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I hear...

I hear the knocking on my door and I know it's Alex. I knowI hear his voice, so it must be Alex.

Must be...

It must be Alex, buthis voice, it sounds like someone else's. Daddy. No. It's Alex. We're in Greece and it's definitely Alex. DefinitelyYes, definitely. The room here is different than mine back home. The walls are a different color, texture., it smells different, like the beach. Maybe I left my window open too long last night. I don't usually, the beach smells bother me after awhile. After awhile I feel like a gull or a hermit crab or something.

After awhile...

Alex knocks again after awhile, I can hear him calling for me. Supper's ready, I'm sure, and Katrina is probably telling him to just let me be if I didn't want to come. Katrina's like that, real cool and all about my personal freedom and what I want to do and all that. After all, I'm just a boarder. They shouldn't care. Alex shouldn't care.

Shouldn't...

He shouldn't care a lick, but he does and that's what bothers me so much. He likes me, I can tell, and II can't deal with anything like that right now. Too much stress now, much more than I ever anticipated. Everything floods back on me at the oddest times now. Everything I want to forget, I can't and I hate it.

Hate...

I hate the way it all comes back, the stupid stuff, like how Jason used to drug me up andtouch me. It makes me sick to think about it now, which is why I don't want any dinner. Too sick to eat, too sick to do anything. Sick, I just lay there, on the bed, too tired to do anything, sick. They worry about me, I know, Alex especially, but I just need to be alone.

Alone...

I'm all alone, but I don't want to be because I can hear him coming. I hear someone at the door again, but I try to ignore him. He's not calling for dinner. I can hear what he wants in his voice, and I know there won't be any knocking. No knocking, ever, never. He doesn't knock before barging in. I used to have to knock before coming out sometimes, when I was little. Before all the questions, before the social worker found the lock on the outside of my bedroom.

Before...

Before all that had gone down, he didn't hate me exactly, he just didn't tolerate me. When it all happened, though, he found out just how I was, and then everything about me was like a stench to him. He hits me on my birthday the hardest, and I know it's punishment for being born, though I can't very well help it.

Help...

I need help. He barges in now and the beach smell evaporates from

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