Those Girls by Chevy Stevens

return, force-feed us peanut butter sandwiches, and sometimes strawberries or pieces of apple. They never untied us. Gavin looked impatient, but Brian seemed to like feeding us, his expression fascinated as if we were a science project. When we were done, they’d take Courtney and Dani away. They traded girls the second night, then back again the next. They each had a lantern now but they never left one in the room, leaving me in the dark. They both also carried rifles, which they used to prod my sisters to their feet, then out of the room. Making them walk to their fate. We were starving, but we never spoke of food. We barely spoke at all. Courtney, her hair matted and tangled, one cheek mottled shades of blue and purple, was silent most of the day, then, as the night came on, she’d start crying so hard she couldn’t get her breath. I tried to sing to her once, tried to remember the words to her favorite song, but she shouted at me.
    “Shut up, Jess. Just shut up.”
    I cried too, but silently, my face turned away, until she crawled close to me and rested her head on my shoulder.
    Dani just stared at the wall, her face a hard angry mask.
    Before Brian and Gavin led them out of the room, they liked to taunt them, taunt me. “Remember, girls, you keep working hard and we’ll leave little sister alone.”
    I hated what they were doing, hated that they were torturing them because of me. The third night I’d snapped.
    “Just take me!”
    Brian laughed. “You’ll get your turn.”
    The next night they came a little earlier with a plastic kid’s pool and dumped a bunch of water jugs into it. I panicked, thinking they were going to drown us. Courtney and Dani looked terrified too, but then the boys undid our ties. We stretched our arms. My shoulders ached, the muscles tight. I looked at my wrist, the scraped skin and bruises, wondered if I’d get an infection.
    “Clean yourselves up, you’re starting to stink,” Brian said.
    They watched, rifles perched on their knees, as Courtney and Dani took their clothes off. We’d undressed many times in front of each other, but I looked away. I heard them climb into the pool, the sound of plastic creaking and shifting as they stepped in, quick inhales as they immersed their bodies in the cold water.
    Brian pointed the gun at me. “You too, little sister.”
    “Screw you,” I said, but I couldn’t help but look longingly at the water.
    “Just do what he says!” Dani shouted.
    I looked at her and gasped at the bruises on her body. The bite marks across her chest. Courtney was also covered in bruises and bites.
    Gavin stepped closer to Dani, pulling her hair back until her neck was exposed, and pressed the barrel of his rifle against a spot behind her ear.
    “Better listen to your sister.”
    I stood up and took my clothes off, hands shaking, staring at the floor. I couldn’t look at them, couldn’t look at my sisters.
    Brian whistled. “Look what you’ve been hiding.”
    I was crying, big gasps of fear. I went over to the bath and eased down into the cold water, my arms wrapped around my knees, trying to hide my chest.
    They gave us soap and shampoo, dumped cold water over our heads to rinse us off. The soap stung my wrists, but I soaked them in the cold water, hoped it was flushing out the wounds. One of them kept a gun pointed at us at all times.
    “Get out,” Brian said.
    We stood, shivering. Courtney and Dani didn’t even bother trying to hide their bodies, but I tucked myself behind them. Gavin tossed us some towels.
    We dried off, then they handed us some fresh clothes, summer dresses in floral patterns. They looked used, the fabric worn and faded. New underwear—no bras. They bundled our old stuff up.
    They had a bag of makeup, said they wanted us to dress up for them. We did each other’s makeup, our hands shaky. They surveyed our work.
    “More lipstick,” Brian said. We reapplied.
    Gavin pointed to Dani. “Fluff your hair up, like around your