Naked by Stacey Trombley

even one more time. How he looks at me, talks to me. The way my mom ignores my tears. Pretends she doesn’t see me at all anymore. She doesn’t care so why should I care about them? I swear, the next time he tells me how disgusting and horrible I am, the next bruise... I’m leaving. I’m going to do it. I’m going to hop on a train and go to New York where no one will tell me what to do again.
    Pretty clear map to where I was going. They had to have read it. Probably why my poster was all over NYC. Doubt they put it up that many other places; they knew I loved it. I always wanted to go, but it was just another thing that my father thought was “evil.”
    One day I should ask him to define it, “evil.” How is everything in the world evil? That doesn’t even make sense. Although I’m not in much of a position to defend my stance anymore. I’m sure New York is even more evil to him now. It corrupted his sweet baby girl.
    Yeah, right. I sit down at my desk. I used to have a computer here. That was the one thing I did have—they didn’t really realize how much a computer could do. I remember the moment I opened it up, took out the Visa gift card they gave me for my birthday, and bought a one-way ticket to the city of my dreams.
    I left a week later and never looked back. Even after I was raped, even after Luis had me sleeping with his friends for money, I never considered returning home, mostly because I knew that I’d only made myself worse in their eyes. More broken. A worse fit for this family than ever.
    But here I am again.
    I hear the dog bark, deep and loud—that dog is seriously scary shit. Then I hear a scream.
    I run out into the hall and see Jen pinned up against the wall. The dog is crouched down, growling at her. It’s that scary growl again, not the kind you hear from a friendly dog just defending itself. This dog is terrified. Why wouldn’t it be? You can only get hit so often before you think any raised hand is headed your direction. I would know. It’s a fear I’m no stranger to.
    I see my mom frozen in shock, big eyes and a hand over her mouth.
    “Martin isn’t home yet…” she says, as if this means anything.
    She reaches out her hand, like she wants to help but isn’t sure what to do. I step forward. I’m not sure what I can do, but I figure this dog likes me better than my mom.
    My mother’s frightened eyes flicker toward me.
    “Czar,” I say calmly. The dog doesn’t react. He probably doesn’t even know his own name.
    I take another step forward, and this time I see his eyes flicker to me. I plan on stepping between the girl and the dog. It’s less likely he’ll attack me.
    I slowly walk around and take a big side step so that I’m between Jen and the growling dog. I keep my hands up in surrender and pray that this isn’t a huge mistake. But it’s the least I’d want, someone to take a chance and be patient while I figured out they weren’t out to hurt me.
    I keep my voice and gaze steady. “It’s okay. It’s all right.”
    Czar’s eyes dart around the room, but his stance relaxes enough for me be confident he’s not going to pounce on me. I tell Jen to inch past me, and I wait until she’s past the reach of the chain before following her.
    Czar just watches us go.
    When I’m about to take another step, my father walks through the front door.
    “Martin!” my mother calls.
    The dog’s head whips toward him.
    My father takes one look, and in a single quick motion he pushes the dog to the ground and hits him with an open hand across his head. My guess is that this isn’t the first time he’s treated the dog this way. Czar doesn’t fight back at all. That beautiful dog falls to the ground and takes the hit with only a wince.
    “Dad!” I say as he raises his hand to swing again. “Hitting him isn’t going to help.”
    “He needs to know who’s boss!” His hand lands on the dog’s head with a loud smack . I wince and turn away, only listening to the sounds