about.
His hand still fluttered above my throat, and then he pressed down a little. My breath caught as it tried to move past the blockage.
“Stop playing along,” he whispered so quietly it was just air and small noise passing his lips. “If you keep doing as you’re told, he will kill you.” I raised my eyebrows. “The minute he thinks he’s got you figured out, that he’s broken you, you’ll be executed,” he said, his voice a whistle through his teeth.
I was about to nod, but he stopped me. “Don’t nod, throw your head against the head board in three… two… one.” I did as he said, and the hand on my throat moved with me but never pressed too hard.
Unfolding his knees, he stood with controlled movements. He turned his back to me and walked slowly out of the room, my eyes drilling into his back.
As soon as the door closed, I turned my head into my pillow and smiled. Grant’s son had just told me to stop obeying, to stop being the opposite of me.
I picked up the metal bowl and flung it at the camera. It cracked deliciously and fell off its perch, hanging by a single wire like a hung prisoner. The bowl slammed into the dresser, teetering and scraping until it came to rest, hard and unforgiving against the polished wood.
ROSA
Apella rattled the bars of her cage, the tidy place I’d made for her and the others inside. She warned me not to go too far. Patting my chest, I shook my head. I never listened to her when she was alive, and I wasn’t going to start now. It will be okay, I told my ghosts and myself.
Today would be the same. Breakfast. Escorted to torture. Lunch in my room. Dinner with the ‘family’.
I took a deep breath in and flipped through the pile of clothes placed neatly on the chair by my bed. A lavender cardigan with blue flowers embroidered into the collar. I looked down at my pajamas and smiled. The devil had a hold of me today.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I sang loudly.
Denis’ long leg slipped inside the door, followed by the rest of him. He eyed me and touched his finger to his forehead, rubbing it back and forth. “You ready for this?” he asked evenly. “It’s not going to be easy.”
I nodded, pulling my toes under my feet nervously.
He loped towards me and held out his elbow, casting his eyes up to the broken camera. “It will be fixed by the time you return, you know.”
“I’ll break it again,” I muttered.
“Mhm.”
I took his elbow to steady myself and followed him to breakfast.
The rest of the family was already seated when we arrived.
Judith looked up and huffed in my direction, “Why does she get to wear pajamas to breakfast?” she whined.
I steeled myself for the reaction, watching Grant carefully exhale through his nostrils like a horse that had just galloped a mile. There was heat in his eyes when he glared at me.
“She doesn’t. Rosa, return to your room and change into appropriate attire.”
I let go of Denis’ elbow and collapsed in my chair. “I can’t. My clothes are… er… damaged.”
Grant ignored my comment and took a deep, impatient breath. “Why do you refuse to wear the contacts you were given? You are my guest and are expected to adhere to my rules and traditions.”
Regression. All of my childhood was coming out to dance with me today. I covered my brown eye, letting the blue one gaze at the table. “Is this better?”
Grant frowned so hard his lips were close to leaving his face. His arms pushed back from the table. I smiled at him, big and toothy, still holding my hand over my brown eye, truly hoping that Denis was right. That the minute Grant thought he’d won, he would kill me. That this was the only way to survive.
I could almost hear Grant gnashing his teeth as I rubbed my hands together and said, “Food smells great!” I smacked my lips, grabbing forkfuls of bacon and piling it onto my plate. His anger was swirling around me in fronds. Any minute
His hand still fluttered above my throat, and then he pressed down a little. My breath caught as it tried to move past the blockage.
“Stop playing along,” he whispered so quietly it was just air and small noise passing his lips. “If you keep doing as you’re told, he will kill you.” I raised my eyebrows. “The minute he thinks he’s got you figured out, that he’s broken you, you’ll be executed,” he said, his voice a whistle through his teeth.
I was about to nod, but he stopped me. “Don’t nod, throw your head against the head board in three… two… one.” I did as he said, and the hand on my throat moved with me but never pressed too hard.
Unfolding his knees, he stood with controlled movements. He turned his back to me and walked slowly out of the room, my eyes drilling into his back.
As soon as the door closed, I turned my head into my pillow and smiled. Grant’s son had just told me to stop obeying, to stop being the opposite of me.
I picked up the metal bowl and flung it at the camera. It cracked deliciously and fell off its perch, hanging by a single wire like a hung prisoner. The bowl slammed into the dresser, teetering and scraping until it came to rest, hard and unforgiving against the polished wood.
ROSA
Apella rattled the bars of her cage, the tidy place I’d made for her and the others inside. She warned me not to go too far. Patting my chest, I shook my head. I never listened to her when she was alive, and I wasn’t going to start now. It will be okay, I told my ghosts and myself.
Today would be the same. Breakfast. Escorted to torture. Lunch in my room. Dinner with the ‘family’.
I took a deep breath in and flipped through the pile of clothes placed neatly on the chair by my bed. A lavender cardigan with blue flowers embroidered into the collar. I looked down at my pajamas and smiled. The devil had a hold of me today.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I sang loudly.
Denis’ long leg slipped inside the door, followed by the rest of him. He eyed me and touched his finger to his forehead, rubbing it back and forth. “You ready for this?” he asked evenly. “It’s not going to be easy.”
I nodded, pulling my toes under my feet nervously.
He loped towards me and held out his elbow, casting his eyes up to the broken camera. “It will be fixed by the time you return, you know.”
“I’ll break it again,” I muttered.
“Mhm.”
I took his elbow to steady myself and followed him to breakfast.
The rest of the family was already seated when we arrived.
Judith looked up and huffed in my direction, “Why does she get to wear pajamas to breakfast?” she whined.
I steeled myself for the reaction, watching Grant carefully exhale through his nostrils like a horse that had just galloped a mile. There was heat in his eyes when he glared at me.
“She doesn’t. Rosa, return to your room and change into appropriate attire.”
I let go of Denis’ elbow and collapsed in my chair. “I can’t. My clothes are… er… damaged.”
Grant ignored my comment and took a deep, impatient breath. “Why do you refuse to wear the contacts you were given? You are my guest and are expected to adhere to my rules and traditions.”
Regression. All of my childhood was coming out to dance with me today. I covered my brown eye, letting the blue one gaze at the table. “Is this better?”
Grant frowned so hard his lips were close to leaving his face. His arms pushed back from the table. I smiled at him, big and toothy, still holding my hand over my brown eye, truly hoping that Denis was right. That the minute Grant thought he’d won, he would kill me. That this was the only way to survive.
I could almost hear Grant gnashing his teeth as I rubbed my hands together and said, “Food smells great!” I smacked my lips, grabbing forkfuls of bacon and piling it onto my plate. His anger was swirling around me in fronds. Any minute
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