Chapter 6 Bad dreams

Elle gets off the bed and puts her clothes back on. Kyrie watches her in a daze, mind slowly coming back to reality now that it's finally over. Her body hurts horribly, especially between her legs. She's scared to look down, afraid that she'll see herself bleeding, broken in half by Elle's vicious pounding. Instead, she stares out her window at the night sky.

"Time for me to go." Elle adjusts her hair. "But don't worry, I'll be back soon. I am your guardian angel, after all. And you're a great cum dump. I have to introduce you to some friends of mine, next time I come to visit."

"No..." Kyrie shakes her head weakly.

"Don't be silly, you're going to love them. And they will love you! But, before I go, I do have to sing one tiny little song..."

Elle performs a slow, elegant dance.

Shadows, cradle baby Kyrie

Keep our secrets out of sight

Memories, turn to dreams of eerie

Visitations in the night

"Kyrie." Christine gently shakes her shoulder. "It's time to get up."

Kyrie snaps up with a gasp, eyes wide with terror. She scrambles away in a panic.

"Kyrie!" Christine starts. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Did you have a bad dream?"

"Mommy!" Kyrie crawls over to her and hugs her tight. "I was praying for my guardian angel to visit me and she did! I saw her! She had big yellow wings and a cracked glowing circle floating over her head! Like a broken crown, her eyes were so orange and bright like a fire, and she did bad things to me she made me do so many bad, bad things! She hurt me! I was so scared, Mommy! Mommyyyyy!"

"Oh my God!" Christine hugs Kyrie. "I'm so sorry baby girl, but it's over now. You're safe with me."

"It felt so real!" Kyrie sniffles into Christine's breast. "I never had a nightmare so bad before. I thought I was going to die for sure."

"Oh, no, sweetheart." Christine rocks her back and forth. "I won't let anything happen to my little angel. You know, sometimes talking about our dreams makes them less scary. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Kyrie pulls out of the hug and rubs her eyes. "She flew in my window! Her name was, um... Elle. She was big and strong and scary and mean. A mean, mean bully. I bet she was the worst bully ever. She was nice at first, we played..." Kyrie wrinkles her eyebrows, vaguely remembering her promise not to tell anyone about Secret Kisses. "Um... we played a game, but then she... she..."

"What, baby?" Christine fixes Kyrie's hair. "Did she call you a bad name?"

"Yeah..." Kyrie shifts uncomfortably, growing sick to her stomach. "She called me a slut."

"...What?" Christine narrows her eyes. "Kyrie, where did you learn that word? That's... a bad word, you shouldn't say it."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Mommy. But that's what she called me, she told it to me. When she... touched my, um... private place, with her boy thing. She said it's called rape and it's her favorite game."

"Jesus Christ." Christine gasps at Kyrie in horror, heart dropping out of her chest. "Kyrie, where... How do you know those words? Those are bad, grown up words. Little girls aren't supposed to- What do you mean, her boy thing?"

"I just told you, Elle told them to me!" Kyrie balls her fists impatiently. "In my dream! You know what a boy thing is!"

"Kyrie, that's..." Christine looks at the window, shaking her head. "Girls don't have boy things. And, I don't think you can learn a bad word from a dream."

"Well, I did!" Kyrie crosses her arms. "And she had one. It was so big. I bet it was the biggest boy thing ever."

"Don't say that." Christine frowns. "Don't... talk about boy things. Kyrie, are you sure you never heard anyone say those words before?"

"Yeah." Kyrie scratches her head. "Pretty sure. Please don't be cross with me, Mother."

"I'm not!" Christine eyes her anxiously. "I'm... sure it was just a dream. Okay, get dressed, baby."

Christine helps Kyrie dress herself in silence for a few minutes, then gets out her phone and makes a call.

*

"Thank you so much for coming by, Tom." Christine wrings her hands.

"Of course." Thomas stares at Kyrie with concern as she draws a picture of Elle. "Least I can do Christine, you know how much I love to visit little Kyrie. Well, there's no sign of forced entry, nothing outside her window, no footprints, no evidence of a struggle in her room... Nothing. No... you know. Semen, or anything. Sorry, I'm at a loss."

"She said she was raped!" Christine whispers. "She used that word specifically, rape! And so many other awful, awful things. I couldn't bear to even listen to everything she said."

"That is... extremely troubling," Thomas mutters. "But, she did say it was a dream, right?"

"Have you ever heard of an eight year old girl having a dream like that? Learning words in a dream, is that even possible? What if she's just, I don't know, confused? What if something happened to her?"

"Hey, Christine, come on." Thomas squeezes her shoulder. "I'm sure nothing remotely like that happened. It was a dream. Are you absolutely certain she didn't know those words already, before last night?"

"Yes!" Christine starts tearing up. "Of course she didn't! How could... Unless, Oh God, do you think she was abused even before last night? Like, like one of those uh... repressed memories, or something? Did..." Christine starts crying. "Tom, did somebody rape my baby girl?"

"No, of course not!" Thomas pulls her into a hug. "Jesus, no. No. Okay? Absolutely not, and there's no evidence to suggest that at all. I just thought maybe, you know, a sexually explicit book, for example? Maybe she read something graphic and it gave her a nightmare."

"I don't think so." Christine wipes her eyes and sniffles. "I'll search her room just in case, but she doesn't have anything like that. I may not be the best mother in the world, but I don't leave hardcore porn lying around my daughter's room, Tom."

"I'm not suggesting otherwise, but... in that case, we've reached the limit of my ability to help. I'm sure it was just a dream. Maybe she saw or heard something that gave her a nightmare, maybe not. Either way, a doctor or therapist would be better equipped to help you. Or a priest."

"Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tom. Kyrie, come say goodbye."

Kyrie gets up from her drawing table and stands next to Christine.

"Bye, Sheriff Thomas." Kyrie gives him a polite smile and waves.

Thomas chuckles and tips his hat. "Goodbye, miss Kyrie. Be a good girl for your mother, okay?"

Kyrie gives him a small smile and nods.