I could make her feel better when Daddy let her go. He hit her until she wasn’t moving anymore then he hit her one more time and Mummy stopped holding my hand. She was looking at me, but not properly. Her eyes were open but they looked different.

Daddy. I whispered, still looking at Mummy.

This is your fault, he said, standing up. Go to your room.

But-

Now!

I let go of Mummy and ran to my room. I climbed under my bed and laid on the floor. I could cry now. No one could see me under here.

Mummy didn’t come and get me. I stayed under the bed waiting for her, but she didn’t come. The house was quiet for a long time, and I tried not to make a sound. I didn’t want Daddy to come for me. I wanted my mummy. I heard Daddy moving around the house, crashing things together and saying the bad words Mummy had told me not to say. I stayed under the bed and waited until my bedroom door opened and I saw Daddy’s boots on the floor.

Get out, he said. He was still angry.

I didn’t want to get out. I was scared he would tell me off, but I knew he would be angrier if I didn’t do as I was told.

I crawled out from under the bed slowly and waited while he moved around my room, putting things in a black rubbish bag. I didn’t want him to throw my clothes away, but Daddy was in charge. He was the boss.

This is your fault, Benton, he said again. I won't ever let you forget that. Do you understand?

Yes, Daddy. I nodded quickly, but he couldn’t see me. He was still picking my clothes up off the floor and putting them in the bag. Where’s Mummy?

He was angry when he looked at me. His nose got wider and his eyes got smaller as he stared at me.

Your fault, you poisonous little shit. He scratched his head. What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?

I didn’t understand the question. I lifted my shoulders.

Get your shoes on.

Daddy left my room and I found my shoes, looking for the L and R Mummy had drawn on them so I knew which feet they went on. I sat on my bed and waited for Daddy to come back.

I was sitting against the wall on the bed when he came in and grabbed my arm. I looked for Mummy as Daddy dragged me out of our house, but I couldn’t see her. All the doors were closed and I couldn’t hear her crying like she usually did. Daddy put me in the back of the car next to some black bags and I put my seatbelt on. He didn’t talk to me as he drove away. I looked out of the window hoping Mummy would be there, but all the lights were off and I couldn’t see her. Maybe she ran away. Maybe she went on holiday.  I didn’t mind if she went without me. I didn’t mind if it made her smile.

Daddy stopped the car at the bridge and got out. I looked to see what he was doing but he had opened the boot and I couldn’t see past it. I sat still and faced the front, afraid that Daddy would tell me off for snooping if he caught me trying to see what he was doing. I heard a loud splash, followed by a long quiet, and then Daddy got back in the car and we drove away.

Women don’t deserve our respect, Benton, he said. They’re nothing but filthy whores.

I don’t know, Daddy.

I didn’t understand what he meant. Daddy always called Mummy a whore, but I didn’t know what it was. He laughed whenever I asked him and Mummy cried whenever I asked her. It wasn’t a nice word and I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to be bad. I didn’t want to make anyone, especially my mummy, sad.

One day you will, boy, and you’ll see that women are worthless. Only good for one thing. Daddy looked at me in the mirror and I looked away. Keeping their mouths shut and their legs open.

I kept looking out of the window as houses flew by.

Go to sleep.

I nodded and closed my eyes.

How do you feel now? Is my story entertaining you? The poor little boy, a neglected innocent, left unprotected by his mother, and neglected by his father.

I was just a child when my father stole my mother from me. I was no longer her angel. She was gone, her body at the bottom of the river, never to be discovered.

No one was looking for her; nobody knew she was missing. No one knew my father had taken me. No one knew we existed.

He took us north that night. He shaved my hair off and he dyed his own. I remember the smell of ammonia making me gag as it filled the basement flat he moved us into.

I’ll always remember the pain as his foot connected with my stomach and I laid curled up in the corner crying for my dead mother.

The belt was the worst. I could take the kicks and punches, I could take the shouting and swearing, but it was the belt, the crack of leather across bare flesh, that got me every time.

My father was a violent bastard. He hit me when I came out of school late. He hit me when I turned my nose up at the plates of moulding microwave meals that he placed in front of me. When they made me sick, he whipped me with the belt while I was hunched over the toilet emptying my stomach. And sometimes, he just hit me for kicks, when there was nothing on TV or he didn’t have a woman to entertain him for the night.

I’d gotten used to it. I didn’t have a choice. The women were disgusting and I never saw the same one twice. Not until Belle. All of them were dirty and smelled of the same stuff Dad kept in the bottles in the cupboard – the only thing he kept stocked up while the moulding cupboards remained bare and my stomach remained empty. They smoked too; it seeped out from Dad’s bedroom until the flat became foggy. It made me cough until I was sick, but I got used to that too, to the point where I enjoyed it and could suck it in and blow circles back out.

Those women weren’t my mother. I’d realised she wasn’t coming back, when Dad told me what he’d done, and eventually I made myself stop missing her. She’d managed to escape and I had to be glad. I didn’t want Dad hurting anyone else like he did me.

