Page 56 of No Asylum Here

My heart squeezed as I realized what was happening.

He was going to bite me, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Paralyzed, all I could do was brace for the pain.

He lurched forward, razor-sharp teeth closing around my clit. I waited for the bite to land. Instead, darkness folded around me and everything vanished in an instant. The dream changed once again, the scenery around me materializing into something faintly familiar.

Deep dread gripped my heart once it hit me where I was.

The trailer park where I'd grown up.

I was little again, my purple backpack slung over my shoulder while I stared up at the screen door that my dad dented in one of his many drunken episodes. This was more than a bad dream. It was a memory I thought I'd made my peace with, but here it was, haunting me like it always used to.

The urge to turn and run washed over me, leaving me in a cold sweat just as it had every day I'd gotten off the school bus. Because he would be there inside, waiting for me. Every day I was at school, I had to live with the fear of coming home, wondering if this would be a good day or a bad day.

All these years later, this particular day was branded in my head. I remembered every detail, down to the color of underwear I had on.

This had been a bad day.

My little hand reached up for the door handle, and the metal door groaned as I opened it. If I could, I'd turn around and walk away. I never wanted to see my father again, even in my memories. Too bad this wasn't a lucid dream. I was trapped in my small body, feeling just as powerless as I had that day.

Inside, the room was dark, with the stained curtains drawn. The figure of my father sat in his armchair, one of the few pieces of furniture inside the single-wide trailer. He snarled when the light from the outside shone in his eyes, and he threw up an arm to shield himself, like a vampire afraid of burning.

"Close that fuckin' door!"

Trepidation launched my little heart into a full gallop as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. "Hi, Daddy..."

I simmered in the silence, the kind that was anything but quiet. The calm before the storm.

“Your teacher called.”

My chest tightened. Of course, the one time she called was the month my dad decided to pay the phone bill.

“She told me about your silly little career day speech. What? Didn't think of inviting your old man?"

It was called career day. Parents were supposed to come and talk about their job, and then their kid would read a speech they prepared on what they wanted to be when they grew up. I hadn't invited my parents because Mom was gone, and Dad never worked.

I bit my lip, knowing better than to say it aloud. "I didn't want to bother you, Daddy."

He barked a laugh devoid of humor. "Right, cuz I'm so damn busy here. You're a terrible liar, girl. You didn't invite me because you're ashamed of me."

"No! I⁠—"

I flinched as he swung his arm, knocking the collection of beer cans from the TV dinner tray beside his chair. "Don't lie to me, you little shit!"

It was difficult to describe the complicated tangle of emotions knotting in my gut, even to this day. All I knew was that I never wanted to feel that way again. It was the day I decided I would grow up to be nothing like him.

Fletcher Beckett hauled himself out of his armchair with a grunt and stood over my trembling body, glaring down at me with a loathing I wondered what I'd done to earn.

"Your teacher said you gave a little speech about how you want to be a doctor. That true?"

Terrified, I nodded.

The man burst out laughing. "Only smart girls grow up to be doctors, Tuesday. Trailer trash like you should keep your aspirations realistic."

"Realistic?"

"Yeah. You're like your mom, sweetheart. Cute, but dumb. If you play your cards right, you'll meet a nice boy who will take care of you." My dad's voice softened, making the blow of his words hit that much harder. “Now, be useful and go get Daddy a beer."

By the slur of his words, I knew he'd already had enough. "But⁠—"