Priceless // for KING & COUNTRY

Nila

I wake to the shouting of men. I fly upright in bed, looking around my room frantically. My room is just like I remember it... walls of a dull, peeling paint, a carpet that used to be white but is now some shade of tan, and my bed, complete with a fading pink comforter and worn pillow. In the corner, I see my favorite... and only doll, beautiful despite the long hours of wear she's been through, and my nearly-empty dresser. But something isn't right.

I get up, creeping to the door and downstairs through the darkness of the house.

My small feet make no sound on the floor, and, in my faded black pajamas, my tiny form is going to be nearly invisible.

The yelling gets louder as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

The minute I round the corner, I'm hit by the smell of smoke and something horrible I can't name, and the sight of my parents joined by a few people I don't know, drinking out of dark bottles and shouting at each other. They seem to be having fun... they're laughing and shouting like they are. But something about them scares me at the same time.

I'm about to give in to my nervousness and go back upstairs, when my father's eyes lock onto me. I take a step back, but he's not going to let me go.

"Nila!" Why does he sound so angry? "What the **** are you doing out of bed?"

"I... I heard shouting..." I stutter, my small voice shaking in fear.

"**** it, child," my mother snaps. "You can't let us have one ******* night in peace."

"I'm sorry!" I protest, taking another step backwards, but tripping on the stairs and falling down. I'm too scared to cry. "I'll go back to bed."

"Not yet you won't," my dad growls. "Not until you've learned your lesson, little ****. Now get over here."

I'm scared to obey, but I'm more scared of him getting even more angry when I don't. Slowly, I get to my feet and cross the room to stand in front of him. I feel even smaller than I always do standing in the midst of them.

Dad gets to his feet, towering above me, and I flinch away.

He obviously notices the action, and smiles. But it isn't a happy look.

He bends down to my level, but it only seems to make him seem that much taller than me. And, without warning, he brings his hand across my face. I crumple, crying out in pain. The people around us laugh, and my father slams his boot into my tiny body. I cry out again, tears beginning to stream down my face. I scramble to my feet and start to run upstairs, but Dad yanks me back sharply.

"I'm not finished with you yet, you little ****!" he snaps.

"Please!" I squeak, trying to pull away, but he hits me across the face again, and I stop struggling.

"You little ****, why'd you ever have to be born?" he snarls. "We tried to get rid of your ****, but no." He hesitates, glancing at his companions. "What do y'all say? Up for a little fun tonight?"

The people, Mom, another woman, and another man, all chuckle.

"I'm not gonna say no to an invitation like that," the man says at last, and the woman raises her bottle.

"I second that statement."

My dad nods, and his gaze is turned back on me. "Nila, take you clothes off."

I come awake with a start, flying upright in bed.

I'm in a cold sweat, and it seems my entire body aches, though I know I've done nothing to make it that way.

And, slowly, the dream fades back into my memory.

Why? I thought that three nights ago was a one-time thing.

Apparently, it wasn't.

Except tonight was so much worse.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the memory of the dream, the images that try to fill my head again. How... how is this happening?

I don't have that kind of thing in my head to dream. At least... I didn't think I did. But apparently, I do.

I don't get it. This shouldn't be happening. I don't know where this is coming from.

But... it's fine. It shouldn't affect anything. I mean, yeah, nightmares suck, but it's not like they actually matter, right?

Right. I'm fine. I need to stop freaking out.

I check my phone, and see that it's already five-fifteen. I might as well get up. I'm not real keen on going back to sleep after that, anyway.

A hot shower doesn't help me feel better as much as I was hoping it was. My head is throbbing for some reason, and I'm still fighting back the memory of the dream.

I do my makeup in my room and get my stuff together, going downstairs hesitantly. I know my dad will have breakfast waiting... he always does when he's home... but my twisting stomach is in no mood to eat right now.

Sure enough, the light's on in the kitchen when I get downstairs. Since Dad's my ride to school, there's really no avoiding him.

Since when do you want to avoid your father?

I meant avoiding breakfast.

Trying to shove the thoughts away, I walk into the kitchen, dropping my backpack on the floor and taking a seat on one of the bar stools.

Dad looks over his shoulder with a ready smile.

"Good morning, Love."

I force my own in return. "Morning."

He finishes up whatever he's making and comes over with two plates, setting one in front of me and keeping the other as he sits down as well.

Usually, this is my favorite time of day... just him and me, eating breakfast together, and then in the car when he takes me to school. With the boys and everything, it's one of the only times we get to really talk. But today, I'm so distracted that it's hard to enjoy it.