I started counting my trips to the A&E. Daddy always took me to hospital because he didn’t know how to look after me. He was only good at hurting me. I had a mattress on the floor in my bedroom and whenever we came back from hospital after the doctors had fed me and given me medicine to take the pain away, I drew a little line on the wall next to the last. When Daddy twisted my arm behind my back and squashed me against the wall until my arm broke, he told the doctors I’d been in a fight at school. When he stamped on my leg until it broke because I’d dropped a glass of water on the carpet, he told the nurse I was playing football with my friends and had an accident.

I wanted to tell the doctors it was him hurting me, but he told me they didn’t care about poisonous little shits and they’d hurt me too when they realised I was a nasty life-sucking leech. So I didn’t say anything. I agreed with the stories Daddy told, and told the doctors I loved him because if the doctors took me away, they’d hurt me more than my dad did.

I didn’t have any friends at school and the other kids laughed at me because I didn’t wear the right uniform, and they said I ate like an animal.

I was hungry. Always hungry. I couldn’t eat slowly because I needed the food so much. I ate so quickly my belly filled up and swelled, and I got cramps. Sometimes I was sick and couldn’t leave the bathroom to go to class in the afternoon. So the teachers hated me, too.

I sat in the corner to eat every day, because I didn’t want them to watch me. I didn’t want anyone to take the food away.

Dad had to buy me a coat when it started snowing because my teacher asked him why I didn’t have one. I got the belt that night and he made me count to ten when he hit me, because my teacher told him I asked to stay inside at lunchtime. It was cold, so cold my hands hurt and I couldn’t bend my fingers. Dad didn’t like buying things for me. He said it was a waste of money if he spent it on me because I was a worthless son of a whore. I cried in my bedroom when the pain in my back thumped around my whole body, and the blood made my school shirt wet and sticky.

Dad ignored me and a lady came downstairs a little while later. I stayed in my room and made the crying stop. I wasn’t allowed to let the whores know I was there.

Dad didn’t come to get me from school. It was cold and dark and all the teachers had left while I hid round the corner so they didn’t see me.

When the streetlights came on and the roads were quiet because everyone was home for the night, I decided to walk. I knew the way and although Dad told me not to leave school before he got there, I was hungry and needed to move to warm up. I put my hands in my pockets and walked along the street. I knew he’d hit me – he didn’t need a reason to – but at least I could get out of the snow.

I walked along the backstreets behind the rows of shops. I didn’t want him to find me before I got home. He always hit me harder when he had to wait to do it. Dad didn’t hit me in front of people; he said if he did, the grown-ups would join in and he wanted to protect me.

I could smell the food as I walked behind one of the restaurants. It made my belly rumble and my mouth watered. I could smell how hot the food was. I never got to eat hot food. It was always cold and sometimes still frozen. I stopped by the open door to the kitchen and looked in. I watched a man cooking and breathed in deep. I thought if I could see and smell the food I might be able to taste it and then I wouldn’t be hungry anymore. I watched him put a burger and scoop of chips into a box and then into a brown paper bag, and he put it on the counter before ringing a bell next to it. He turned around to read something from a ticket and my feet moved me inside quickly and quietly. I knew it was naughty, but I really wanted the food. My head felt tingly when I thought about tasting the burger.

I snatched the bag off the counter as a lady stopped opposite me to pick it up. She screamed at the man and as I turned to run away, so did he. He grabbed my backpack but I was too fast and he let go. I kept running, slipping on the slushy snow, but I didn’t stop. I could hear him shouting after me, calling me a dirty thief, but I didn’t stop. I knew stealing was bad. Mummy had told me once, when I picked up an apple as we passed the greengrocers. She made me go and give it to the man who owned the shop. He let me have the apple, but Mummy made me promise never to steal again.

I’d broken my promise, but I was so hungry.

I slowed down when I couldn’t see the restaurant anymore, and stopped between two cars. I leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor to hide. Opening the bag, I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell. It smelled so good and I knew it would hurt my belly if I ate it, but I pulled the burger out and took a really big bite.

Hey.

I looked up and hugged the bag to protect my food. My mouth was full and the sauce in the burger dripped off my chin. The boy standing over me was a bigger boy, but I wouldn’t let him take my dinner.

Go away, I said, catching the food as it fell out of my mouth, and shoving it back in.

He lifted his hands up and smiled.

It’s freezing out here. Wanna come eat in the warm?

No.

I looked away from him and down at my chips. I wanted to carry on eating but I was worried that if I moved, he would take it away.

Go ahead. I ain’t gonna take it.

I slowly picked up a chip and ate it quickly. He didn’t move, so I shoved a handful in my mouth, snorting when I ate too fast to breathe.

Slow down, buddy. You’ll choke.

Leave me alone.

Why would he care if I choked? People didn’t care about me. I carried on eating, hoping he’d just leave me alone."

I’ve seen you before, he said, sitting opposite me on the snow. You go to my school.

So?

So I’ve seen you eating like a horse before. You bulimic or something?

What’s that?

He raised his eyebrows. Binge and purge. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what that meant. You eat a ton of food and then throw it up.

Oh. Maybe I was bulimic. I was always sick after I’d eaten because my belly didn’t like being full.

No.

