Page 13 of Finish Line

I collapse back to the cold floor. He won. I won’t be able to fight him if he tries again to hypnotize me. It scares me to think about what he could make me do.

In my weakened state, I lie still for hours, when the floor creaks upstairs, either Evan or Roger. Strangely, I hope for Roger. Evan makes me sick, and it’s only a matter of time before he rapes me.

Boots come down the steps and stop in front of me.

I let my eyes tip up. Roger stands over me. At least, I think it’s him.

“God, you’re a mess. Why are you bleeding?”

My mouth is too dry to answer him.

He bends down and picks me up by my neck. “Answer me.”

I lick my cracked lips. “Period.”

Releasing my neck, he grabs my hair and says, “Dimitte, tuum meum.”

Worn down, I can’t fight him.

He bends, takes a key out of his pocket, and unlocks the chain around my ankle.

I’m following him upstairs when I realize this is different than all the other times.

Unlike before, I can see what’s going on around me, but when I try to move my arms, they don’t work. Part of my mind is in a steel cage with bars. I can see out but can’t escape from.

The other times he hypnotized me, it was like my mind was in a locked windowless room, then I would go to sleep and wake up the next day extremely tired. I had no knowledge of what happened in between. Days later, bits and pieces popped up in my memory, almost like a dream.

“Come on.” He drags me through the sparse living room and down a hall into a bathroom.

“Get in,” he commands, shoving me into the shower.

I can’t do anything but obey him.

He turns on the water, blasting me with freezing cold water. It takes a while before it warms up, but in my hypnotized state, I can’t enjoy it.

He takes soap and rubs his hands together to build up the lather. Inside, I scream at him to get his hands off me as he rubs them all over my body. Every time his hand touches me, my stomach rolls.

A grunt escapes me.

Roger stops cleaning me and tilts his head as his eyes bore into mine.

“Are you fighting in there, Monkey? It won’t work.” He laughs as he turns off the water.

“I have a fun time planned for us tonight. You won’t let me down,” Roger whispers into my ear and dries me off.

He dresses me in all black. Shit, he’s got a job for me.

He bends down and puts ballet slippers on my feet.

Everything in me wants to smack that smile off his face. Not being able to talk or move is harder than having blank spots in my memory.

He sits me down in the kitchen and warms up a huge plate of spaghetti and puts it in front of me.

“Eat.”

I dig in. Other than bread, this is the first nutritional food I’ve had even if it’s the worst spaghetti I’ve ever eaten. I think it’s even worse than the first time I made spaghetti and overcooked it.

At this point, I don’t care. It’s food.

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