Page 25 of Wraith

Chapter Twenty-Four

I’ve triedto keep track of the days as best as I can. If I’m right, I have been here nearly three years. Three years of being taken to and from a cell much like the one I’m in now. The man that killed my daddy, who I now know to be Roman, drug me from that room and made me sit in the corner of his office each day with only a bowl of water to drink from like a dog. That was how I counted the days. I would find myself sleeping in that corner as people came in and out, meeting with Roman. It was just days ago that Roman gave me to someone. Gave me away like I was apuppy.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart. There is work to be done today.” A voice cuts into the room. A voice I have heard in my nightmares. The man who was holding my father back that day, the day everything fell apart, gripping his shoulder so he couldn’t get to me. Shaking, I try to meld myself to the thin dirty mattress on the floor, as if I can hide from the footsteps drawing closer, but it doesn’t help. His hand shoots out and grips my hair, dragging me to my feet. “I knew you had some tits under there. Just needed to get you the proper clothing.” He lets a sinister grin spread across his ugly face as he hauls me from the room, almost ripping the new tee shirt I received. Right after I was put in this room, I woke up to find the tee shirt and a pair of stretchy pants lying next to my bed. I haven’t left this room in months and have yet to see my new owner since being thrown down here. I never have seen his face. Each time he came into Roman’s office I kept my head down as wasinstructed.

I’m afraid of what leaving this room means. I want to go back.Please let me go back.My feet scrape along the brick floor, my toenails breaking with each pull the man gives my hair. I sob out my protests, but he doesn’t listen. He only brings me closer to wherever it is we are going. We stop at a door, he tosses it open and discards me without another word before slamming itshut.

Landing on all fours, my face meets a pair of black leather boots tucked under a dark pair of jeans that lead to a tall man looking down at me with his arms crossed over a thick muscled chest. “Get up,” he instructs making me flinch at his words. So sharp, like razor blades scraping along my skin. It takes me a second to register what he is asking but he must grow impatient because he is reaching down to pluck me from the floor himself. His grip tightens on my arms as he hauls me to my feet, my face now level with his chest. The room is dim, only illuminated by one light, but with that one light I can see just enough. The dark hallows of his cheeks and under his eyes, almost as if he is the grim reaper himself, he looks like death. He might be tall and strong but something in his face tells me he is near death’s doorstep just as much as I am. Its then that it hits me who heis.

“What—”

“No questions. You are here for one reason,pet.” He sneers the word as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, shaking his head in annoyance. “You will obey. Nothing more, nothing less,” he snaps directing me toward a corner of the room. “Wash. You smell like piss.” He points at a large basin filled with water. A towel and a bar of soap on top lying next to it on the floor. Before I can attempt to question any further he is out the door, slamming it behind him as he goes. I waste no time. Padding toward the basin, I reach my hand down into the water and I’m surprised to find it warm. It’s not hot, but it will certainly do. Stripping down I toss my clothes aside and crawl into the tub. Its small but I fit just enough to get myself completely wet. The soap is an added bonus I would never expect. I attempt to scrub away the year’s worth of grime causing my skin to turn bright red from my fingers having to scrape away the impeded dirt. The only means I had of cleansing before was the spray of a cold hose. I find myself smiling at the luxury of being clean for once, but the happiness doesn’t last long before the door opens again and he walks back inside carrying something in his hand. I can’t tell what it is but when I try to get out of the bath his sharp demanding voice halts my movements. “Stay. Lean your head back,” he orders now stepping behind me. Hesitantly I do as he says and find myself looking up at the dark ceiling. Seconds later a buzzing flicks on and his hand goes to my head to hold it still. Something connects with my scalp. Its then I realize he is shaving my head. I immediately try to pull away but he holds me firm. “Your hair is beyond help. You can grow it back,” he barks yanking me back into place as he continues. The memory of being dragged by my hair just minutes ago to this room enters my mind and I decide that if I don’t have the hair then maybe I won’t be drug around like a rag doll. This might not be sobad.

When he is done he orders me to finish washing as he gathers up my once long and beautiful hair and leaves the room again. It isn’t until hours later that he comes back, this time bringing food and more clothes. I happily get dressed and eat, all while he stands in the room watching me. It sends chills down my spine the way he does so. Like he is trying to solve the puzzle that is me. He must not realize that the puzzle is by far the easiest one in history, yet he still stares. As the days pass, I find myself not minding. In fact, I find it comforting each day as he comes into my room and stands in the same spot watching me. Sometimes he brings things for me to read, sometimes he brings things to color, other times it’s just food. Still, he doesn’t speak any words and his jaw is always set in a firm unmovablegrit.

I came to look forward to his visits, until one day he stoppedcoming.

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