She would get no food tonight. She had started up the basement steps too soon– before the lock had clicked in place. He had thrown the door back open and she froze, terrified, and he bent down and swooped up the plate of hot, sweet-smelling food.
“You stupid-assed brat! You KNOW you don’t come up those fucking steps until you hear the lock go back into place! Are you too stupid to learn that?!”
She didn’t utter a sound, just stared at him, wide-eyed, not knowing if he actually wanted an answer from her or not. Instead, she lowered her head and edged down the steps, one by one on her bottom.
The door slammed shut and the lights went out since they were controled from above. Another night of no food and having to sleep on the hard, cold, concrete floor. She tried to remember what she had done to warrent this punishment again, but as hard as she had tried, she couldn’t bring it to memory. The last thing she remembers is telling her aunt about her and her uncle playing horsey on the bed and how uncle showed her to hold onto his handle. Her aunt had gotten really mad.
Then the next thing she knew she was being punished with the basement punishment. She had no clue as to what she had done wrong this time. She was trying so hard to be a good little girl. She didn’t want this punishment anymore. Of all the punishments this one was the worse, but then she thought that of every punishment she got.
She wondered if all five year old girls were punished this way, if this was just the way life was everywhere. She didn’t know. If she was with daddy or mama, would they punish her like this too?
Hours later she heard the lock click open again and the door open. She cowarded in the corner of the room, in the dark. She seen a bobbing light floating down the stairs. She was terrified. Was uncle adding something new to the basement punishment?
It was her cousin. Her and her cousin were close, more like sisters. Her cousin brought her a plate of warmed up food and a big, fluffy sleeping bag. “Don’t let daddy catch you with this sleeping bag Stormy. Do you understand? If he does, then I will be in trouble too.” I told her I understood and would hide it in the junk boxes in the corner, making sure I was up and awake before him and that I would take my paper plate and plastic fork and stuff them in the holes in the walls and cover them back with the rocks that had fell out of those holes.
My cousin hugged me and snuck back up the stairs and closed and locked the door back and went back to her room. At least someone was couragous enough in this family to risk helping her.
After I ate, and the food was so good, I did as I promised and layed down and went to sleep. I woke up what seemed like every ten minutes, fearful that uncle would catch me.
When morning came, I hid the sleeping bag and sat at the foot of the stairs. He opened the lock, put a bowl down, shut the door and waited. I didn’t move. I don’t know how long he waited but I didn’t move. Finally the lock clicked and I still waited. I waited until I heard his car pull out of the driveway before I rushed up the stairs and quickly at the stiffened oatmeal that was in the bowl.
Yes, friends and neighbors. That is just one of the things I lived through when I was young. I hate basements. Most people are scared of basements due to having watched too many scary movies or a fear of the creepy crawlies that are always down there or whatever, but I am scared of going down into one and being locked up–either accidently or as a joke or on purpose or whatever. I will not, even when faced with a tornado or any other acts of nature or disaster go into a flippin’ basement!
Who was this uncle that did this to me, you ask? The uncle that recently departed this world. I supposed that is why I needed to get this off my chest. I’ve been having nightmares about it again and maybe, I thought, if I wrote it out, the nightmares would stop, and I could get past, at least, this spot, in my life. I hope it works. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night thinking I’m in his basement again.
