Page 22 of The Caged Girl

He turned toward me, putting half his body over mine. “It’s alright to be curious, my beautiful bird.” I kept my eyes closed as he brushed his fingers through my hair.

“What did you wish for?” I quietly asked.

“I wished that I’d find the strength to not slit your throat, drink your blood, and make one of the nightingales wear your face whenever I missed you.” A sob left my mouth as stomach acid rose in my throat.

He placed his finger against my lips. “Shh, now we must sleep.”

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Alister– Ten years ago

“Papa, why must she wear only white?” My brother Ian and I were watching our father bleach the unconscious woman’s hair. Her head was balancing in the bathroom sink as her pale lips parted.

“Speak quietly, Alister!” he hissed at me. Papa was wearing white surgical scrubs. His hair—a bright blonde that matched Ian’s—was combed over neatly. Our whole home was all white. We all were forced to wear the green-colored contact lenses as well. My hair was black like Mother’s, and no matter how much Papa would try to bleach it, it’d never look like theirs.

Mother’s hair was long and beautiful. She chose to keep it tied in a neat bun and wore a blonde wig, instead. When Papa wasn’t home, she’d take it off and dance with us outside, letting her long, raven-like locks fly around her. She didn’t choose to marry Papa; she was forced to when she was trafficked from India as a teenager. Papa said it was his one piece of color in his life.

She wasn’t meant for this life, and neither was I. But Papa had saved Mother in some ways. She was trafficked into Papa’s business of death, but he fell in love with her. She was the favorite girl for him. She knew that defying him would land her in one of the all-white cages where the girls were deprived of their senses. I preferred darkness—I thought it did a far better job at sensory deprivation. There was nothing more fear-inducing than obscurity. There was nothing more peaceful and depriving than total loss of control of your environment. But Papa never listened to me. He thought white was superior—which was another reason he wanted to marry Mother. He said the color of their skin also depicted the social class difference. He was more worthy than her because of his skin tone. Ian was oddly fair compared to me. I had seen Papa bleach his skin once and take him somewhere anytime he had any kind of tan on his skin. We were forced to wear long sleeves even when it was painfully hot.

I once offered Papa this brilliant advice of changing the white therapy to dark, but he slapped me and told me to let Ian learn the family business properly. He told me I would never be man enough to withhold the Ivory name because I was my mother’s softened shadow.

“Frederick.” My mother walked in on all of us cleaning the woman in the bathtub after Papa had bleached her hair and attached an IV to her vein.

“Lana, please prepare for the welcoming ceremony of the caged girl.” Papa smiled as Ian and I scrubbed her naked body with soap.

Papa turned to us. “Make sure to get under the fingernails.” My mother and I looked at one another in a way that I knew she was trying to comfort me.

“Of course, my love.” She glanced over at my brother, who never once stopped cleaning the woman. Papa waited until Mother left, then exhaled slowly before speaking.

“My sons, you must marry a woman with a broken wing, because once you repair it and help her fly, then you have all the power. You hold the key to the gilded cage that she will stay and serve you from. She thinks she’s the favorite girl in your world, but really, she’s nothing more than the caged girl, born to serve and obey you.”

Ian’s jaw ticked slightly as he nodded and absorbed our father’s evil. I didn’t want to keep a woman in a cage and do this. I looked at the nearly dead woman lying in the bathtub.

“Did you hear me, Alister? Ian already has the family business mapped out. He’s going to carry on my legacy of submissive brides for the wealthy men who need an obedient counterpart. He’s going to carry on all of what I have poured my blood, sweat, and tears into.” Papa stood and grabbed a towel to dry his hands. “And what are you going to do, son?”

The entire bathroom smelled like bleach and soap.

“I don’t…I don’t know,” I murmured as Ian laughed and mimicked my words.

“A real man finds a problem and solves it. Are you a real man?” I could tell Papa was becoming irate.

“Yes, Papa.” I stood quickly and straightened my shoulders. “I was thinking I should create an escape.”

I licked my bottom lip as Papa’s face lit up with curiosity. “An escape?”

Really, I just wanted to escape this house. The all white, sterile environment. “Yes, an all-inclusive and exclusive resort for those who are looking to release their inner demons, urges, and desires.” My heart was racing as my father waved me out of the bathroom, leaving his golden son behind. For the first time in my life, I felt seen by him.

“Tell me more.” His hands were crossed behind his back as we walked down the stark hallways that were only lined with black-and-white images of strange features. Features of women who were kept captive on the other side of the estate.

“Papa, sometimes I feel anger and rage, and I want to hurt someone. I want to feel powerful and be in control of their life.” My cheeks warmed as I confessed this to my father.

He stopped at the end of the hallway and swiftly pushed me against the wall. His hand wrapped around my neck as my eyes shot wide open, and I began to choke on the lack of air.

His face was emotionless as he continued squeezing and saliva trickled down my lips as I tried to pry his fingers off.

“Please,” I pleaded. But he didn’t stop until I began to see stars and tunnel vision set in.

Finally, as my eyes began to close, he let go. I hunched over and began coughing violently as he took a step back in his platform white shoes.

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