Ephemeral

Resistance is Futile Part 2

I laid on the bed with my arms out to my sides as I stared at the ceiling, not thinking about anything at all. 

My arms were still wrapped, and even with the medicine that Aidan claimed that he applied...they were still burning. It was like a really bad sun burn on my arms but the pain wasn't unbearable. It mostly caused mild irritation as they rubbed against the bandages. 

I frowned thinking about my lack luster attempt at an escape. I didn't know what else to do – I had failed in everything that I tried. Aidan told me that I was smart before...I was seriously doubting that.

I was all out of options, really.

I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the ceiling as I was silently seething with unbridled rage. 

There was the last option that popped into my mind, just making me more angry. There was absolutely no way that I would be able to get that phone of his. He kept it too well guarded, and I...I didn't want to...

Didn't want to willingly go anywhere near him.

He...

My fingers went to my bruised, swollen, and abused lips. My fingertips lightly grazed against the skin as I refrained from flinching out in real pain. 

He had been particularly aggressive with the way that he kissed me. Hickeys were all down my neck and collarbone. I wonder if he was punishing me for my escape attempt. Or, if that was just how he showed affection.

My heart fell to my stomach from a sudden onslaught of dread that I couldn't shrug off. 

I didn't want to stay here...I couldn't stay here.

I shivered and turned on my side.

I curled myself into a ball and wanted to cry – my eyes became blurry and my throat was scratchy. A small whimper threatened to release itself from my throat. 

I had wanted to let it all out, but I kept it in. I kept my sadness and grief tucked inside, knowing that it would only be twice as bad later if I released it. It was a common thing that I had done throughout my life -- bottling up my emotions and putting it away in the deep corners of my mind. 

There was no sense in crying – that has never helped me in life before. At a young age I was taught to not even have emotions, and if they somehow came to be, then I needed to never outwardly show them. 

Besides, Aidan didn't care if I cried in front of him...it wasn't going to deter him from doing whatever he wanted to do.

I glanced to the side to find that the bathroom door was wide open...I never saw the nail clippers again. Even when I woke up earlier today, they weren't placed back into the manicure set that I had plucked them from.  

I did notice that he had left the nail file.

Nail file...

I sat up, my hair falling behind my back. The bracelet that he had forced on me felt cold against my skin. It was a contrast from the rest of my body with the burn that I still had on both of my arms. 

I let out a sigh, not wanting my thoughts to remain on the brand that he had casted on me. Standing shakily from the bed, I walked slowly over to the bathroom.

I stared at myself in front of the mirror to find the ends of my hair completely fried. Not even the maid who styled my hair could make it look pretty. My face had gotten a light burn, but it was nowhere close to the burns on my arms.

The red and dark marks that covered my neck I was desperately trying to ignore and not acknowledge. I didn't want to even think that he marked me -- that he marked my skin. I began to tremble, seeing the white color of the bandage from the corner of my eyes.