Unforgivable Lacerations

Chapter Twenty-Four

I had devoured the two bottles of water, taking little sips that lasted me two days. The food was gone before the nightfall when Jacob gave it to me, leaving me to cry in hunger. My bladder had been threatening to fail and all I could do was watch the sun fall and rise- ignoring the searing pain in my stomach. 

"He isn't coming back," I would chant over and over, one simple sentence could be the death of me. There were so many things I could have died from, starvation, dehydration, or jumping out of the attic window that I was tempted to smash. All possibilities sounded unpleasant.

But a beggar wasn't a chooser. 

The scratches that dug into the wooden door from my now bloodied and broken nails were signs of my animalistic side that every human hid behind their manners. I would cry, growl and scream, trying to rip the door down, but it was no use. I was only a mere human. When the sun fell and the moon was hidden behind the density of the clouds, the blood handprints around the room would disappear. But the pain never did.

The hunger and desperate need for hydration stayed, I could hear my stomach cry to me, what felt like every minute. The forming bruises were tender, preventing drastic movement, and the gashes around my body were tied up by tears of fabric. I was hardly a doctor, but I knew that if these injuries became infected, it could become serious. 

Jacob opened the door on day eleven- I was still counting the days from when this all started, and I would scratch the markings on the inner side of the bed when I could- humming a melody I couldn't be bothered to recognize. My eyes flashed straight to the tray he was holding, bottles of water, a plate, and fruit. I tried to maneuver myself so I could stand up from the window ceil but my muscles had frozen into place and the slightest movement jarred an agonizing pain, I couldn't prevent the whimper at the resulting pain to my failure of trying to move.

"It's a good look, Isabella." Jacob sadistically grinned. "The whole begging and in need, especially because if you do something wrong I can kill you by just not coming back." He continued to walk to me, looking around at the bloodstained surroundings and the scratched walls with an amused expression that was sickening. "I like what you have done with the place. It's very...what's the word?" He paused, thinking of a suitable word and drawing out the suspense. "You." 

Jacob then stopped in the middle of the attic, half way between me and the door and placed the tray on the floor. It took everything in me not to run and show him my vulnerability by stuffing my mouth with the food. "Not hungry?" he queried, expecting me to be on my hands and knees by now, begging. He raised an eyebrow. "If that's the case then, I'll take it back." He started to bend down, extending his arms to lift the food and water, my life source, the things keeping me alive, out of the room. 

"NO!" My dry voice cracked a scream, reminding me quickly of a male teenager's voice break. But unlike an adolescent, it wasn't normal for my voice to be so arid.

He stopped in his crouched position, looking utterly predatory as if he was about to pounce. 

"So you are?" I nodded as much of a nod I could without making myself dizzy. "Alright." He stood up, never leaving my gaze. "You need to be more grateful for food, Isabella. I don't work at Near Bay for nothing." Before now, I didn't know where Jacob worked, just the hours he did. Near Bay was La Push's doctor's clinic, much smaller than Forks. 

"Are you training to be a doctor?" I asked quietly, just so he would forget about me being 'ungrateful'. 

"God no! Receptionist. I didn't tell you, did I?" he questioned. Silence followed as he looked as if he was waiting for something. What was I supposed to do? What was he waiting for? I would have shifted uncomfortably under his tense glare, but my tender limbs forbade me from doing so.