by Paige Dearth
WHEN SMILES FADE
Paige Dearth
Copyright © 2011 Paige Dearth
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1475096925
ISBN 13: 978147509692
SOME DIRT ON THE AUTHOR:
Born and raised in Plymouth Meeting, a small town west of Philadelphia, Paige Dearth was a victim of child rape and spent her early years yearning desperately for a better life. Living through the fear and isolation that marked her youth, she found a way of coping with the trauma of her past and the angst that scarred her present: she developed the ability to dream up stories grounded in reality that would prove cathartic for her and provide her with a creative outlet when she finally embarked on a series of novels. Paige’s debut novel, Believe Like A Child, is the darkest version of the life she imagines she would have been doomed to had fate not intervened in the nick of time. Her second novel, When Smiles Fade, is a tale of endurance, perseverance, courage, and the will of one young girl to fight back against injustice. Both novels are compelling proof of the fine balance this author is capable of achieving between what lives on in her imagination and the evil that lurks in the real world.
Paige is currently working on her third novel about the abduction of a young girl. This book promises to take readers on a chilling ride through territory where no sane person would dare to tread.
CONNECT WITH PAIGE:
Visit her website at www.paigedearth.com
Friend Paige on Facebook at www.facebook.com/paigedearth
Follow on Twitter: @paigedearth
In loving memory of Dell, my brother from Seattle: I’ll miss you always.
Hugs and Kisses,
Paige
Dedication
For my daughter, whose hard work and dedication to people is nothing short of amazing. You inspire me in many ways.
I will love you until the day I die.
~Mom
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
JUST LISTEN
The Seed Is Planted
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-One
Chapter Ninety-Two
Chapter Ninety-Three
Chapter Ninety-Four
Chapter Ninety-Five
Chapter Ninety-Six
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Chapter One Hundred
Chapter One Hundred and One
Chapter One Hundred and Two
Chapter One Hundred and Three
Chapter One Hundred and Four
Chapter One Hundred and Five
Chapter One Hundred and Six
In the End…
Believe In A Child Sample
Chapter One Sample
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my hubby for being there with me every step of the way. It is your unfailing belief in me that has helped me to carry on and continue to write, confident in the knowledge that one day, it will all make a difference.
Much love and appreciation to Aunt Barbara for your review and edit of this book. It means the world to me.
My deep appreciation to a great artist and childhood friend, Boo-Boo. You have captured my soul with your God given artistic talent and understanding of who I really am. Check out her incredible work at www.disantoart.com
My deepest gratitude to Gina: your devotion to my work and success means everything to me – hmmmm.
Big E: I love you as if you were my very own.
Many, many, many thanks to the wonderful book-blogging community! You’re all incredible people!
~Paige
JUST LISTEN
“When your mind is quiet and you listen closely, you will hear the children weeping silently. If you can’t quite hear their cries, then listen with your eyes. These are the children of the streets, who have learned pain and suffering before they ever had a chance to experience life. Do not ignore their cries for help, for all they wish is that you will rescue them. They do not have a family that wants them, they don’t know how it feels to be loved and they’ve never lived anywhere that felt like home…the streets are where they find their voice and relief from all of the suffering.
Just listen and you’ll see them.”
~Paige Dearth
The Seed Is Planted
“Emma! Get your ass down here, you stupid little bitch! What the fuck did I tell you about not living like a pig?” Pepper screamed.
Panic-stricken at the thought of what would happen next, Emma rushed her younger sister, Gracie, over to the bedroom closet and pushed the tiny child inside. Before shutting the door she said, “Don’t move or make any noise.” Then in a softer whisper she warned her younger sister, “You have to be really, really quiet. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
That was code for “be invisible.” Gracie obeyed her older sister, tears of fright silently dribbling down her cheeks.
Emma rushed into the hallway and stopped to look at her mother, who was standing just inside her own bedroom. “What the hell did you do now?” she accused. “How many times do I have to tell you to do what you’re told? You brainless idiot!”
