Page 109 of A Dark Melody

Wes crawls in beside me. I desperately want a Xanax but there is a chance if I have one now, I don’t wake up in time for the show.

Wes starts to rub my head as I lay there on my back.

“It soothes me to rub your head like this.” He admits even though it sounds a bit silly, and I scoot closer to him. “I fell asleep doing this last night.”

“I was wondering why you didn’t move to the couch.” I tease.

“Plus, it’s just so damn relaxing to be next to you.”

“Wes?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I know.” He kisses the side of my head. “It’s hard for you to accept good things because you’ve only ever known shit. But you deserve good Abbey, and I’m going to give it to you.”

“Thank you.” I move, turning to snuggle into his side. He puts his arm around me.

“Get some sleep.”

I wake up to Sue’s voice calling down the bunk. Wes stirs beside me, his arm wrapped around me, my head on his chest. I sit up.

“That was peaceful.” He groans, stretching.

“Yes.”

“Feeling a little better?”

“Yeah. Now it’s time to eat.”

“Okay but first let’s talk prizes. I was thinking of bringing up the party tonight.”

“Sure. But I want something from you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, intrigued.

“I want to suck your dick.”

“Oh man. I’m going to have to think about that one.” His voice dips playfully. “Okay. Deal. You eat all your dinner, and I’ll let you suck my dick.”

I smile and crawl over him. I sit straddling him for a minute and he looks up at me. I rock my hips once, then once again. He bites his lip.

“Let’s eat.” I climb off him.

“You’re an evil girl.” He chuckles.

When we walk out to the common area, the warm scent of pasta fills the air. It makes my stomach twist with anticipation. I can’t remember the last time I ate pasta, if ever. This was going to be hard, but of course, Sue wouldn’t make it easy to gain any bit of freedom.

We take a seat next to each other at the table that is polished and shiny, like it’s just been cleaned. Leave it to Sue to make a clean surface for my torture.

I can see round metal containers sitting on the counter. I can’t peel my eyes off them. They are huge compared to thesandwiches I’m used to. They hold a lot of food. This is clearly some kind of punishment for throwing up earlier. This is going to be hell to get through.

Sue picks up the containers and walks over to us. I can’t look away. It’s like a train accident about to happen, and I’m the unwitting victim.

She places one container in front of me, and I stare at it, as she sets another in front of Wes. I see her slide into the booth across from us with a container for herself, out of the corner of my eyes, my eyes too concerned at the container in front of me to pay attention to much else.

“Before she eats.”

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