I got one finger up, then a possible three. Had there been two pills after dinner? Or just one? Had there been more than that?
“Okay, thank you, little…Oakley. Thank you.” He paused, seeming to rethink whatever was going on in his mind. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
Wasn’t that more than three questions?
I slowly shook my head. I remember getting swatted so hard, that I fell into some sort of blank mindset. After that, it was kind of all blurry. I remembered being uncomfortable, but that was normal. I remembered Sir talking more, him telling me to not disappoint him.
There was someone, obviously, because Sir wasn’t here yelling at me. He wasn’t here dragging me out of bed.
Did this man hurt me in Sir’s place? That would explain why I felt so looped up and in pain. My butt was on fire, having a beating thump to its heat.
“That’s probably for the best,” he whispered. Louder, “I have a friend coming by in a few. A doctor friend. To check you over and make sure whatever pills Donny gave you won’t have lasting effects. After that, we’ll figure out what to do with you.”
Do with me?
I squinted at his shoulder, confused. Was I a prize he was going to tack to the wall?
“I have some pain meds and water for you.” He reached out somewhere, pulling both items to my line of sight. I didn’t bother to hold out my hand to take the pills. I didn’t deserve them.
Taking only the bottle of water, which thankfully wasn’t sealed tightly, I shuffled to sit up. Now that I was able to drink, I noticed just how thirsty I was.
When was the last time I had something to drink?
“Whoa. Not so fast,” he took the bottle off me after I chugged about half. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
I stopped the pout just in time before it made an appearance on my face. When he took the bottle, I wrapped both arms around my torso, legs up against them.
My butt cried out in protest as I sat, but it was currently one of the least worries. Or it had been.
“Pills. They’ll help with the pain.”
Slowly, I reached out and accepted the two red pills. I eyed them for a moment, debating on if they really would help or not. Finally, under the man’s watchful gaze, I swallowed them dry.
“The bathroom is through the door there,” I half-heartedly looked where he pointed. “Use it whenever you need. Shower, too.” Was that an order to get cleaned up? “I’ll find you some food, okay?”
I blinked, taking a deep breath.
After a moment, he stood slowly. It seemed like he wanted to say something, or wanted me to do something, before he sighed and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
I waited for a few minutes, wondering if he was waiting on the other side of the door for me to move, for him to be able to have a free second to pounce on me. Sir loved that game. Giving me an order and then coming out of nowhere to slap me for following his rules.
Tentivatly, I let my feet touch the soft carpet. After a moment, I stood, hoping my legs would hold my weight. My knees threatened to give up, but I got them to work. Or not.
I fell back to the bed, the bruising coming right back to the front of my mind.
Why was this time so much worse? Why did it burn so badly when all the other times I got through it with little to no tears?
It had only been Sir’s hands hitting me, too. There wasn’t a belt that left welts behind. There hadn’t been a stick leaving lines that bleed. A simple hand beating and I was crying like a baby.
Giving up, I slipped to the floor, curling up in a ball with my back against the bed. Tears fell as I rocked forward and backward, trying to get the pain to go away. To get the worry to stop.
Whatever was going to happen, would. No amount of tears was going to change it.
How much more could I take? Was my body finally giving up? Had it had enough of the hurt and sadness?
“Oakley?” The same man called, entering the room again.
I held my breath, hoping he’d ignore me and let me rot right where I lay. I was done trying to keep surviving.
