Page 3 of Beg for Death
What was he going to do to me?
My heart pounded against my ribcage the longer we stayed in that position. My knees started to burn from bearing all my weight.
"Done?"
Panic tried to claw its way up but was stuck in the middle of my chest. The ball of nerves twisted and turned inside me without an outlet. His hold on me tightened even further, sending little shocks of pain down my spine.
"Yes?"
"Is that a question?"
"No?" I squeaked. What was the right answer? What would make him stop hurting me and let me go?
"What the hell is wrong with you? Can't even answer simple questions."
A shudder worked its way over me as I took in a breath. "Sorry."
The silence that greeted my apology only fueled my anxiety further. A crawling sensation crept up my arms, and I desperately rubbed at them to make the feeling go away. What was I supposed to do here? What was I doing here?
His hand disappeared from my neck but not the pressure. I didn't dare move. What if it set him off and he ended up killing me? Fear laced through every single one of my limbs, turning them into stone.
"This is how things are going to go. I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them. You scream, and I will kill you. You try to run, and I will hurt you. I know you see the chain; you're not going to get far. Although I encourage you to try, it's been a while since I've been allowed to hurt someone. You have no idea how hard it was holding myself back for three years."
I chewed the inside of my cheek, not caring about the pain or the taste of copper. My entire body trembled as I stayed as still as possible.
Calloused fingers pressed into my flesh once more. The pressure built until I could feel it all the way down to my tailbone. A whimper was all I could muster as my brain shut off. Survival mode kicked in.
"You have no manners. When I tell you to do something, you say yes, sir. Am I clear?"
My mouth opened, and I licked my lips, fighting the tears back. "Yes… sir."
"Good." He released me and it felt like a nice cold breeze on a scorching day.
Do I stay like this?He hadn't told me I could ask questions. I kept them locked away for now. Although I wanted to know why I was there, I didn't want to know at the detriment of my life.
"Get up and sit on the bed," he instructed.
I jumped up and regretted it instantly. My feet were nothing more than pins and needles. I winced as I moved around. I plopped down on the bed, still staring at the ground. I made out each groove of the wood flooring as I waited.
"Look at me."
My head snapped up, and I was instantly drawn into the dark brown pools of his eyes. His gaze was heavy and only made me want to go back to staring at the ground. I swallowed and decided it was easier to look at his cheek.
"Did your father dearest ever talk about me?"
Why?
I went back to chewing the inside of my cheek as I shook my head. My father would rather pretend I was never born than actually talk to me.
A single brow lifted, and I sat up straighter.
"I said, answer me. What are you, a fucking mime?"
I went to shake my head again but stopped short. "No?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a heavy sigh I was all too familiar with. It was the same one so many people before him had given me. He was disappointed, or better yet, frustrated with me. I had that effect on most.
I scooted back on the bed, and the chain dragged over the mattress, rattling with each movement as I drew my legs up and sat crisscrossed on the bed. I wanted nothing more than to take the thin blanket under me and wrap it over my head and hide away from the pressing feelings that were welling up inside me. I didn't know this man and yet he was staring down at me with the same look so many others had.