Gracie listened from the closet to the rapid patter of eight-year-old Emma’s feet as she ran down the stairs. There was an eerie silence during which she unconsciously held her breath. Then the first blow was struck. Followed by others. Gracie cringed at her older sister’s muffled shrieks of torment as she imagined the scene downstairs with telling accuracy. Emma, she knew from past experience, had once again been transformed into her father’s punching bag. She wondered why their mother didn’t go and help Emma. Resisting the urge to run downstairs, Gracie stayed hidden upstairs in the bedroom closet as she was instructed, waiting for the beating to end, scared that her father would come for her after he was finished with her older sister.
Down in the kitchen, Pepper Murphy lurched around, unsteady on his feet. He towered over his young daughter, contemplating her stricken face for several minutes and deriving a sickening enthusiasm and fresh energy from her growing terror. She stood before him, whimpering from the fear that was planted in her heart, wishing, as always, that her father’s love for her would overpower his fury. That never happened. When she had worked herself up into a frenzy of fear, Pepper punched her in the eye. Emma lost her footing and hurtled back into the doorframe. Almost immediately, her face began to swell at the site of impact.
Snatching her up by the collar of her shirt, Pepper slapped Emma across the face with such force that he split her lip open. Blood gushing into her mouth and down her chin, she watched as her father walked over to the stove and turned on the burner. When the cold black coil began to glow a scorching orange, he shut the burner off and stood glaring at his daughter. Her body involuntarily shook as she wondered what he was going to do to her. Huddled in the corner of the kitchen, Emma wished the walls would open so that she could crawl inside of them and find the needed protection from her father’s wrath. “Please, Daddy. Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry,” the child begged.
His eyes bored into hers, undeterred by her fear and pain. Emma watched in terror as the corners of his mouth curled up, until he was smiling like a sadistic monster. She trembled visibly in anticipation of what was to come. Her father suddenly pounced on her. Grasping her by the arm, he dragged her, kicking and screaming, over to the hot burner. Then he seized her left hand and ordered her to unclench her teeny fist. After she opened her hand, Pepper slapped her palm down on the hot burner in one swift movement, holding it in place for a couple of seconds and letting the young, tender skin boil and blister from the intense heat that still remained. Then he bent down, his face close to his daughter’s, and snorted, “Oink! Oink! Oink!” into her ear.
All through the ordeal, Emma’s shrills of agony sliced through the silence of the house. Valerie lay on her bed upstairs. Her mind filled with raw horror as she imagined what would happen to her if Pepper killed the child and was sent to prison. She prayed that he wouldn’t take it too far this time. She didn’t give a thought to the suffering that her older daughter was enduring at the hands of her husband. It was as if she had ice water running through her veins in place of blood.
As Emma collapsed on the floor, Pepper stood over her threateningly. Speaking in a tight, cold voice, he said through clenched teeth, “You are a worthless piece of shit. I don’t know why I just don’t kill you right now. I’m giving you another chance to act like a human being. You can forget about eating dinner tonight. I don’t see why a little pig like you should be fed. Consider yourself lucky that I don’t beat you to death.” He began to leave the kitchen, but turned back at the doorway and bellowed, “You better have this place cleaned up before I get home from the bar!” With that final warning, Pepper grabbed a beer from the refrigerator then stormed out of the kitchen and left the house.
Emma remained sprawled on the floor, paralyzed by the depth of her own despair, her eight-year-old mind trying to recover from what her father had just done to her. Then she scolded herself for failing to wash that one dirty fork that Valerie had left in the sink when she had gotten home from school. Maybe if she had washed it, none of this would have happened, she tried to rationalize, looking for some reason why she deserved such harsh punishment. She sat staring at her blistered, deformed palm. The pain the burn caused was only secondary to her overwhelming despair at being unloved.
This year of her life was when Emma became acutely aware of the possibility that Pepper might actually kill her. The years prior had been hard for her, but now that she was getting older her thoughts and senses were on high alert and she could no longer deny them. She grappled with finding different ways to behave that would stop the abuse, not because she was afraid of dying, but because she was afraid to leave Gracie alone with her parents.
After Pepper had burned her hand on the stove, she did everything in her power to fly below his radar. She made sure to clean the house after school every day and took special care in making his meals. But nothing lightened his fury. It was a Wednesday night and Emma was sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework after she had finished cleaning up from dinner. Her father staggered back into the kitchen to get himself another beer. He opened the can and took a long, hard swig. His head hung as if it were too heavy for his neck to hold as he eyed her with disgust. “I don’t know why you bother with dat school shit; you’re never gonna ’mount to nuttin’ no matter how hard you try,” he babbled through his drunken daze.
