FicWad

“Claire, come on!” Ms. Kitty says impatiently. “Get out of the car, and mit your new parents.”
“C-coming, Ms. Kitty.” Claire didn’t like being called Claire. Claire grabbed her ratty backpack.
Ms. Kitty walked up to the door and knocked. The door opened. In the doorway stood a short but stocky man. Claire stared up at him. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no. Runaway runaway runaway.
“Claire, come say hello to your new foster parents.” Ms. Kitty said. Claire walked up to Ms. Kitty with small steps. “Don’t mess this up. Remember, you are a girl. Act like one.” Ms. Kitty hissed in her ear. Then she smiled at the man. “I’m Kitty Livingston, Claire’s caseworker.”
The man smiled down on Claire. “I’m Alexander Hamilton. Welcome, Claire. Come on in. Ms. Livingston, if you’d like to stay to dinner?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Hamilton, I have work to do.” Ms. Kitty walked down the drive. Though Claire didn’t exactly like her, she was a constant. Now Claire was alone with Alexander Hamilton.
“Claire? Would you like to come in?” Alexander asked her. Claire nodded. “Well, come on in then.” Alexander went inside his house, gesturing for Claire to follow. Claire followed.
“JOHN! COME DOWN! CLAIRE IS HERE!” Alexander shouted. Sound of pattering fit from the stairs. Then a tall man came down the stairs, saw Claire, and ran towards her, arms outstretched. Claire flinched and turned away, arms shielding her head. “No, no, no, not yet…” she murmured, eyes shut tight.
“Claire, I am not going to hurt you. I just wanted to give you a hug,” the new man said. He stared at Claire for a second, then said, “Excuse me, Alexander, will you talk to me for a second?”
Claire watched them go, heart sinking. Only two seconds in and she had already messed it up. Can’t you do anything right? Now they think you’re weird. Now they hate you. Stupid, stupid. They’re going to send you away. They’re going to…
What they were going to do would have to be up to Alexander and John, who both came back into the room, with smiles on their faces. “Claire, would you like some dinner?” Alexander asked.
“S-Sure. Th-th-thank you, s-sir.” Claire stuttered.
“What would you like, Claire?” John asked.
Oh no oh no oh no this is a test this is a test this is a test. Don’t do anything wrong, don’t chose wrong, don’t make them mad, don’t let them see you can’t eat anything… “...Claire?” Alexander looked down at Alex.
“Uh, uh, uh, h-how’s pizza?” Claire said. “Sure, Claire.” John said. “I’ll order some now. Why doesn’t Alexander show you your room in the meantime?” Alexander nodded. “C’mon, let’s see your room.” John smiled and went to the kitchen to order pizza.
“O-okay, sir.” Claire nodded.
“Oh, please, Claire. Call me Alexander, sir is much too formal.”
“Yes, sir- I mean, Mr. Alexander.”
“Just Alexander is fine.”
“Okay.”
They walked down the hall in silence. Alexander came to a staircase, went up it. He led Claire into another hallway. He pointed at the first door. “This is where John and I sleep.” He pointed at the second door. “This is a bathroom.” He stopped at the third door down. He opened it with a flourish. Claire saw the room; it was much bigger than any of the rooms she had been in before. “It’s, it’s re-really all for, for me? I don’t have to share?” Alexander smiled. “Of course not, baby girl. It’s all yours. We- John and I-” but here Alexander broke off, because Claire had curled in on herself. “Claire?” He asked.
Claire stood before her new foster father, Mr. King. He seemed very nice, smiling and all. He looked her up and down, and said “You’re very pretty, aren’t you, baby girl?” Claire looked up at him. “I-I guess so, sir.” “Come with me, baby girl,” King had said.
He led her to her room. He closed the door. “Strip,” he said. “S-sir?” Claire said. “I said, strip.” “S-sir, um, I-I don’t, I don’t want,” Claire stuttered. “I said STRIP! I AM YOUR FATHER YOU DO WHAT I SAY!” Claire stripped. He stroked her naked body. He touched all the wrong places. “S-sir, I-I, um, I’m sc-scared.” He looked down at her. “Really?” he smirked. “Sir,” Claire quivered, “St-stop, please,”
He hit her. He punched her in the stomach. “I. Will. Do. What. I. Please. With. My. Daughter.” He punctuated each word with a blow, to her face, to her stomach, to her back. Claire cried out. “What, you don’t like that baby girl? Well get used to it.” King purred. He made a long cut down the side of her chest with his nail. Claire sobbed.
“Claire?” Alexander said. “Claire, are you okay?” Claire looked up, looked around, and uncurled her body. “Y-yes sir. I’m f-f-fine, fine,” Claire said.
“Okay…” Alexander said, taking a mental note to talk to John about this. “Well, the pizza’s almost here, so why don’t you drop your stuff in your room, and we’ll eat.”
“S-sounds great, sir.” Claire shuffled into her new room and set down her bag. It really was an enormous room. She shuffled back out, and then went downstairs with Alexander. John was down there. “The pizza should be coming in about two minutes, okay?” “Thanks, sir.” Claire said, looking down. “Oh, please, call me John, alright?”
“So, Claire, how old are you, exactly?” Alexander asked. “I-I’m 8 years, years old, sir.” Claire responded. “Where are you from, Claire?” John questioned. “New York. Man, man, manhattan.” Just then, the doorbell rang.
“The pizza is here! Time for dinner!” John trilled.
Plates were set out. Claire was seated at small table in between Alexander and John. She stared down at the pizza in front of her. I’m not gonna be able to eat this. But Mr. Alexander and Mr. John will be mad if I don’t… She took a bite, forced it down. She took another bite, forced it down. After the third bite, though, her stomach rebelled. She ran to the bathroom and vomited violently into the sink. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. Mr. John and Mr. Alexander are going to be mad. She heard footsteps up the stairs. Oh no oh no oh no here they come.
“Claire? Are you in here?” John asked. Oh no he found me oh no oh no oh no. “Claire, I’m coming in.” This time it was Alexander. The door opened. John gasped. “Claire, what happened here? Did you throw up?” Alexander’ face was filled with an emotion Claire couldn’t read. “Claire, do you want me to clean you up?” “... no sir… I-I can c-clean, clean this up by m-m-my, myself,” Claire whispered. “I-I’m fine, y-you don’t have to worry.” Claire found a towel and a bottle of Comet in the cupboard and started washing the vomit out of the sink. “Claire, clean yourself up and the rest can wait, okay?” Alexander said. “You just go on to your room, wait there.”
Oh no oh no oh no oh no not yet please not yet. Claire wiped her face and went to her room. She started to get ready for the inevitable.