So you’re neglected.

Go away.

Mother or father?

I stared at him and frowned. He wasn’t going away.

I don’t have a mother.

So it’s your dad. I can help you, you know.

I looked away again. I don’t need help. I just want to eat.

What’s your name?

Benton.

How old are you, Benton?

Twelve.

I’m Freddy and I’m fifteen. I nodded. What was I supposed to say? Want me to help you?

With what?

Fighting back.

I finished my food and stood up. I’d thought about it before – what would happen if I sneaked into my dad’s room one night, grabbed his belt and hit him like he did me? I knew I’d be the one bleeding and in pain if I did.

No thanks.

I stepped past Freddy and walked away without looking back.

I opened the door slowly and screwed my face up when I heard the TV and a woman’s laugh. I tried to sneak past and into my room, but my dad stopped me with his scratchy voice. He’d been drinking from his bottle.

Benton.

I stopped and turned on the spot.

I got lost, I lied.

Come and meet my friend, he said. She’s a whore, just like your mother.

I stepped into the room and looked at the woman. She had black sticky hair, red eyes and wonky teeth. She looked nothing like my mother, so I still didn’t know what made a woman a whore.

Hello, Benton, she said, and smiled at me.

I waved and stayed still.

I think you’ll like him, Belle.

I think so, too.

She licked her lips and my skin got prickly. It did that when I was scared. I didn’t like Belle. She wasn’t beautiful and kind like my mother.

Want to see how we play? Dad said. Belle nodded and wiggled on his lap. Benton, be a good little shit and go get my belt.

I couldn’t breathe. I tried but all I did was squeak. My legs felt weird, like they wanted to make me run, but they were almost too heavy to walk as I went to Dad’s room and picked the belt up off the floor. I carried it back to the dark living room and stood next to his chair. He held his palm up and I placed the belt on top. He smiled. Belle smiled. I tried not to throw up the best dinner I’d ever eaten.

Shirt off.

I took my coat off and dropped it on the floor. I took my jumper off next and then tried to undo my shirt, but my fingers were shaking and I couldn’t open the buttons.

Benton, Dad growled.

He didn’t like waiting. I didn’t like making him wait. It made him hit me harder. Belle stood up and touched my shirt. I shivered and my belly bubbled. I wanted to be sick. She undid my shirt for me and folded her arms while I took it off. I felt really small, in front of the tall whore, and next to Dad who was bigger than most grown-ups I’d seen. He nodded to the sofa in the corner and I knelt in front of it. My belly touched the cushions as I bent over but I didn’t have time to take a deep breath before Dad hit me with the belt. I screamed and tears stung my eyes. I squeezed them shut. Belle laughed and made a sound like a happy animal. Dad hit me again and I cried and begged him for number three. Number three was when my skin started to go numb and I knew I wouldn’t feel the pain when number four cut me. I counted to ten like I always did, my voice getting quiet because I couldn’t breathe properly. Belle laughed loudly and the slash of Dad’s belt was so loud I guessed he didn’t hear me reach ten, because he kept going. I kept my eyes closed and counted until Dad had had enough.

It hurt to sit down. If I accidentally sat back on my chair, I felt my shirt stick to me. I wanted to cry. I didn’t – I didn’t want the teacher to hurt me if they found out I’d been bad.

I went to the playground at lunchtime and sat on the floor in the corner to watch the other kids play. They didn’t want to play with me; it hurt too much for me to run around and they thought I was weird.

Benton. I tried to get up when I saw Freddy coming towards me, but he was quicker so I froze instead. Want to play football?

His friends called for him and told him to leave me alone, but he waved them away and told them to fuck off.

I can't play.

Okay.

Instead of leaving me alone like I wanted him to, he sat on the floor with me and picked up a loose stone.

What are you doing? I asked.

Keeping my friend company. He shrugged and grinned. What are you doing?

Watching. I shrugged back. We’re not friends.

Sure we are. He smiled again. He smiled a lot. It was weird. Friends have secrets and I know yours.

I don’t know yours.

You will. He flicked the stone away and picked up another. Did he beat you last night?

I looked down at the floor and shook my head. Dad had sent me to my room last night when he’d had enough of the belt. He said it was time for him to play with Belle. I didn’t ask questions; I got up off the floor and walked to my room as quickly as I could, curling up on the mattress and trying not to listen to them playing.

Freddy? I said, preparing to ask him a question. Friends asked each other questions, didn’t they? What’s a whore?

Freddy laughed and patted my knee. That didn’t hurt.

You’re not one, Benny.

I know. I chewed my lip. I was scared. My dad says women are whores. He says my mother was a whore, but I don’t know what it means.

You don’t need to. He waved his hand as if it didn’t matter. "Sure, some women are whores, but not all. And I’ll bet your mother isn’t."

Wasn’t, I corrected.

Wasn’t. Your dad is a liar.

I hid my face. Mummy said Dad was a liar too, but that was a secret.

What other weird stuff does he say?

The bell rang to tell us lunchtime was over and Freddy jumped to his feet. He waited for me, but it took me longer to get up. He got tired of waiting, grabbed my bag and my arm, and pulled me to