Page 32 of Eat Me

I know I need to pull myself together before someone comes to check on me again. I can’t let them see how deeply shaken I am. But no matter what I do, every time I try to compose myself, fresh waves of horror and revulsion wash over me.

How are they able to do something so monstrous and act like it’s normal? How do they expect me to ever accept that as a ‘way of life’? The idea of it makes bile rise in my throat.

“Everything’s fine,” I mutter to myself, making myself uncurl from the position I’ve been in for hours. I have a feeling whoever’s going to be delivering me food is going to want to havea talk or at least gauge how I’m doing. The last thing I want to do is talk. I’m drained on every level.

Stretching out my stiff limbs, I wince at the ache in my muscles from being curled up for so long. My mind feels numb, overwhelmed by everything that’s happening and already happened. Part of me wants to just shut down, to retreat into myself and pretend none of this is real. But I know that isn't an option. I’ve got to stay alert and focused if I want to survive. I can't afford to appear weak or vulnerable, even though I'm falling apart inside. The image of Amber's mutilated body keeps flashing through my mind, making my stomach churn.

The sound of footsteps approaching my cell makes me tense. I take a deep breath, and steel myself for whatever’s coming next. Straightening my spine, both physically and mentally, I force my face into what I'm hoping is a neutral expression. Just in time for the door to open. Owen appears carrying a tray of food. His blue eyes are quick to scan and assess me.

"How are you feeling Sweetheart?" Unbelievable how he’s able to make his voice deceptively gentle as he walks closer to me. I shrug, not trusting myself to speak. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how shaken I truly am.

Owen sighs, running a hand through his blond hair before crouching to my level, and setting the tray down to the side. "I know this has been difficult for you," he said softly. "But you've done remarkably well so far, sweetheart. Better than we expected, honestly."

I let out a harsh laugh, unable to hold back my bitterness. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That I’ve managed not to completely fall apart while watching you torture someone then kill them right in front of me?"

I take a shuttering breath, eyes narrowing, “This is the second person killed in front of me….” I trail off my voice having takena soft tone as their faces came to my mind. I don’t think I would ever forget them.

Owen's eyes hardened slightly. "It wasn't just about watching, Victoria. It’s about seeing how you would react under extreme stress. And you showed impressive composure and strength." He was still crouching in front of me, making me feel even smaller as his form is much bigger than my own.

“Also, death is something you will get used to in time…” The way he said that to me makes me want to hit him. I didn’t want to get used to death and blood.

Shaking my head, disgust churning in my stomach. "I don't want your praise for that. What you did was monstrous…and I don’t want to be anything like you to talk so casually about other human beings like that.”

Owen's eyes flash dangerously at my words. "Be careful, sweetheart. Watch your words." He reached out and grasped my chin firmly, forcing me to meet his gaze. "We've been patient with you so far, but don't mistake that patience for weakness."

I try jerking away from his touch, but his grip like iron. "Let go of me," I hiss, glaring at him defiantly.

Owen's lips curve into a cold smile. "Such fire," he murmurers. "It's one of the things we like about you. But you need to learn when to rein it in." His thumb brushes across my lower lip, making me shudder. "We can be very generous to those who please us. But we can also be incredibly cruel to those who defy us. You've seen that firsthand now."

I bit my lip, forcing myself to take a deep breath. As much as I want to lash out, I know it’d only be making things worse. I’ve got to stay alert, stay rational and most of all, stay calm.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice is barely above a whisper; anger is still swimming in me and the words leaving a bad taste in my mouth. "I just... I don't understand. How do you expect me to accept all of this? To be okay with murder and torture?"

Owen sighs, his expression softening slightly. "We don't expect you to accept it all at once. It takes time to adjust to our way of life. But you've shown so much potential already. With time and guidance, you’ll truly thrive here."

Shaking my head, feeling tears filling my eyes but I manage to push them back. No crying in front of these men. I don't want to give them that kind of power over me.

"But... I don't want to thrive here." I whisper, my voice cracking slightly despite all my efforts to stay sounding composed. “I want to go home; I may sound like a broken record…but that’s all I want. To go home and forget about all of this."

Owen's grip on my chin loosens slightly, his thumb brushing my cheek in what I suppose is meant to be a comforting gesture. All it does is make my skin crawl. "This is your home now, Victoria," he says softly. "The sooner you accept that; the easier things will be for you in the long run."

Closing my eyes and taking a shaky breath, I fight back the wave of despair that threatens to overwhelm me. When I open them once again, Owen’s watching me intently. His blue eyes are searching my face, "And if I can't accept it? What then? Will I end up like Amber?"

A flash of something - anger? Disappointment? Crosses Owen's face before he’s able to school his expression and smooth it out. "We have no desire to harm you, sweetheart…but you have to behave and live by the rules of our family if you become a part of it.”

There’s a pause as he leans forward, his voice soft as he says, "You're stronger than you realize, Victoria.” I jolt at the use of my name. I got used to being called nicknames and not my real name. “You've already survived so much. Most people would have broken by now."

"Maybe I am broken," I whisper, feeling myself pull back and go inside my head. I’m not sure if this family will be the death of me…. deep down I think they'll be the cause of the death of my humanity or my actual death. "Maybe I'm just too numb to feel it yet."

"That fire in you, that spark of defiance - it's part of what drew us to you in the first place. We don't want to extinguish it completely. Just... temper it. Channel it in moreproductiveways." Owen's eyes darken as he continues to study me, “But you are not broken.”

Looking away, unable to hold his intense gaze any longer and with my voice nothing more than a whisper, "I don't want to be what you all want me to be. I don't want to become someone who can watch torture and murder without flinching."

Owen sighs, his hand moving to cup my cheek. I fought the urge to pull away. "It's not about becoming numb to it, Victoria. It's about understanding the necessity of it. The strength it takes to do what needs to be done."

Feeling the bile once again threating to rise, I shake my head. Focusing on the disgust and anger warring inside me instead. Pushing it away as I try to keep the venom out of my voice, "There's nothing necessary about what you did to Amber. That was you all being cruel for no reason. ."

Owen's eyes harden, “You may think that, but you’ll see there’s a reason for everything we do. I can’t make you change your way of thinking with one conversation. It’s something that happens over time.”

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