I was always yelled at for making little mistakes but I did something so unforgivable that Mommy and Daddy couldn't forgive me. They started making me call them Sir and Ma'am but they are my parents!

Last week, we moved all the way from our big house in New York to this smaller ranch in Texas. Mommy and Daddy weren't too happy about it. They said their boss isn't giving them as much money, that they had to stay off the radar or something like that. They mentioned a deal, but Mommy made me go up to my room so i wouldn't hear anything.

Mommy told me to polish her and daddy's shoes. She said use the black polish for black shoes and brown polish for the brown shoes. She gave me a white spongey thing to clean the shoes

"We want it all done in an hour. We will be back and we want all the shoes done," Daddy said in his thick Russian accent.

He said he moved here when I was born for a better life but nothing is good about my life.

"Of course Sir," I said and ran to the room with the cleaning supplies.

After thirty minutes of scrubbing endlessly I was getting tired. It was passed my bed time and I just wanted to go to my attic.

I wasn't paying attention and dipped the shiner with brown polish and rubbed it on Daddy's favorite black shoes.

"Oh no oh no oh no..." I muttered to myself.

I tried running it under water but it just spread even more. I scrubbed it with a sponge but then the leather started to chip.

I'm gonna be in so much trouble with sir and ma'am now.

I finish the polishing and go up the stairs to the attic. When it gets really cold and I start shivering Mommy and Daddy say it's good exercise because I can't be fat or they won't want me anymore. I haven't gotten used to it but if I don't complain daddy said he might get me a winter coat. He's a good dad.

After a short sleep I'm awoken by a loud slam in the door.

"Sir?" I ask.

"You little bitch," he sneered.

"W-What sir? I cleaned, I cooked, and I polished your shoes. All for you dad." I plea.

"Don't call me Dad. You aren't my daughter, not anymore. You can't do anything right! You call me sir and only sir."

"Y-yes s-sir," I say.

"You ruined my shoes Val- Aubrey. I didn't want to do this but bad children get punished."

"No! I don't want it... not again," I cry.

"Oh no Aubrey. It won't be like last time. This will be much worse," he chuckled darkly.

"Worse?" I say, fear lacing my small voice.

He nods his head with a smile. He takes off his belt and smacks it against the wall. I scream in horror.

"You scream just like Marina did."

Ignoring my pleas for him to stop, he started to hit me again and again. Until I was bleeding everywhere, all over my small back and arms. Mommy stood at the door with a wicked grin across her face. She enjoyed watching me in pain lately.

All of a sudden, they weren't like the other kids parents, they were meanies.

•

The next week was even worse.

I made another mistake.

I got a long list of the things to do around the house. Barbara and Anderson said I could go to school if everything was finished by eight o'clock. So I got straight to work.

I mopped, sweeped, dusted and everything in between. I did the piles laundry and went to the corner store to get their chips they wanted.

I am only nine! Why do I have to do this?

I organize the closets and made up the beds. I also made the neighbors Christmas cookies. Ma'am asked me to this when we we would move because she wanted us to seem normal. The neighbors always fell for it.

I winced as I laced up my sketchers and put on a turtle neck and my best pair of jeans. I brushed the knot out of my hair and practiced my smile in the mirror.

It was hard for me to smile.

I then picked up the container of cookies and walked to the only other house on the cul-de-sac.

Knock Knock Knock

A teen girl opened the door. She looked so pretty. Her hair was blonde, and she wore these skinny jeans and one of those cardigans you see on all the tv shows and catalogs. She has pink lip gloss on too... I wanted to look like her when I'm older.

"Hi, I'm Aubrey. Your new neighbor," I greet, holding out the cookie jar, "Here's some cookies."

She smiled. "Oh. Thanks. I'm Candace. Do you maybe want to come in for some hot chocolate?"

I never had hot chocolate before. Mommy says I'm not allowed to meet new people. But, I wanted to know what it tastes like. "Sure.

Candace let me in and I followed her to the kitchen. The layout was similar to my own house.

Candace's mom comes around the corner.

"Mom, this is Aubrey. She's our neighbor," introduces Candace.

I take a sip of the hit chocolate. It was good, but it burnt my tongue.

"Hello dear."

I smiled and Candace started to talk to me. I zoned out for a second and hear a car outside. I looked out the window and saw my mom and dad pull into our drive way. Did I do everything they told me?

My mind raced and I realized that the answer was no.

The one thing I forgot to do was the dishes.

I hopped out of my seat in a rush. "I-I have to go," I tell Caroline as I run out of the door.

I run across the street and into the house.

"Tell me where you just were," demanded Dad- no Sir.

I cowered into the closed door. "I-I went to give the neighbors cookies."

Then, my mom came up to me. "What did I tell you about going into houses?"

Slap.

I held my cheek and she yelled in my face again. "Answer the question!"

"N-never go i-in," I responded with tears flooding my vision.

"Exactly."

My dad then took his belt from his pants and laughed sinisterly.

The slashes on my back had finally formed scabs but it all reopened after his punishment.

For the next few years, I became their personal servant. If I did anything wrong I was beaten or burned. He dug his cigarettes into my skin, threw empty bottles of alcohol at me, cut me with knives, and starved me until I could barely walk or get out of bed.

I would cry and cry but it wouldn't end.

Only then I realized that the only way for it to stop was to not say anything at all. To never cry or stand up for myself. I just had to endure it.

Act like it was normal.

And now that is all I know.