Gabriel's Protégée : Guided-Provided-Protected-Loved(Forever Bound-2)

Prologue

Song of the Chapter:Imagine Dragons - Bleeding Out

Tapping the broken pen against my temple, I do my best to focus. For weeks, I've been confined like a zoo animal being acclimatized to its new cage. I've been fed, washed, and given medical attention from my rough arrival. I have a bed with sheets, a flushing toilet, and shampoo in the shower. I have the basics that all human and nonhuman life required.

But I'm not living.

I am dying.

They just can't see it.

Wait...I know.

Inspiration strikes as I come up with the perfect name to address this sad journal to. The title is the only right in this wrong, wrong new world.

To No One.

The moment I press those three words onto my parchment, I can't stop the memories unfolding.

My left hand shakes as I keep the toilet tissue flat while my right flows, slowly transcribing my past.

I WAS TWENTY ONE when I died.

I remember that day better than any other in my short life. And I know you're rolling your eyes, saying it only happened three weeks ago, but believe me, I will never forget it. I know some people say certain events imprint on their psyche forever, and up until now, I haven't had anything stick in such a way. You see, No One, I guess you could've called me a brat. Some might even say I deserve this. No, that's a lie. No one would wish this on their worst enemy. But the fact remains, only you know I'm not dead. I'm alive and in this cell about to be sold. I've been hurt, touched, violated in every sense but rape, and stripped of everything I used to be.

But to Myself? I'm dead. I died. Who knows if I'll ever find myself back.

The scribbling of Gabriel's pen stops. I suck in a shaky breath, before pressing my lips together and grounding my teeth, willing the tremors to stop.

For two week, all I've had for entertainment were my chaotic thoughts, the taunting voice, awful memories, partial amnesia and overwhelming panic of what lies ahead.

Taking another deep breath, I shove aside my current conditions and clutch the pen harder. The glint on the top of the cap drawn my gaze and I tilt the column to find GB embossed in gold on a black coin, set on the clip.

Glancing at the door I make sure Gabriel is still in his home-office, so I spread out my square of toilet tissue, making it tight and writable, and continue with my note.

I don't know if anyone will ever see this but you, No One, but if they do, I hope they forget what

I'm about to admit.

If I ever survive this, and by some miracle if I'm free again, I'll keep this next part to myself.

I love Gabriel, but I hate him.

I miss being close to him, but I never want to see him again.

I want him to order me around, so I want to defy him.

I want his obsessions hitting me hard.

I want his various degrees of fucking.

I want his count down.

But I want to curse him for eternity.

He's the only one I can blame.

Because being with him makes me want to feel.