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It felt like hours went by as I continued to tell him about my life. I told him how I felt, watching my adoptive mother look at me with disgust when she found out what I did after school in my room all alone. I told him how my adoptive father blamed it on the devil but secretly knew he was to blame. I told him how drawing out my fantasies gave me a different rush and every time I drew a new creation, I snuck back to my room and stared at it while I fingered myself. I just let everything spill out of my mouth, not wanting to hold anything back from him.
He didn’t speak the whole time, and I was glad about it. There were no forced encouraging comments and remarks to make me feel better, just comfort in knowing that he hadn’t walked away and left me alone.
“What time is it?” Finley’s voice was hoarse, as though he were swallowing sandpaper.
Why did I find that so attractive?
I looked at the clock and saw it read 10:02 p.m.
“It’s ten o’clock.”
“You should go. It’s around this time that they change the aides who are supposed to be lookouts.”
The sound of rustling had me rising to my feet.He was leaving?I didn’t want him to go yet. I had gotten used to the warmth behind my back. We’d sat here together for hours and the whole time, I felt seen. I felt as though I was normal for once in my life, with the one person who protected me.
“Okay, but…” I called out to him before rummaging through my sweater pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. I don’t know what possessed me to give him one of my drawings. Was it the fact that I needed him to know that I was still his little Barbara, the girl who spent hours drawing in his room, under the bed as he shielded her from the darkness, day after day? For saving me? I don’t know, but the idea of giving it to him made my body warm all over.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, I unfolded the paper, smoothing it out until it was flat enough, and slid it underneath his door. “I hope that can keep you entertained for the next two weeks.” I turned to walk away but stopped. “You’re tethered to my soul too, Fin,” I whispered before retreating to my room.
My heart raced from two things.
One: I liked saying his name again.
And second: I just gave him a drawing of a unicorn dildo between my legs.
Chapter5
Fin
I. Wanted. Her.
For the last fourteen days, all I thought about was my Barbie.
The way her voice sounded like honey, smooth and endless, as she talked about herself. I sat with my back against the door the entire time. I imagined what her voice would sound like hoarse and begging me to fuck her. For fourteen days, I thought about her touching herself while I watched. She exposed her deepest, darkest secrets to me that night and all I wanted to do was extract more from her.
Locked in my room with no way of touching her, no way of hearing her…it made me go crazy with lust. If anyone dared to approach me today, I could say with full confidence that it would be their last day on this earth. Early in the morning on the fifteenth day, guards escorted me to therapy, and with the “okay” from Dr. Harkness, she cleared me to return to my normal room.
She was consumed by a twisted obsession for me, her lies like venomous poison dripping from her lips as she’d fabricated a false story to the police, shifting the blame onto an innocent patient in the psychiatric ward. Her devoted minions blindly followed suit, allowing her twisted falsehoods to poison their minds. She’d do anything to keep me here, under her heel, and not shipped off to some high security prison in the middle of nowhere, where I should have been long ago.Stupid bitches do stupid things.
My regular quarters were still in a secluded area of the large building, but restraints were no longer necessary. I waited until nightfall when the guards were less vigilant before leaving my room. The guards stationed in front of my door were told to leave, giving me just enough time to sneak out and find my Barbie. I walked quickly, knowing the aides were still walking around at this time at night.I was about to turn the corner leading to the next hallway when I spotted Dr. Harkness walking into a room. It didn’t take me long to realize that the room belonged to her son.So, the rumors were true. I guess she enjoyed fucking her son too.
I wished more than anything that I could record her in this moment. I wanted to capture the evidence of her sneaking around and use it against her. I wanted that leverage to make her do whatever I fucking wanted. But right now, I didn’t care about anything but finding my Barbie. What Harkness did with her son had nothing to do with me, so I continued on with my search.
I walked cautiously down the hall, unnoticed, before stopping dead in my tracks at the sound of a voice.
A voice so pure it made my blood run cold.
My Barbie.
Determined to find the source of the haunting voice, I made my way towards the showers. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I peered into each stall, searching for any signs of life. The rest of the bathroom lay empty, but a faint whisper emanated from the farthest stall. There were no curtains, so I could see every fucking inch of her as clear as day. My eyes scanned her curves, the way her wet golden hair fell to the middle of her back, and the scar on her right shoulder, the one I put there our last night together.
I remembered the memory as if it had happened yesterday. The sting of the knife digging into her flesh woke her up out of her sleep. Tears streamed down from her eyes, followed by fear. I licked her tears away, and then the blood that oozed from the cut. It was deep enough to leave a lasting mark. I needed to know how the blood that ran through her veins tasted before she was taken from me.
Another string of melodic words dripped off her tongue, breaking my trance, and I locked my eyes on her. She tilted her head up to the showerhead, taking in the water's warmth.
Silently, I inched closer, making sure not to alert her of my presence. I wasn’t ready for her to know that I was here with her, not yet.
The flawless skin of her body ignited a ferocious desire within me. I yearned to leave my mark on her once more, to ravage her succulent flesh with my teeth and taste the tangy blood dripping from each wound. I craved to etch my name onto her inner thigh, a scarlet reminder that she belonged to me, so that every time she touched her cunt, she’d be reminded of my possession.
