Chapter 5

                                    

                                          
I found my way back to the room eventually, dragging my feet and finding Marcia crouched in the corner. I padded my way over to my cot, climbing up and pulling my knees to my chest. I stared blankly ahead, a frown etched into my features. They had found a ventilation opening and so far it looked like only Claire had managed to escape. Good for her, though I doubt she got far. Dennis was fast, even for his size. I sighed heavily, falling back on my back.
                          
     "What did he do to you?" Marcia questioned, her voice high pitched and trembling. I stared at the untouched ceiling above my head. He made me read for him.
                          
     "Nothing." I murmured, barely holding back sobs. My stomach was hurting, I hadn't eaten in days but I managed to suppress the pain and rolled on my side with my back facing Marcia. Tears ran down my cheeks even though my eyes were now closed. Go to sleep.I willed myself. Go to sleep, when you wake up, everything will be normal. It was a lie and I knew it. I couldn't go back to the past and I didn't want to. Still, I couldn't fight the growing exhaustion within me and it wasn't long before I felt the darkness consume my thoughts and blanketing my sorrows.
     
                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          


                          
I slumped to the floor, blood pooling around my legs. My shoulders popped, making my wince. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I struggled to get out of my restraints. The rope on my wrists was bloodied after rubbing my skin raw. I grunted harshly, pulling at my restraints some more. They had to be getting loose. The door crashed open behind me, making me cry out in surprise. It wasn't night time yet, or at least I didn't think it was. Judging by the clumsy footfalls on the ground I would bet my life that it was anyone but my mother.
     I froze, the baby hairs on the back of my neck standing erect. Electric energy, wild and suffocating filled my lungs and pricked at my body. I turned around slowly, meeting the hateful, lust filled eyes of my father. His dark reddish brown hair unkempt and stubble growing thickly on his chin. His green long sleeve sweat stained and his pants halfway undone as he stumbled to me. My chest rose and fell rapidly with each quick draw of breath. I trembled, my stomach churning immediately. I was going to be sick.
                          
     "'Lo tiger lily," his voice rasped as he stood in front if me before dropping to his knees with a jingling thud. "Yer ma came to see ya. Were ya tokin to her cards again?" His voice thickly brogued with an Irish tint. My bottom lip quivered, my puffy, red eyes burning as fresh tears sprung to life. I shook my head furiously, keeping my eyes on him. Studying his every move. He scoffed, leaning forward. The hot, heavy mass of his body leaning on me and forcing me back.
     The cold concrete stung against my fresh wounds, pebbles of debris rubbed into me. His lips pressed against my skin, kissing along the back of my ear and trailing down my neck. I felt anxiety siezing my lungs in a vice–like grip. I screamed in panic, struggling to push him back. I could feel his hard manhood against the sole of my foot and bit my lip as I kicked him. He cried out in pain, retreating in a hunched over form. I took my chance to escape, rolling on to my stomach and stumbled to get up, my breathing labored as I hurried to move.
                          
     "Yer a right naughty bitch, you 're. Get back 'er!" He snarled, hurling himself forward, crushing me under his weight.
                          
     "Ah! No, please!" I begged, my fingernails scratching against the concrete. Tears poured out of my eyes, staining the floor beneath me as I gritted my teeth, feeling him lift himself up slightly so as to hike up my tattered and stained nightgown to expose my rear.
                          
     "Shut yer whore mouth, lass. We'll purge the devil outta you, yet." He growled in my ear. I felt the warmth of his manhood pressing against my rear. I braced for the impact, my body going rigid with fear.
                          
     I gasped, hearing the scream of a drill bit as Dennis secured a piece of plywood over the vent. Marcia cowered in the far corner, watching me as I practically threw myself off of my cot. Catching myself on my hands and knees, ignoring the dust and debris from the drywall that had been ripped to shreds. I bit my bottom lip too hard. I tasted the copper taste of warm blood on my tongue, making my surprised at the strength it was taking me to suppress my sobs.
     The drilling stopped. Dennis sniffled above me, stepping off of the chair he had used to fix it. I raised my head slowly, having not heard any trace of movement from him. My tear filled eyes met his stoic stare, his eyes studying my features. I felt the pain fading inside my heart. My belly settling from flipping. I steeled myself against the trauma, pushing it down. I stood up, keeping my gaze on the floor.
                          
     "I'm trying to be good, Emma," he began, whispering my name under his breath. He turned to Marcia, walking over to the door. "You will not see your friend again, she'll be kept separate…" he took a moment, inspecting us. Inspecting for dirt and disappointed by his find. "You, take off your skirt. You…take off your pants and shirt. Clothes you got dirty from the dust." He explained, his breathing hitched as Marcia dropped her skirt, being left in her gray underwear and shirt.
     She handed it over, wrapping her arms around herself. Dennis turned to me expectantly, his brow furrowing as an internal war raged. He was trying to control himself, I recognized that hungry gaze. I turned around, biting my lip as I gripped the hem of my jumper, pulling it up slowly. If I continued to do this he would see my scars.
     
                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
     He was disgusting. This was wrong and he knew that. For some reason, though, he couldn't take his eyes off of Emma as she pulled her jumper up slowly, inch by inch. His pulse thrummed in his ears, heart pounding so hard he was sure they could see his chest pulsing. He didn't have this reaction with the other girls, he wasn't transfixed by their stripping or their skin. But with her, he found her simply breathtaking. He blinked, seeing a flash of silver gleam from underneath her midnight blue shirt. His spine stiffened, shoulders squaring as his brows knitted together. Scars. A lot of them, long and jagged, overlapping and intertwining across her back. Their silver sheens glistening in the dim light, capturing their depth.
     What happened to you? He pushed back the urge to touch her back, his fingers twitching at his sides. She worked on the button on her jeans, unzipping them and pushing them down over her rear, exposing the black boy shorts she wore under her jeans. His eyes widened even further as he saw the scars riddling her thighs as well. Something awful had happened to her, something that set her apart from the rest. He would have to discuss this with the others. She didn't turn to him as she gathered her dirtied clothes in her hands and threw them behind her. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and shame, her body trembling.
                          
     "Go. Please?" She pleaded in a broken whisper.
                          
     "I will return these." Dennis promised, turning around and exiting the room quickly. He'd barely shut the door before he felt Patricia intruding in on his turn with the Light.
                          
     "Dear heavens, child. What is it?" Patricia's voice soothed tightly.
                          
      "It's the girl. Emma. She's different," Dennis started, unsure of how to continue.
                          
     "Hahahaha, Mr. Dennis saw her in her underwear!" Hedwig teased, laughing loudly. Dennis gritted his teeth, cocking his head to the side and rubbing the back of his head.
                          
     "Hedwig shut up!"
                          
     "Is this true, Dennis?" Patricia asked icily. Dennis straightened up.
                          
     "Their clothes are dirty, I'm washing them. Anyway, that Emma girl is different. She's pure."