And the sight of the eggs and toast Dad fixed makes me sick.

He prays quietly, and then looks up at me, picking up his fork. I force myself to do the same.

"How'd you sleep, Darling?" he asks.

"Good." I hope that wasn't as desperately-fast as it sounded to me. "Um... yeah. I slept well."

"Good," he replies uncertainly, his eyes looking me up in down in concern. "Did you get your homework done last night?"

He takes a bite of food as he finishes, reminding me that I should probably do the same. "Yeah," say, putting a small piece of eggs onto my fork. "I mean, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be."

"That's good," he repeats as I force myself to put the bite in my mouth. It feels like slime going down. "How's Luna?"

I force a smile. "Oh, you know, she's as amazing as ever."

"What about Katherine?" he presses.

I shrug. He knows Katherine hates me for reasons unbeknown to me, and he's always checking to make sure she doesn't take things too far.

"Honestly, I haven't really seen her this week," I tell him. "She's got a new boyfriend, so he's taking all her attention."

He nods, a sad look in his eyes. On one hand, he hates the way she treats me, but I know he also really wants to win her to the Lord and show her, her worth.

"How'd writing go yesterday?" I ask, eager to divert the attention off of me.

He smiles ruefully. "We didn't get much done. But we prayed a lot."

I incline my head simply. "I mean, that's important too."

"Absolutely," he agrees, finishing the last of his meal in the same moment we hear Leo crying upstairs. "I'm going to run and get him and let your mother rest," Dad says, getting up. "I'll be right back."

I nod in agreement, and he disappears upstairs. Frantically, I look around for some way to get rid of my breakfast without him knowing.

As unoriginal as it may be, the only option I have time for is the trashcan. Swiftly, I walk over, stepping on the pedal, and scrape my food inside. I've just gotta pray that no one's looking when they throw stuff away for the rest of the day.

Dad returns with Leo just as I'm rinsing our plates. He's gotten him quiet by the time I'm done, and he glances at the clock.

"I think he might sleep for another hour if I put him back," Dad says, glancing down at my nearly-asleep baby brother. "I'll run him upstairs, and then we can go."

I nod in agreement, putting on my boots and replacing my backpack, then checking my makeup using my phone's reflection.

Everything's just like it's supposed to be. And yet, I still manage to look horrible.

What the heck is wrong with me today? I'm freaking Luke Smallbone's daughter. Little Miss Priceless. I need to get it together already.

Dad returns from downstairs and we head out to the car. I buckle in, and he pulls out, with Jamie Grace's "Hold Me" playing on the radio. As it finishes and switches to the Wally Show, Dad reaches out and turns it down, so that it's just background noise.

"So," he says, glancing at me. "You were up a bit earlier than usual."

I struggle to look casual. "Oh yeah... I just woke up, I guess. I don't know why."

"You just woke up?" he presses lightly. His tone makes it obvious that it's less the excuse and more the way I presented it that has him doubting me.

I shrug. "Um... yeah. I guess."

"You sure you slept alright?" he asks gently. "You're a little..." He hesitates. "I don't know... off... this morning, Love."

Of course, he would notice.

"Yeah, I just have a headache," I reply simply. It's not a lie.

"Oh, gotcha. You want something for it?"

I shake my head. "I'm good. It should go away. Thanks, though."

"And you're sure that's all?" he asks gently.

I nod quickly. "Yeah. Positive."

He doesn't look convinced. "You haven't had any more nightmares, have you?"

"Oh..." I hesitate for what I know is just a second too long. "No. No, I don't know what was up with that, but I haven't had anymore."

"Are you sure?" Dad questions tenderly. "Love, you're not very good at lying."

I sigh. "I mean..." There's no use. "I guess that might have been what woke me up this morning."

"Yeah?" he asks. "You remember it this time?"

"Not really."

He glances at me sidelong, but doesn't push on that note.

"I'm sorry, Darling," he says finally.

I shrug. "It's not a big deal."

"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth the first time?" The question isn't accusatory... it's tender and sincere. But it still makes my stomach twist in guilt.

"I... I just didn't want you to worry," I mutter, staring at the floor.

"It worries me more when you lie to me," he replies gently.

"I know," I sigh. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Love," he says seriously. "But you know you can talk to me about anything, don't you?"

"Yeah, Dad, of course I do."

We pull into the school parking lot, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"As long as you do," he sighs as he pulls up on the circle drive. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"And what are you worth?" he presses, just like he does every day.

I can't help but smile. "More than all the money in the world."

"Don't forget it," he tells me, a slight smile on his own face. "I'll see you tonight."