I come here every day after school. At first, it was to escape the Beast. Now, the Monster.
I climb the weeping willow to the very top. I’ve always been terrified and oddly drawn to heights. It’s thrilling to look down into the waters below and feel I could fall at any moment.
There’s nothing like the exhilaration of relinquishing control over my body. I breathe in the dizzying sensation.
I like Astley Lake. It’s nothing like the dirty slime that goes by the name of Oakley River. The color out here is crystal blue, but the trees that border it cast dark, threatening shadows. Those shadows are what interests me.
Perched on my tree, I fumble for my camera. I only have one roll, so I study the angle carefully before taking the snapshot.
The Monster gave me the camera as a welcoming gift. He probably hopes it’ll trick me into thinking he’s a nice man. But I know better.
I stay by the lake a while longer, until darkness sets in, turning the idyllic place into one bathed in stifling doom.
Then slowly, I begin the long walk home, already imagining myself putting my newly-developed photos in the flowery pink box behind the dusty TV.
-
For a long time after Damien has left, I stay frozen, my mind reeling from what’s just happened.
I’ve never felt such extreme fear as when he dangled me over the balcony. I’ve never felt so out of control. It’s like I’ve woken up after a long hibernation. Like the numbness that has enshrouded me practically since I was born has been pierced clean through, and has shattered to pieces around me.
I wonder when he’s going to come back. Ihavelearned my lesson. I don’t want to taunt him anymore. Not because of how scared I was while he was punishing me on the balcony, but because of what happened after. When he asked me all those questions.
That was when I realized I had scared him. I looked up at him and read it in those usually unreadable eyes.
Things suddenly feel different now. When he saw me risking my life, it scared him. That means he must care, at least a little.
Plus, I answered his questions. I obeyed. That means he won’t punish me with more days of solitude. He’ll be back, I’m sure of it.
The thought energizes me, and I decide to go to bed right away, so tomorrow will come quicker.
-
But he doesn’t come back. Not the next day, nor the following one. I stay by the phone the first day. The next one, I spend on the couch, staring at the blank wall, lost in thought. Occasionally, I reach for one of the magazines on the coffee table, hungrily hunting for articles about him. Laughing at his interviews, now that I know just how untruthful they are.
By the third day, however, I’m in the depths of despair. He hasn’t come. He revealed himself to me, and now he’s punishing me for it. Keeping away. He doesn’t want me after all.
My thoughts drive me frantic, and I lash out at myself without realizing it, digging into my arms in frantic anger. I look down and am surprised to notice a drop of blood forming. The light burn on my wrist is enough to snap me out of my thoughts. I take a deep breath then look up at the camera, wondering if he’s seen what I’ve done. Wondering if he’ll come.
But the little red light isn’t blinking anymore. I frown. Has the camera been turned off?
Suddenly, I hear the lock in the door, and I turn, hope surging in my throat. It’s late, almost 11 p.m. No one is supposed to come at this hour. It’s not time for a meal. It can’t be the quiet woman. That means…
I wait with baited breath, hoping with every part of me that it’s Damien again. I need him so bad my skin aches.
But the door opens onto… Logan Colt.
I take a step back, heart pounding, as he faces me, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.
“Well, well, well,” he says.
I still remember the cold gun pressed to my temple at his orders. That was the last time I saw him and, I hoped, the only time. I back away until my body hits the wall, and stand there, trembling.
“The boys are away on a business trip,” he says casually, walking toward me. “Damien asked me to check in on you.”
He lifts a hand toward me and I cringe, but he only brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, his smirk widening.
“Checking in on our pets is my specialty,” he says, and my heart sinks.
