Can we get 15 likes in the next twelve hours? I think we can, but here’s a little incentive to get you all motivated.
“Lie still!” His breath is hot next to my face as I try to walk through the cloudiness gripping my thoughts. My head is spinning and dazed from the last round of Uncle Robert’s belt lashing. I can feel the blood seeping into the mattress below me, it’s sticky and warm. “Stop moving. I need to get this perfect, my little worm. It’s all for a reason. I couldn’t have found better bait if it fell into my lap.” He walks away, laughing, digging into his pocket and pulling a fat, long cigar out before moving it to his lips.
He is studying me in deep thought—inquisitively. Plotting and treachery covers his face. Then, he moves back toward me, placing the freshly cut strands of my hair around my body.
Robert reaches back into his pocket and pulls a razorblade from its depths. When the blade extends the tip is covered in dried blood. My blood. The buckle of his belt shines in the minimal light, as he starts to pull if from the loops.
I’m scared to speak, but I need to understand what’s happening to me. I’ve been here for a week, and he’s told me nothing. All he keeps reminding me of is that I’m bait; for what I don’t know. I begin to whimper as I think about the boy I met only months ago. A boy who’s been my solace from all the loneliness living in my heart. For the first time since my parents’ death, I’ve felt alive. Happy, even. Until Robert took me away, strapping me to this bed. Once again, all that happiness I was feeling is ripped away from me.
Drake, please find me.
Please save me.
“Stop that crying you little bitch!” The whip of his belt slices into my legs and I scream out in agony as he continues to tear my skin from my body. His breathing is labored while his eyes are murderous. “This will all be over soon. Once I have her in my hands, your pain will be over because you’ll be dead.”