To Keep You

Nineteen: Chaya

Sweat trickled down my forehead and arms as I ambled down the rocky path. It was near high noon and winter was officially upon us. However, the sun didn't seem to get the memo as it shined ferociousness down upon my light-toned body.

A week had passed since I first began working alongside Esther; the kitchen duties had only intensified as the days went on and within three days, I was promoted from potato peeling to deplucking deceased chickens. The task never failed to make me gag and miss the luxury of buying already processed chicken from a grocery store. I made the mistake of complaining about the nauseating task to Esther who only offered me an unpleasant stare before mumbling that if I didn't want to depluck them; then I would have to behead them.

Safe to say my lips were sealed after that comment...

The garden work wasn't effortless either, my hands often burned from the callous that littered them. Apparently, we were nearly done with the work in the garden as snow would appear within the week. I wanted to be relived for having my hands covered in dirt was growing on my nerves in a way I couldn't' describe. But the finishing harvesting only indicated that I was still a prisoner. A bird kept in a cage or whether a goldfish within a bowl of water; only dreaming about death for only when it consumes me will I be truly free.

Over a week...

I've survived nearly twelve days with these monsters. I scoffed at that thought for to be a monster you must have wits about you besides brawn. I have failed to meet all the members of this deranged family besides Aaron, Malachi, David, Esther, Asher, Joshua, and the nameless men to whom I saw on my fourth day here.

So perhaps it was premature to assume all of them were ignorant, yet I still found strange comfort in the wishful idea that I was cleverer than all of them combined.

It wasn't too ghastly to assume such thoughts for besides Esther, I hardly spoke to Malachi. Every morning when the sun would just begin to rise over the twining peaks, there big foot himself would come barging into my prison to sneak some form of food and clothes to me. He always seemed to be in a rush, but he would still try to engage me into a useless conversation. Perhaps afraid that if he did not draw me into a conversation, I would lose the ability to speak all together. The main three topics were, 'what are your hobbies?', 'what was your life like?', and his favorite, 'how are you feeling?'

It had nearly become my pleasure to simply lie underneath the bed, nibble on the food, and ignore him while mentally smiling at his foolish behavior. But every woman has her limits when it comes to dim-witted men and mine boiled over this morning when what felt like the millionth time Malachi probed me for information about my life.

As if fire had danced among my soul, I had sprung out from beneath my new-found safety net when those insufferable words slipped from his lips. I wasn't angry but rather peeved by his constant nagging, thus I barely found my footing when I spoke exasperatedly, "I'm a serial killer, I killed twenty-seven men in the last decade, why? Because they wouldn't stop asking me useless questions like you!"

I half-heartedly smirked as I expected his face to blanche and for him to go running for the hills. However, to my utter dismay, my eyes narrowed as he gained a smile of his own and before I could escape, he leaned forward while using the pad of his thumb to wipe away crumbs from the corner of my mouth in which I had gained while consuming a better than s-x blue-berry muffin.

The touch was soft, tender, and the effortless touch sent shivers down my spine while my skin was set ablaze by the warmth of his own. Any other woman would've blushed and perhaps even leaned into Malachi's touch, but I was not some other woman. I wasn't some spinless, weak, and childish woman who still believed in being swept off her feet by prince charming or knight in shining armor. No, I knew better than to believe in such useless and hopeless garbage.