The Lost Roses

Chapter Three

When I awake again I'm still tied to the bed, but my back is completely numb and very cold. I don't know what he did after he whipped me. But I can't feel it now.
"Zoey are you awake?" Someone asks.
"Yea. What happened?"I ask rubbing my face.
"He stopped hitting you after ten strikes. Then he did the same to Nicole. He left for a while. When he came back he cleaned your back and hers and rubbed some cream in it before wrapping it up. You passed out. Nicole wasn't as lucky. She was conscious the entire time. Even when he cleaned it. She screamed so much. I think the cleaning hurt her more than the whipping." Amanda tells me. That's awful. I don't know how much of this I can take. We don't see him for another three days. In that time I feel the most unbearable pain I've ever felt. And so does Nicole. The girls have to feed us because we can't move from the position we're in. We can't even go to the bathroom. Not that we really feel the urge to. When he does return he changes our bandages and gives us some pain killers. He brings sandwiches and leaves. Every three days he comes to clean us and give us food. He does that until we are healed enough to not pass out so much from the pain. That takes a month. A whole month of laying there wondering if we're going to die. A whole month of barely eating. A whole month of only using the bathroom when the pain isn't ripping through us. I don't know what happened in that time. I slept more than I was conscious. The same went for the month after that. I wasn't responding to the painkillers and creams the way I was supposed to. One day I heard the word infection. But it didn't matter. I welcomed death. Two and half months in, or so I suspects based on our feeding times and the recollections of the other girls, Nicole was okay again. I was still stuck in bed. She wasn't perfect in health. But she could move and stay awake. By the time I had finally healed enough to live I was extremely weak. I had barely eaten or anything. All of the girls were worried, but I was okay. Until Ashley pissed him off again and several of us stood up for her. Then we all got sick. We were all in and out of consciousness for several weeks. He later told us he poisoned us. Not enough to cause death. But enough to make us delusional and ill. Kimber, Nicole, and I probably had it the worst. Kimber was young, and Nicole and I were still weak. We all lived. But none of us liked eating after that. If it wasn't packaged we didn't eat it. Occasionally he'd let Aria or Ashley up and they'd cook for us. Those were the only times we ate. The next 8 months are very much of the same. Us not trusting him, him beating us. And it was always for the same thing. After the poisoning I realized he had to be a doctor or med student or something. Because he had to have access to a hospital for some of the stuff he had. He would beat us for not talking to him, he would beat us for talking back, he would beat us for not moving fast enough and he would beat us if our room wasn't clean enough. Not that it made sense. We might as well have been living outside, the whole basement was dirty and soon enough so was I. We had one bathroom with a toilet and a sink. No shower. And the sink only gave cold water. Attempting to bathe was difficult and useless. We kept clean the parts that mattered, when we could. We found we were too tired, bruised, and beaten to do much most days. Eventually it became obvious that Ashley was pregnant. I don't know when it happened. Sometime after I got here. Probably when I was sick. I'm surprised it didn't die. Unfortunately it is Lucas's. Fortunately she was the only one he messed with like that. She liked it. Much more than she should have. Much more than any one of us would expects. One night Lucas came and told her the baby would be coming soon. And he was right. Shortly after that her water broke. Luckily Sarah's mom was a birth maid and Sarah tagged along a number of times. Lucas told us he would be leaving to get things for the baby. Of course we thought that would be a perfect time to escape and we managed to get the door open with some of the tools we had for the birth. Thankfully none of us were chained to our beds that day either. I volunteered to go first to see if he was really gone, since he didn't hit me as much as he hit the other girls anymore. Although when he did hit me I always got it the worst out of everyone. I walk up the stairs and find where my parents are. As I try to undo their chains he comes back. With scissors, rope, and a bag. I start panicking and call for my dad crying. Of course he can't help because he's still chained to the table. A heavy cement looking thing. My mom doesn't do anything but stare. I pick up a chair with intent to hit him with it when he approaches.
"What are you going to do with that. I'd fuck you up before you even got the chance." He gestures with the scissors. Of course I know I can't fight him. But giving in seems almost ridiculous given he only has the scissors. As far as I can see anyway. But I know I'd just piss him off if I don't listen. I put the chair down again.
"Fine, I'll go. But only if you put the scissors down." He does and I walk toward him. He moves aside and I start walking in front of him. He grabs me by the back of the neck and presses himself against me as we walk. I can feel his hard length pressed against my bum. He laughs.
"I'm going to enjoy this." And instead of putting me back with the others he puts me in a room in the back of the main floor. Far away from my parents. In the room there's nothing but plastic all over the floor and a white table. There's also a chair and a place in the ground you can connect chains to. He notices me looking at it.
"I have no intention of tying you up again. This particular door locks in a multitude of ways on the outside. And this room is connected to my bedroom. So we'll be spending a lot of time together." He winks and walks away again. All I can do is cry. He intends to rape me. Over and over again. And I tell him as much when he asks why I'm crying. He says "Things could be worse. You could be the others who are getting punished for trying to escape." I snort and say,
"You will be punishing me." A sadistic grin spreads across his face.
"You won't be getting punished like they are. Trust me, you'll enjoy it." And then he walks away shutting the door. I wait a moment realizing I can't hear anything outside of this room. Of course its sound proof like the basement. I stand up and walk to the door to see if it's truly locked and it is. It won't budge. I walk to the other door that must belong to his bedroom and see that that door has no lock. Not on this side anyway. I try to open it and it does. I go straight away to all of the other doors in his room to see that the only one unlocked is in the bathroom. I don't even remember the last time I actually got to shower. So I take one. If he's going to punish me for coming in here I might as well enjoy it. Not wanting to put back on my grimy underwear and shirt I search through his things. Surprisingly he has a drawer full of female things. Underwear, bras, and some lacy things I hope he never expects me to wear. I grab the most normal looking pair of underwear. Unfortunately none of the bras will fit. I keep searching for a shirt finally settling for a plain black one that must be his. I sit on the edge of the bed waiting for him to come find me. When maybe ten more minutes pass I say screw it and crawl onto the middle of the king sized bed, curl into a ball, and sleep.