Page 58 of Lost Petal

So I stay on the bench, folding my hands in my lap as my eyes rest on her, attentive for any sort of reaction she may show on her face.

“Do you know what he does to me?” I ask. “Do you know how he treats me? Did he do the same to you?”

She still refuses to look at me, but I still catch a much-needed reply.

She’s shaking her head.

“I see,” I utter in response. “So he came up with this specific way of torture just for me, huh. Blinding euphoria and agonizing darkness by keeping me locked away, with no access to answers.”

My lower lip starts trembling as I feel another gush of tears forcing their way out.

I point up to the window behind my back. “Do you know what I did up there? I wasn’t trying to find a way to escape, if that’s what you—or he—are thinking. I was looking for light! For air! For anything from the outside that would at least tell me what time of day it is. Anything! That’s how desperate I am!”

My voice begins to break, and I hate it. I didn’t want to cry, not again. But every time I let myself be confronted with the harsh reality of my situation, I can’t help it. I’m so scared, so hopeless and sad—and she may be the only one who can help me, but she refuses to even talk to me.

“I just want to know,” I go on. “I just want to know who I am, and why I’m here. I want to know why he’s doing this to me, why he keeps shutting my mind by the way he talks to me, the way he... touches me. It feels good, too good, because it’s so fucking wrong!”

She shutters, turning her back to me as she spins on her heels, scurrying toward the door.

“I can’t take this much longer!” I yell after her, almost shrieking in my despair. “I’m going crazy! I’m going to lose it. You-you just tell him that! This is not going to end w—”

I’m cut off by the door being slammed shut after she has literally fled the room.

Leaving me alone with my tears.

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