(little thing about two caregivers kidnapping you)
At night, you sleep suffocated in between them, two arms draped over you, bathed in their overpowering scent. You have learned to recognise it against your will, just as you have learned to recognise the sound of his boots stepping into the hallway, coming in from the cold, or the many songs that she mindlessly hums as she cooks. You recognise, also, the moment when they are finally asleep, her breathing soft and slow behind you, his chest falling up and down in a steady rhythm. The heavy arms that hold you slacken just a touch, and you feel brave enough to move, slowly shuffling up till you can sit.
In the dark, you squint at the bedroom door. It beckons you, beckons you to move a little closer, to slip out of bed and turn the doorknob. It could be so easy - after that, only a set of stairs and one more door between you and freedom.
But something keeps you firmly rooted. You know what would happen, really. As soon as that door opened, it would trigger the alarm. They would wake, startled, and rush to your side, hands grabbing at you before you could utter a word or make it down the hall.
Please, baby, come back to bed. She would say, on her knees, teary-eyed.
Come, now. Don't upset your mama. His stern voice. Don't be silly now.
You should be in bed.
There's nothing out there.
We've waited so long to find you.
Please don't cry.
Mama and papa love you.
You quickly sink back into the bed, heart beating a little faster.
He stirs, and you hold your breath for a moment, scanning his face. His hand seems to move automatically to your shoulder and then to your face, checking you over, even half-asleep. Then, he seems to wake a little more, eyes opening.
"(Name)?" He mutters softly. "What's wrong, bub?"
You say nothing, turning your face into the pillow.
"It's alright." He says, stroking your hair. "Tell papa."
The tenderness in his voice makes you squirm. It all feels different at night, harder to ignore or dismiss when he sounds so earnest. The hand on your hair feels nice but you push it away anyway, and then bury yourself further into the bed.
He sighs, and shifts a little.
"I know you don't understand yet." He says softly. "But this is the safest you can be, the safest you've ever been."
You don't want to hear it. Stubbornly, you put your hands over your ears. You turn your head to peek at him a little, and you can see him chuckle, shoulders shaking.
After a moment, he pulls the covers up to your shoulders, and you finally close your eyes, waiting for sleep to take you.