Split

The Room

I sat on the hard bed in the makeshift room and waited for signs of movement outside. It had been at least a few hours since the other girls had been separated from me and I was beginning to tremble at the thought of being alone in the cold little room.
Claire and Marcia weren't exactly my friends at school, I was always an outcast, but I would have given anything to have them back with me.
I wasn't sure how long we'd been here, maybe a few days alredy, but I was hungry and exhausted.
I shivered as I brought my legs up to hug my knees. The door opened outside and I froze.
I wondered which one it would be this time-I hoped it was Hedwig as he was the easiest to get along with, and the easiest to trick if I got the chance. He was also the only one that I wasn't afraid of.

The lock clicked as the door to my room opened and Dennis stepped into the doorway. I shrunk back a little; I'd rather him be here than Patricia but he was still threatening, and his stoney eyes met mine. He had some cleaning equipment in his right hand and dropped it just inside the doorway. He didn't say anything as he turned to leave, but loneliness got the better of me and I sat up quickly, "Wait"
He looked back at me questioningly.
"I'm sorry... I... I don't want to be alone."

"So you'd rather be with me?" He looked mildly surprised and I nodded once. He looked reluctant to come in, maybe wondering what I was up to, before stepping back into the room, "what do you want?"

"I just don't want to be on my own in here... I'm scared." I looked away, embarrassed that I was weak enough to talk to the man that had abducted me, let alone be begging to spend time with him.

"You'll be okay soon, you will reach your potential. We'll help you."

"How? What does that mean?" I suddenly regretted starting conversation.

"You have never suffered, you've always had everything handed to you and no one has ever let you become anything more than a spoilt child."

"You don't know anything about me," I almost snapped, anger getting the better of me.

"Should I?" He dusted the sheet on my mattress and perched opposite me.

"Why would it matter what's happened to me?"

"It might be the difference between life and death" he said bluntly and I gulped.
I slowly lifted my shirt to show the scars on my stomach and he gasped, though that could have been from seeing my bare skin just as much as it could have been from the shock of the marks.
"Who did that to you?"

"Me," I confessed, "my uncle... he..." I trailed off, leaving him to come to the conclusion himself.

"He... abused you?"

"He still does. I had to move in with him when my dad died."

He looked almost sickened, his expression was an odd mixture that I couldn't read, "you... shouldn't be here."

I was relieved to hear those words, but I knew he couldn't let me go now; I knew too much.
"So what am I doing here? What do you plan to do with me?"

"I don't know yet. I need to talk to Patricia, this wasn't supposed to happen..." he gazed down at my stomach again and I quickly hid the exposed flesh from his wandering eyes. He met my gaze once more, a look of guilt flashed in his features, before backing up to the door, "I'll be back soon."

He strode out of the room and locked the door behind him, letting the fear creep back into me and I curled up on the bed.