Pets

Living my Best Kidnapped Life (Charlie)

I don't know how many days I have been here. Luckily I have been spared from having to see the crazy who had me chained up. I have only seen the doctor who came to check on me the other day. Then the one big ponytail guy brings me food twice a day, but he doesn't say a damn thing to me.

So at least I am not starving to death. I am almost healed now. My wrists and neck still have some small scabbed over spots but no more open wounds. The swelling and bruising that covered my entire body is almost gone now. I have my hospital high fashion outfit they provided on which means I am not naked. I have a toilet, bed, and have been allowed to shower after the doctor looked at me. So I guess I am living my best kidnapped by evil fuckers life.

The worst thing about being locked up is you have nothing but time to think. I constantly think about what happened. I think about what I could have done to prevent it. Then I think of Lily. I miss her so much it hurts. I think about Marek, and miss him too. I cry a lot because there is nothing else to do but think and cry.

I hear a door open and heavy footsteps. I don't look up, and I could care less who it is. The steps come closer. I was expecting a big ponytail guy even though it doesn't feel like food time. I have to go by feel because clocks aren't available in cells. Then I see worn jeans, and a black T Shirt. So original of him to be a bad guy in a black T shirt. It isn't the usual guy big pony tail guy, oh no...It's the other one. The door to my cell is open, but I don't move.

I am jerked up to a sitting position by the guy. He has a few day's worth of growth on his face. It's like his hair, gray and black. He gets in my face nose to nose. I am immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke and booze. He puts his hands on either side of me on the bed. If he's trying to scare me it's not working. I just stare back at him. He smiles at me.

"Hello little one, how about you tell me your name?" Yeah he thinks he's scary. He will have to do better than this.

"Sure. It's go fuck yourself." This apparently is hilarious to him as he lets out a gravelly cackle.

"Oh good, I was afraid you were gonna be all weepy. Go fuck yourself, is a very lovely name." He says this in a light but obviously fake friendly voice. His whole demeanor changes instantly. No more joking around and the atmosphere turns cold. His jaw clenched and the look in his eyes deadened. Ok, now I might be a little scared.

"I honestly don't give a shit what your name is. I was just trying to make conversation and introduce myself." He says as he reaches up and grips my face painfully. I try to hide the fact that a huge lump has formed in my throat. Maybe he is scarier than I first thought, but we are going to pretend to be brave!

"You don't have to introduce yourself either cause I don't give a shit." I say trying to act tough. I can see a dangerous spark flare up in his eyes now.

"No, you're going to learn my name. I plan on making you scream it a lot." I start laughing at him. He tilts his head and bares his teeth like a dog. "I'm glad it's funny now. cause it won't be." He lets go of my face. We maintain eye contact. I feel his hands wrap around my wrists and squeeze. I grit my teeth trying not to let him know he's hurting me. I am not gonna break eye contact.

"My name is Jason...now you say it!" He grits out.

"Told you I don't give a shit what it is!" I say trying so hard to sound tough jutting my chin out. I'm trying to not let on that my wrists feel like they are gonna snap. He squeezes even tighter, and I have to repress a whimper. It's like having someone tighten a rope around your wrists. I am sure my hands are purple due to low blood flow.

"Say it..." He says. I press my lips together tight. I am not going to do what he tells me.

"Go ahead and fucking hit me! I'm not saying your dumbass name!" I screamed right in his face. Not really a good idea. I think I felt one of my wrists pop. Then he smacked me across my face. But I still won't say it. I can feel more bruises starting on my wrists and my face stings. Jokes on him I have been slapped harder. Not sure that is really something to brag about, but I am going to count it as a win for me.