Page 14 of Blood Spilled
He enters again, holding a bucket, a wash rag and a small bottle of soap. “Go ahead and clean yourself the best you can.”
He stays in the room the whole time, watching me clean myself and doesn't look away until slinging the wash rag back in the bucket.
“Should I check if you missed any spots?”
I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “Can I have something to dry myself with?”
He lifts a brow and then looks behind him. “Already tired of your new book?” He tsks, shaking his head. “That's no way to treat the gifts I bring you. I think you can air dry today.”
“You're not serious.” I glare at him.
“Either you get a towel or your cheese burger. You choose?”
My pulse pounds in my ears. “I can air dry.”
“That's what I thought. See you for dinner, mi moscato.” Turning around, he picks the book up from the floor and tosses it my way before disappearing behind the door I’ve spent way too much of my time staring at, patiently waiting for it to open again.
Later comes but he doesn't. Someone else enters instead, bringing me a few books and a giant cheeseburger. My mouth waters at the sight of it and the moment I sink my teeth in, I’m slipping away into my own euphoria. Of course, it's nothing compared to the one Angel took me to last time he was in here, but it's pretty damn close. It doesn't take me long to devour my food and I soon regret not taking my time when my stomach begins to twist in pain.
I press my hands to my stomach, swallowing hard to keep my food from coming back up. I lay on my side, curled in a ball, staring at the books in front of me. At least they don't appear to be more bibles. Instead of reaching for them, I close my eyes and doze off.
When I open my eyes again, Angel is staring down at me, holding the books I was brought earlier. “You haven’t touched your new books yet. Maybe I can read one to you. Would you like that, little mouse?”
I move into a sitting position and scoot my bottom closer to the opening of the cage. “Yes, Master.”
His beaming eyes show me the sense of power that title gives him, and him sitting on the floor within touching is the first sign of the beginning of trust. I didn’t try to run when he left the room last time he was here so maybe he's testing the waters more to see if he really has me where he wants me. I want him to think he can keep letting his guard down. I need him to feel he can leave me alone more and allow me more freedom.
I want him to think he has turned me into a true, obedient little pet who can no longer think for himself, but only for his Master. He sets down the stack of books, all except the one fromthe top. When he lifts it in front of his face, I’m able to see the title better. He’s reading me Lord of the Flies. I’m not sure if this is another way to mock me or if it was chosen at random. His smile peeking out from behind the pages tells me it's intentional. “Have you read this book before, pet?”
I shake my head, because I never have. I was only allowed to read very selective books while growing up. Reading was never supposed to be something viewed as fun or seen as an escape. My father used to say my head remained buried in the clouds enough as it is. I didn’t need books about magical dragons who talked to further distract me from reality. When he found a copy of The Great Gatsby under my pillow, he took it and tossed it out the nearby window.
Angel scoots even closer, flipping past the first few pages. When he starts reading, I find myself listening way more than I thought I would. I soak in every word and close my eyes, imagining I’m one of these boys stranded on an island. I drift so far into this other world, I can almost smell the ocean and feel the sand between my toes. He keeps reading and I continue escaping into someone else's nightmare and horror.
After a while, he stops and when I open my eyes, I’m back in the same room as before, leaning against the cage. He sets the book on top of the others and releases a long sigh. “That’s enough reading for now. How about some lunch?”
My stomach grumbles at his words, bringing a laugh from him. “Sounds like your stomach likes the sound of that, but you have to use your words también.”
“Yes. I’m very hungry, Master.” My words come out shaky and raspy, reminding me how dry my throat is. “Could I also get something hot for my throat?”
He tilts his head. “I suppose I can do that. How about some tea?”
“Yes, tea would be perfect.”
“You aren’t going to try and throw it at me, are you?”
Shaking my head, I crawl closer to him. “No, Master. I will be a good little pet, just like you want,” I say mockingly.
He laughs. “Sure, you will. But I’ll play for a bit and entertain the idea.”
Angel walks out the door and leaves it wide open, allowing me to see a bit into his house. I can't see much, only a little of the red painted wall of the hallway and some of the room across the way that appears to be an office. Is that where he sits and watches me? When I hear him walk past my room, I always wonder if he is walking to his bedroom or somewhere else. Looks like I may have my answer now.
While I’m too busy trying to get a better view of the hallway. Forgetting the chain only allows me to go so far, I get yanked back by the cuffs on my wrist and ankle as I crawl my way across the floor. I haven't tried to get up again in days and really need to regain my strength if I want to get out of here. I crawl back toward the cage and put all my weight on it as I get to my feet.
My body sways back and forth when I first let go of the bars, making me quickly grab onto them again. I flex my feet against the floor and try standing up straight again, this time succeeding. It feels like my heels are resting on pins and needles and my legs are trembling.
Before I can even take a few steps, Angel comes in holding two plates with sandwiches on them. “Standing up, are we?”
I nod before flopping back to the ground ungracefully. “Yes, I thought it would be good to try and stretch my legs a bit.”
