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Yes, Mae. Or he’ll throw you in that abhorrent darkness.
A shaky sigh leaves the recess of my soul as I place the tray on the floor.
I need a hug. A long, soothing hug.
Crawling into the blanket, I pull my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“It’s okay, Mae. You’ll be all right.”
Even as I say the words aloud, tears continue soaking my cheeks. I’m only fooling myself.
Mum always told me not to cry myself to sleep, but she isn’t here. Her calming words can’t reach me anymore. It aches like tiny needles piercing into my heart. They’re not enough to kill me, but they’re sufficient to make me wish I died already.
Slumber whisks me away, saving me from my depressive thoughts. I hug the blanket as if it’s a body.
When I wake up, I need to think of a way to survive while being under a psycho’s mercy.
. . . . .
Bloodshot eyes outlined by black circles greet me in the mirror.
I wince. What a mess.
None of my beauty products is here to help so I rely on a medical-smelling soap and water. There isn’t much difference after I wash my face. I couldn’t care less.
After using the toilet, I comb my entangled hair the best I can, and walk back to my solitary prison.
Once I crawl into the blanket, void weighs on my insides, shadowing all thoughts.
I hate being alone.
“Morning, bird.”
My attention snaps to the room’s door.
When the hell did he come in?
Mr gentleman psycho is wearing a dark brown suit. Italian cut. Tailored. I’ve picked many of Dad’s to recognise them. Only Aaron seems to wear them more for power and impact rather than business. He holds a plate in his hands, his relaxed expression suggests he’s out to have fun.
“Will you not greet me back?”
I open my mouth to retort with something smart but soon close it. He can have his own medicine. Two can play the silent game.
I focus elsewhere. Nowhere specific. Just not on him. The sense of his eyes digging a hole in the back of my head isn’t helping, though.
“The trick turned on me now?”
I huff but don’t answer. This power of silence feels good. No wonder he likes to toy people with it.
In your face, psycho!
“I thought you would want this, but perhaps not.”
A familiar smell tickles my nostrils. I spin around to find a plate full of mouth-watering little chocolate cake pieces, a breath away. I lick my lips, my stomach growls.
“I’ll leave then.” Aaron swirls away.
I clutch his arm, stopping him before he’s out of reach.
