The sound of the door slamming caused the four of us to jump. The twins held their spoons halfway to their mouths, shocked and confused. I could see their faces begin to scrunch up in a cry, lips quivering.

I felt my mommy begin to shake, vibrating my arms around her neck, jostling my body situated on her hip. Bubbling up from inside of her like a previously dormant volcano, was a hate I had never experienced, burning so hot and ready to lash out at me, her baby girl. I remember picking my head up from her shoulder and looking into her eyes, placing my small hand on her cheek.

Before, I could have never guessed that my momma could treat me the way she was about to. I had always felt loved, cherished. I didn't know that my momma had been hiding her feelings for me from the beginning in an effort to keep the secret away from Adam. When he left, she had no reason to love me anymore.

Almost instantly she had dropped me, only hanging on to me by her stronghold on my upper arm, almost enough to dislocate my shoulder. She began to drag me down the basement steps, not worrying about each step that was too much for my small legs or each bump I received on the way down. I sobbed, yelling and begging to be let go.

Momma deposited me on that cold basement floor and returned upstairs, locking me in. At first, I was shocked. My momma had never treated me that way and my daddy had never left without kissing me goodbye. My tears came in droves. My arm hurt and I hadn't been able to finish my waffle Daddy

prepared for me. I sat there all day waiting on my momma to come to get me. It was dark and cold.

I figured I must have done something really bad. Momma was putting me in time-out and maybe she forgot about me, so I sat patiently, waiting for her to come and get me. I could hear the twins laughing and playing, but I didn't know where Momma or Daddy was.

I desperately needed a restroom and hadn't been able to hold it. My clothes became soaked, but I was afraid to move. In the past, when Momma put me in time-out, I couldn't move or I'd have to be in time-out for longer. I didn't want to risk Momma putting me in here for longer than she intended.

I slowly toddled up the stairs and attempted to move the handle on the door. It was locked so I knocked and waited for someone to hear. "Mommy, I'm hungry," I said quietly. The small basement window was completely dark and I was scared and surrounded by the darkness. My belly growled, angry it hadn't had anything to eat.

The basement was right next to the kitchen. I could hear my mother shuffling around and what sounded like the chopping of a knife. I put my ear on the door and waited to see if she'd let me out. "Mommy? Please, I won't do bad anymore!" I begged. "I made a mess with my pee-pee, Mommy."

My tears resurfaced. Why was my momma ignoring me? I knocked and begged until my hands hurt and my voice was hoarse. I shivered. I wished for my blanket to cuddle me but settled on my thumb instead.

"Kids, dinners ready." Mommy's voice was so soothing and warm. I quickly stood up and tried the door one more time, hoping she would unlock it for me, but nobody came to let me out.

"Mommy, you forgot to unlock the door," I said, hoping she'd hear. When no response came, I knocked again.

The twins came to the table and asked where I was. "Eden won't be joining us for dinner," Momma had said, her smile evident in her voice. "We'll make sure she gets some food later."

Momma did bring me food after they ate dinner. She stepped into the basement and I jumped up, eager to hold her and tell her how much I missed her. I had never been in time-out for that long. She scrunched her nose, stepped back and put the plate down before turning on a lamp and locking the basement door back behind her. I stared at the door, crying because she didn't talk to me, didn't explain why I was in time-out like she always did.

Momma had brought me three half-eaten chicken nuggets with a glass of water. I ate them immediately and tried my best to drink without a sippy cup. I ended up spilling the water on my shirt, wetting my clothes more, but not before I got a few sips. I rubbed my belly, wanting more.

I was still hungry, my clothes and underwear were wet, and I was so confused. By this time, Daddy always came home and bathed me. I hadn't had a nap, and I was sure it was my bedtime, but the cold basement offered me no comfort or warmth. I found an old rug in the corner of the basement and cuddled up in some old shirts I found in an open box along the wall.

I thought about that morning. Daddy had never raised his voice like that to my momma. One time, Gabe wandered close to the road when we were playing outside and Daddy screamed then, but never at his wife. I could tell Daddy was mad and even sad. But while he always comforted me when I felt that way, he didn't even give me a chance to comfort him.

It was hard to sleep because Daddy or Mommy always tucked me in before bed. I tried singing to myself, the song Daddy always sang to me. I tried to remember the story of Cinderella-Momma's favorite -and told myself the story out loud.

I finally fell asleep, shivering, with tears streaming down my face. I hoped Momma would forgive me in the morning.