Free Broken Promises by Terri Reid Page A

little brat from downstairs,” Mrs. Gunderson replied, her voice even louder than her husband’s. “If you had a decent job I wouldn’t have to watch some whore’s kid.”
    “Yeah, well you could get a real job yourself,” he yelled back, “instead of sitting on your fat ass all day watching TV.”
    Another door opened on the floor above them. “You give me that money, hear?” she heard a man call out. “You give me the money or you give me back that blow.”
    “I ain’t got no money, man,” a woman argued back. “And I need my stuff. So, you back away from the door or I will cut you.”
    “Bitch! Give me my money!” the man screamed.
    She knocked on the door again, urgently.
    “Answer the damn door,” Mr. Gunderson yelled.
    The door flew open in front of Clarissa and Mrs. Gunderson reached out and grabbed her by her shoulder and pulled her into the house. “Didn’t your momma ever teach you any manners,” she yelled, slapping Clarissa across the face. “You don’t pound on people’s doors; you wait for them to answer.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Clarissa answered, reeling from the sting of the slap.
    Mrs. Gunderson pulled Clarissa down through the apartment into a small room off the kitchen. It was a little larger than a closet and was filled with stacked boxes. There was a small, child-sized table in one corner with a bowl of broken crayons and a stack of scrap paper on it.
    “Now, you go in there and color,” she said. “And don’t make no noise. We don’t want to be interrupted. Shouldn’t have to be watching you on Sunday, no how. Just doing it out of the goodness of my heart.”
    Clarissa nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she repeated.
    The woman relented a little. “You hungry?” she asked. “I got some peanut butter.”
    Clarissa glanced behind her, to the dirty kitchen counter and tried not to shudder as she watched a cockroach crawl across the jar of peanut butter. “No thank you,” she replied. “We just ate before I came.”
    “Well, good, ‘cause I ain’t s’posed to feed you no ways,” she said. “And you gotta go home a little early tonight. Me and Mr. Gunderson, we got some plans for tonight.”
    Clarissa nodded.
    “And you don’t tell your momma I let you go down early,” she said. “We both know you’s a big girl and can take care of yourself. Right?”
    Clarissa nodded again.
    “And don’t you let your momma forget, I get my pay for next month tomorrow. I can’t watch you ‘cept I get my pay in advance. I ain’t gonna have no one cheat me.”
    “I’ll bring it tomorrow,” Clarissa promised.
    “Effie, the damn show is on pause, are you going to get in here?” Mr. Gunderson yelled.
    “Shut the hell up, Lee, I’m taking care of the kid,” she yelled back.
    Clarissa moved into the little room and obediently sat at the table. “I’ll be back in an hour to let you out, case you need to go potty or something,” Mrs. Gunderson replied, before she closed the door and Clarissa could hear the lock click on the door.
    She pulled a piece of paper across the table, picked out a blue crayon and began to draw a pair of large wings.

Chapter Thirteen
    Rosie locked up her house for the night and finally made her way to her bedroom. She flipped on the overhead light and bathed the room in brightness. Then she picked up the remote from the nightstand and turned on a news channel, so there was noise in the room. She hurried over to her bathroom and quickly completed her evening rituals and then made her way to her bed.
    Her eyes were continually drawn to the closet door. Was it still closed or had it opened just a bit?
    Even when she was in the bathroom, she kept looking into the mirror, watching the door. Expecting it to open on its own. A shudder slid down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Okay, Rosie, get a grip,” she lectured herself. “You’ve lived in this house for over ten years. You love this house. Nothing is going to hurt you.”
    Taking a