Page 37 of Straightjacket

At the mention of my baby sister, I yank at the handcuffs, forcing the chair to skid across the floor. “Don’t ever talk about my fucking sister, alright! I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.”

He sniggers at my outburst then flips the image over again, to my sister in a body bag– bright red rope burns around her throat. She should have never been able to get into that shed, she knew it was dangerous in there and yet, she did it anyway.

Blood pools in my mouth as I bite down on the inside of my cheek. The horrors of my past, coming back to haunt me. These are the things that I’ll never be able to outrun, no matter how fast I run, they’re always quick to catch up with me.

“What do you want from me?” I spit out, turning my head away from the picture in front of me. But even as I close my eyes, I can still see her, hanging from that fucking swing set. Her yellow dress, covered in mud.

She was never meant to get into that fucking shed, and I failed her.

Thorne bypasses my question and I hear him changing the image again. “Why don’t we take a look at this one? This is my favourite.” I hear the blackness in his voice, the evil leaking out between the words. There’s no way I can look at the wall; I don’t think I’d survive it.

“The only way to fix you, is for you to face your failures. The mess you made. Maybe your sister would be... alive, if you’d have done a better job at protecting her.”

“I did fucking–” I yell out, my voice bellowing around the room until the moment my eyes lock onto the image, I break. “No, no... no, please. Please take it away, please please!” Tremors wrack my body. “Oh my... fucking god, Sophia.”

My little sister's name falls out of my mouth, burning tears streaming down my face as I look at my failure. In the grainy image, Sophia sits huddled in the corner of a dark room, her naked body covered in bruises and cigarette burns. Scattered across the floor are used condoms, each one making me sicker than the last.

Pain coils in my stomach and I double over, vomiting clear liquid all over the floor. It splashes up my legs and the more that image burns itself into my brain, even more vomit appears. I heave, my shoulders shuddering as I empty my stomach all over the place. Saliva drips from my open mouth, the stench of sour sick rising up into my nose as I lean over in the chair.

“Hm, not quite the reaction I expected.” Thorne quips, then turns off the projector before flicking on the lights. I remain hanging over in the chair, the metal of the cuffs biting in my already abused skin.

“I’ll... fucking kill you.” I hiss, spitting the excess saliva in my mouth onto the floor, then I lift slowly. The chair creaks beneath my weight, hatred and fury coursing through my veins. It boils my blood until I’m ready to explode.

With sure and calculated steps, Thorne walks over to me, his hands shoved deep inside his white coat pockets. I lean back in the chair, silently calculating my next steps. Behind me, I work my hand through one of the cuffs, tugging in silent pain as my skin splits. Blood pools around my wrist as I wiggle my hand side to side, forcing it through the small ring.

“I highly doubt you’ll kill me, Silas. Don’t you want to know how you ended up here? How I found you?”

The questions I’ve been trying to ignore, rings like alarm bells in my head because I never should have been found. There was no trace of me in James’ house. I’ve been a ghost ever since I broke out of here all those years ago.

I pause my hands for a moment as the tight metal ring gets stuck around my knuckles, crushing the fragile bones. I can feel the circulation of blood being cut off the longer I leave it, but I have to keep Thorne talking.

“Enlighten me, then.” I say, a cockiness to my tone and continue to pull my hand through the cuff. Inch by inch, my skin splits and I’m forced to snap my pinky finger in order to get it through, I just have no fucking idea how I’m going to do it without Thorne noticing, but it’s my only choice.

I watch as a smile pulls at his thin lips, all the while I clamp my teeth together as the burning pain of snapping my finger radiates through my hand, spreading its way up my arm.

“Well, why don’t I show you?” He says, slipping what looks like a black remote out his pocket. His thumb hovers over a button, then I feel it, electricity coursing through my veins as he pushes his thumb down. It starts in the back of my neck, working its way around my body at rapid speed. My entire body shudders in the seat, forcing my fingers to curl in on themselves.

I grunt out, my teeth gritting together as he continues to electrocute me, and then it stops. Instantly I flop into the chair, listening to the sound of my heart thumping in my ears.

“What the fuck have you done to me?”

Using his thumb, he circles the button again and I immediately freeze, waiting for the next jolt of electricity. “I simply microchipped my dog. That way, if you ever got lost, I could bring you right back home where you belong. The electrocution is just an added touch for when you can’t behave, maybe I should have used it sooner considering how well it works.” He says, a smug proudness in his voice. “You didn’t really think I’d let you out in that big wide world without me knowing exactly where you are, did you?”

Stars bloom in my eyes from the simmering current running through my veins, mixing with the pain of my hand as I drag it through the metal loop of the handcuffs. “And who's to say I won’t cut the fucker out?” I spit back, then use what little energy I have left to slip my hand free. The relief hits me tenfold but now it’s beginning to throb, the sensation sends a wave of dizziness over me, but I refuse to give in.

“You could,” he starts, his words lingering as he steps closer to me, completely unaware of what I’ve been doing. “But the moment you try to dig that out, the truth about your sister will die with me.”

My brows drop in confusion. “What did you just say? What about my sister?”

“The choice is yours, my boy. You and little Iris can ride off into the sunset, or... you remain here with me, and your precious little sister.”

I begin to shake my head. “No, you’re lying. You’re fucking lying to me, my sister is dead, I saw her with my own fucking eyes!”

Thorne takes another step forward. One that speaks of authority because he knows he has me cornered, forcing me to choose between the two most important people in my life but I’m struggling to believe him. It’s my head against my heart and neither of them are winning, instead they’re just creating a bloodbath that I’m drowning in.

I know what I saw. I watched them put my little sister in a body bag, there’s no denying what I saw with my own eyes, but can I really believe my own mind?

Don’t listen to him, Silas. You know Sophia is dead. He wants to trap you and you’re letting him.