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Chapter One
Reese
I don't rememberwhat the grass felt like tickling the bottom of my feet, or the way the sand felt between my toes. I don't remember how cold the snow felt after it had freshly fallen, and I don't remember what it felt like to laugh out loud.
I remember the day I stopped talking—stopped hearing my voice. It was the day I should have listened to Mom. But I didn't.
As the sun peeks through the cracks in the wall and the sound of a slight thump echoes against the front door, I push myself up to my feet and slowly pad across the dark cement slab. Silently, I count to thirty—until I know it will be safe, and open the small flap on the bottom of the wooden door. With caution, I reach my hand out, basking in the warmth of the sun as pin-pricking chills crawl up my arm. It's what I want to remember a warm bath felt like.
My body falls limply to the floor as I steal the extra second of warmth before retrieving my paper bag. With contact, my dry fingers scratch against the paper, gripping around the folded top. "Thank you," I want to tell him. 'Thank you."
With my bag in hand, I clutch it against my chest as I stand and make my way over to the mattress. Placing it down like a baby in a cradle, I cover it with my sheet to keep safe from the mice and other insects who share this common abode with me.
I've wondered why I've been kept alive in here. It is by the slimmest means of survival that I have made it through each day since I arrived. I wasn't sure if being here was a form of some sick torture or if Snatcher, as I call him, had a more motivating reason.
My mind is clear of all thoughts, old and new. My emotions and fears have transplanted into a state of nothingness. Being contained within these four walls has given me a sick sense of safety. Until five days ago, when Ilearned the reason I'm being kept alive.
His name is Sin.
