Only Through Pain [Collab with kayfiles]

Chapter One [ZiaRenee]

"Here, kitty kitty."

Kitra was silent and still as she pressed herself against the back of her closet, trying to force her flesh with the chipping paint. She slowly slid down the wall and crouched in the corner, hoping the hanging shirts and long winter coats would shield her in some way. They were fearsome against the winter, but they were ultimately no match for the horrors that were approaching now. She had gone through the motions of this atrocity many times. Too many times. Yet it still scared her shitless. Again and again, she desperately tried to hide in the closet. It was stifling. It was mere inches taller than her and she couldn't stretch her arms out to her sides. But the suffocating conditions gave her a sense of false security. The closet made her feel trapped, sealed off from everything else save for the faded, vomit green paint and her rather pathetic wardrobe. She was alone and stuck, doomed to suffocate in a box too small to turn around in. And she liked it that way. If she was trapped inside, everything else was trapped outside.

But that was never the case.

"Here, kitty kitty. Mommy has a new collar for you."

Kitra hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, silently mouthing a prayer. At this point, she had given up on a God, but she still prayed in case he hadn't given up on her. Kitra could hear footsteps in the hall outside her bedroom. The rotting hardwood floors were creaking louder and louder with each step as the voice drew nearer and nearer. A cold sweat dripped down Kitra's spine and she had to focus to quiet her raspy, shallow breathing. She was terrified. The footsteps stopped and she could hear her bedroom door burst open. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Through the crack of her closet door, Kitra saw Patricia standing in the doorway of her room, holding a long, shiny silver chain that lead to a thick, black leather collar with a golden bell. Kitra swallowed her nerves and squeezed her eyes shut again, hoping that if she didn't see Patricia, she wouldn't really be there.

Patricia looked around the room and jiggled the chain in her hand, the sound of clanking metal bouncing off the walls. She chuckled darkly and took a step into the room, slamming shut the door behind her.

"Where is my pretty kitty?" she called out. Her voice was high pitched and scary, like somebody had sewn their worst nightmares into a teddy bear.

Patricia crossed over to Kitra's bed, which was really just a pile of blankets strewn on the hardwood floor in the middle of the room. Besides that, the only other things in the room were a dresser with empty drawers, a foldable chair covered in rust, and two bowls in the corner labeled "Water" and "Food". The room was void of lamps and windows, the only light coming from the crack beneath the bedroom door. Patricia reached down and sifted through the stained sheets and blankets until she found a different leather collar. It was mud brown and frayed at the edges, altogether looking worn out and shabby. She grabbed it between her fingers and threw it at the closet door, startling Kitra into a fit of muffled cries.

"Come out, kitty. I want you to try this on." Patricia cooed, rattling the chains in her hand again.

She crossed to the closet and yanked open the door. Kitra cowered in the corner, shaking violently and sobbing at full force now, no longer silent and careful. Patricia frowned and reached for the girl, but she shied away, pressing herself into the wall even more. Kitra could feel the peeling paint sticking to her sweaty back. Patricia reached for her again and grabbed a fistful of Kitra's dull, straw like blonde hair and tugged, lifting the girl's tear stained face up. Patricia tugged again and Kitra stood on wobbly knees. If Patricia tugged just a bit harder, she could lift Kitra right off the ground. Kitra was a small thing, her ribs and hipbones protruding from just beneath her pasty skin. You could tell she was sickly thin though she wore a yellow sundress which looked more like settled urine than daisy yellow. The dull dress sported several tears and large stains. It was apparent that it hadn't been washed in ages. All the clothes in the closet seemed that way.