For a while I sat in complete darkness, thinking, and waiting. I heard noises coming from the kitchen and put my ear to the door to listen to the conversation.
"Maybe it's not as bad as it seems," I heard Peter say. "I'll start that soup for him."
"What about him?" Mike was asking in a hesitant voice. "I think he'll want food, too."
"Probably, but I don't wanna give it to him," Peter whined. "I'm scared."
"I don't think he'd hurt you," Mike said rationally.
I realized they were talking about me. Was this all a bad dream? It didn't seem real. I listened for awhile as Mike and Peter continued their conversation and Peter made some soup. When it was finished, Mike took the soup upstairs to Micky and I heard Peter head toward me.
I thought quickly. I didn't want Peter to see me, or at least I didn't want to face him. I was ashamed, and I wasn't wearing any clothes. The pajamas I'd been sleeping in were now shredded. There was no time to worry about them though, so I just laid down on the ground and pretended to be asleep.
The door opened and I felt the light on my eyes. Peter's footsteps treaded across the floor and stood over me awkwardly for a few moments. Then he set the bowl on the ground and left without closing the door.
A moment later I heard his footsteps approach again and a warm, heavy blanket was placed over me. Then the foot steps retreated and the door shut.
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