So then why set me free ahead of schedule?
A silent answer is my reward when I turn in time to see him running up the long walkway toward the still open door. He puts a finger to his lips before leaning down and attempting to collect himself. I know he’s scared, and I know that this must be important.
He tosses the neatly gathered rope toward the door and beckons for me to follow him. I trust him enough to blindly fall into step behind him, though I can’t help but feel uneasy about where he’s leading me.
Vaughn never has much to say these days. He lives in his own world most of the time, and he usually only ever comes to life when I’m around because he knows of my need to protect them. He does the same for me in his own way. Whenever I’ve been tossed into the little part of the world where Pater can forget about me for a week at a time, he sneaks out and drops scraps of food through the small cracks of the door.
It’s not much, it never is, but it’s enough to keep me alive and from starving to death as I think Pater wants for me sometimes. I don’t know why he would want such a fate for someone he’s taken as his "wife”, but he has his reasons.
Maybe one day we’ll find out what they are. Or maybe we’ll die in the dark, confused as to what this all truly stood for.
As we near the opulent kitchen area where Pater eats like a fucking king, Vaughn turns to look at me and presses a finger slowly to his lips. A few steps later, we’re both peeking around the door frame and now I understand why I was taken prematurely from my punishment.
Pater is leaning against the counter, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, with Eloy sitting in a stool. I roll my eyes at how pristine he looks and how we always look like we’re mired in shit.
Eloy is the youngest of the three of us. He’s thirteen and, for the moment, he’s dressed as cleanly and beautifully as Pater. I hear the voice of someone I don’t recognize and crane my neck to see if I can get a better look, but Vaughn pulls me back just as Pater’s eyes start to wander in our direction.
“Get cleaned up,” he whispers in his soft voice. “We have to go in and speak to that lady.”
And as he walks into the kitchen, leaving me in the hallway, it’s the first time I noticed since being pulled out of the pit that he’s dressed like a prince, too. I’m the only one who looks like I’ve been through Hell, because I have.
A wide smile stretches over Pater’s face as he sees Vaughn entering the room.
“And this is my other son,” I can hear him say. I cringe at those words. My other son. If only this person who we’re being presented to knew what kind of man Pater is, what kind of woman he forces me to be, she would take Vaughn and Eloy and run.
I could tell her.
I could weave a powerful tale of the horrors we face here, the things we’re forced to endure, the evil man that Pater is, but I won’t. If she doesn’t believe me—and who would believe such a fantastical story—I go back into the oubliette permanently.
I sigh as I run toward the other end of the house. We are not allowed upstairs unless Pater requests our company because it’s his home, and he deems that his personal space. It’s how he keeps us separate from what he calls his ‘normal’ life, though there are times when he’ll invite me upstairs, but never the boys.
That I know of, anyway. The only thing I ever pray for anymore is that they have never been forced to go with him into his room. They know they can trust me and tell me if they have, but I never broach the subject because they’re afraid of me. Not as much as they’re afraid of Pater, but they’re still afraid.
I don’t blame them.
I would also fear the person that’s supposed to be like a mother to me, who instead decides to carry out painful and sometimes erotic punishments as directed to her in the most terrible ways.
This is why I know I never want to bear children of my own. If this is what I’m forced to do—to actually be capable of putting them through—then the only thing I truly deserve is a slow death at their hands.
But they fear me and will never raise a hand again
st me because I’m the only person who knows their pain and torture. I’m the only person that would believe them, and I’m the only person that can keep them as safe as possible from Pater.
I take their places as often as I can, but there are even nights when I’m so physically and mentally exhausted from the constant torrent of abuse that I can’t save them. I believe that those are the nights that their hatred for me grows and the fear begins to slowly drift away.
If they did end up killing me, I would not blame or despise them for the deed. I would only hope that they allow me the opportunity to send Pater to Hell before me.
What do I wear? I don’t even know who that woman is.
Pater, Vaughn, and Eloy were dressed casually but a little more presentable than normal when we have guests, so I assume she’s of enough importance for me to wear a dress.
I just have to find one long enough to cover the scratches on my knees.
Pulling open the closet doors, I begin to quickly pick through my choices.
“I’ve always liked this one the best.”
My body freezes under the weight of his breath, hot on my ear. One hand reaches forward and retrieves a blue and white floral sundress, while the other gently rests on my side.