Page 2 of Unhallowed

Thankfully, all he does is stare as I replace my clothing, but it still sends a shiver down my spine from the way his eyes are trailing up and down my body. It’s like he wants to reach out and touch me with them. Fuck me with them.

Let him.

No.

The voices in my head don’t stop as they try to convince me of what to do, what not to do. But I choose the last one, no longer feigning nonchalance. I want to claw his eyes out despite what I was feeling just a second ago. It’s too bad I don’t have a fucking knife, but I bet I could find one if I tried hard enough. Just not down here.

“I will claw your eyes out if you keep looking at me that way,” I tell him with a grin, and he narrows his eyes on me. He takes a small step back, knowing I’d probably do it. No, Iwoulddo it.

“Just finish getting dressed, little girl,” he replies condescendingly.

I make quick work of tying my shoes and stand again, waiting for further instructions. He looks pensive for a moment, and for a split second I’m scared he’s changed his mind. Then again, maybe it’s for the best. Where would I go? How would I survive? Where the fuck even am I? How would I get out of here?

I haven’t been to the outside world since I was eleven. I haven’t seen the fucking sun in that long. Do I even remember where I live? How to get around? It’s probably changed a lot. The neighborhood could look entirely different at this point.

Jonah tips his chin toward the door and my legs almost buckle from the nerves. Regardless, I take deep breaths and force myself to put one foot after the other until I start walking up the stairs. When I get to the last one, though… I stop and look back. My hands shake slightly, and all the bravery I was feeling moments ago slips from my dirty fingers.

It wasn’t that bad down there. Yeah, it was dark, but I was fed, clothed, and left alone. No one bothered me except for Jonah a few times a day. Even that was nice…right? I can pretend none of this happened, that he didn’t tell me I could leave, and go right back to my safe sanctuary.

“Move,” he growls, grabbing my arm and yanking me through the doorway.

“Wait.” I lick my lips, unsuccessfully digging my heels into the hardwood floor right past the doorway. Fucking shoes with no grip. “I want to stay.”

“Unfortunately for you, little girl, you don’t have a choice in this one.”

“But where will I go?” I raise my voice, resisting, finding my strength again. “How can you just throw me out?”

“Throw you out?” He laughs, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Whoever said anything about that?”

“You said I’m leaving,” I reply slowly, “That you’re letting me go.”

His grin is malicious as he levels me with a look that scares me. “No.” I shake my head in denial, more fear. He can probably smell it emanating from my pores at this point. “I said you’re leaving. But no one is letting you go, Angel.”

My limbs lock up at his confession, and the urge to bolt renews itself. Something is wrong here, I feel it deep in the marrow of my bones. But what exactly could it—

Jonah’s fist connects with my temple, making me rear back and my ears ring, and I fall to the ground, disoriented. He quickly picks me up, shuts the door to the basement and carries me somewhere else. There are stars behind my eyelids that won’t disappear whether my eyes are open or closed. It. Fucking.Hurts.

“Whyyyyy?” I whine.

“Shut up, girl,” he growls. “You need to unlearn how to speak, because the people who you’re going with won’t put up with your shit.”

I struggle more, flailing my limbs every which way to try to get free. My attempts are futile though. “Let me go!” I scream, hoping someone will come to my rescue. But who am I kidding? Everyone hates me here. That’s why I’ve been trapped in my foster parents’ basement. Because I have refused to become religious like them, refused to be passionate about God like them. I’m the ugly duckling, the odd one out. Always have been. Apparently, I was too much of a bad influence to stick around my siblings. Not to mention, my adoptive mother and father feel no love for me. They couldn’t be bothered with me.

I’m nothing.

No one.

Disrespectful, they’ve called me.

A whore.

“You will learn soon that living in this basement was a mercy.” He chuckles, his body vibrating against mine. It makes me sick, as bile rises to the back of my throat. “And I promise you will miss it.”

“The fuck I will.” But I know deep down, it’s possible.

“I knew you had a mouth on you.” I glare at him in disgust, but he doesn’t even look at me as he walks through the house and to the front door. “But it won’t serve you now.”

Jonah turns the knob and pushes the front door open, making the sunlight shine right on my face. I immediately close my eyes, more like slamming them shut, scrunching them. It hurts worse than the punch to the face, and that’s saying something. Heat builds behind my closed lids, a burn unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, and I can’t tell if it’s from the sun or unshed tears. Or both.

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