Emma looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “My math teacher thinks I’m really smart. She told me that if I wanted to, I could be an accountant someday,” Emma said, hoping to make him feel proud of her.
Pepper stomped over to the table and picked up one of her pencils and thrust the point into her forearm. The pencil stood at attention as she looked on in shock. She quickly yanked the pencil out of her arm and ran to the sink to wash off the blood with soap and water. “See dat! Now you’re not so worried ’bout pretending like you understand anything in those books of yours. Let that be a lesson not to leave your stuff all over my kitchen table. Now get this shit out of here!” he bellowed.
Pepper was tireless in his violent treatment of Emma. To her, the slaps, punches, and kicks came from a bottomless pit of hate that burrowed deep in her father’s soul. The endless bruises he left on her made Emma feel hopeless and ashamed. Alone in the bathroom, Emma would study the wounds and scars that Pepper gave her. She was consumed by her sense of loneliness and lack of power to change her circumstances. She was completely at his mercy and knew he could do whatever he wanted to her, regardless of how broken she became.
It was a warm morning in August and the two girls were jumping rope in the backyard. Pepper got annoyed because they were making too much noise while he was nursing a burning hangover with vodka. He flung open the back door and stood holding his aching head. “You two shut the fuck up. You hear?”
They immediately went silent and stood perfectly still. He turned and went back into the house, and Emma was lulled into a false sense of security as they began running through the yard, playing tag. Moments later, the rotted screen door burst open and Pepper barreled down the cement steps into the yard. He grabbed Emma under her arm and pulled her into the house. She began to plead with him, knowing she was in for something terrible. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she cried, “I swear, we’ll be quiet. OK, Daddy? Please don’t hurt me,” she cried.
Pepper grabbed the soft flesh under her upper arm and pinched as hard as he could. Emma went to her knees as she tried to get him to release his hold. He dragged her into the living room where there was an old wooden trunk. “You want to disobey me? Well then, there is a price for that,” he said calmly.
Pepper pushed the glass vase filled with dusty plas
tic flowers off the chest. It slammed to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. Emma’s eyes bulged as she frantically wondered what he was going to do to her. As her father lifted the lid to the trunk, she shrunk away from him trying to run and escape. He lifted her around the waist, her feet flailing as she tried to break away from his tight grip. Her movements made it impossible for him to get her legs into the trunk. Growing more irrational by the moment, he clamped his teeth on her shoulder until he could taste her blood in his mouth. Then he twisted her arm behind her back until he heard the pop as it dislocated at the shoulder. With excruciating pain in both shoulders she stopped fighting and sank into the trunk. After he slammed the lid shut and locked it, he left her and went to find Gracie. Ignoring her own painful injuries, Emma’s gut twisted as she heard her father slapping Gracie around the living room. I wish I were a superhero, she thought, so that I can break out of here and help my sister.
Inside the trunk her body was twisted in an unnatural position. Her legs were folded at the knees behind her and her torso was bent at the waist so that her nose touched her knees. There was not enough room in the small space for her to reposition herself, and after a couple of hours her limbs went numb.
After the first twenty-four hours had passed and he hadn’t let her out, all she wanted was to die. She reveled in the idea of leaving her measly existence and finally being free of her tormentor, believing that death was a much more appealing option than her current living conditions.
During her imprisonment, every so often her father would flip the trunk on different sides, smashing her dislocated shoulder and twisted body against the walls of the wooden box. Two days later, when he finally opened the lid and let her out, Emma could barely walk.
She literally crawled, with Gracie’s help, over to the sofa where she lay for another four hours. Finally she managed to get to her feet. As she headed toward the foot of the stairs to go up to her room, Pepper put his foot in front of her. Unsteady on her feet, she crashed down onto the floor. She broke her fall with her hands before her face hit the floor and she scurried like a wounded animal to get away from her father. He stood over her and began to laugh. He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face as his daughter watched him, humiliated and defeated.
