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Chapter 7

Dayana's POV

I can nearly sit because of the great pain. I've been lying here for hours it seems like. I look around my surroundings. The door, the stairs. I must be in the entrance. On the floor there is blood. I then remember. Greta whipped me and removed my bandage. My nose. I touch my body. It stings like a million needles going in at once. My body is weak and fragile, and I can barely move. She is cruel. A cruel witch is what she is. She will never change or have mercy.

I try to get up. I screw my eyes shut and reach for a nearby table. With as much strength as I have, I pull myself up on my knees, then slowly get myself up on my feet. I walk really slowly in agony, never letting go of the nearby furniture. I need as much support as I can get.

I hold on to the railing of the stairs. I get on my knees and begin to crawl up them. It hurts like hell, I can't stand it. It feels like hours when I finally get to the door of the attic. I open it and finally get myself on to the bed. I fall asleep instantly even though the pain stays with me.

I wake up early in the morning. My body still hurts all over. I've regained some energy so I put my shoes on and walk to the door. There are some towels, water, painkillers, alcohol, and bandages. I put them on my bed and walk to the restroom that is in my "room." I'm afraid to look.

I remove my shirt and bra. I look in the mirror. The wounds are fresh and there are many deep cuts into my flesh. I sigh. I get the alcohol and add it to a towel, I rub it on my back. It stings so bad! I clench my fist and hold in the pain. I add some water to my body and clean off what I can. I wrap the bandage around my whole front and back, covering my breasts and stomach. I put a shirt over my head and begin to remove my pants. There are cuts and fresh blood and skin on my thighs and legs. I apply more alcohol on the bloody towel and dab it on the cuts. After I am finished, I clean my legs with water and wipe them off. I add the bandage and put on some clean pants.

I clean everything up and leave the bathroom. I grab the knob of the door and turn it. It won't open. It's locked. I push the door but it won't budge.

They've locked me in. Why would they do this? I sigh and walk back to my bed. I reach under the bed and fumble with things. I finally find my journal in my bag and look for a pencil in my drawer.

I sit on my bed and begin to write. The last time I wrote in here it was January.

21 March, 1959

Dear diary,

It's been almost a month since I've written "in here, and let me tell you, it's been very crazy.

Let me just get to the point. Paul and I. Relationship. Buddy Holly. Ritchie Valens. The Day The Music Died. Greta. Broken nose.

That pretty much sums everything up in short snappy sentences. By the way, Greta locked my up here so I have nothing else to do with my time. I can hear my stomach grumble. When was the last time I ate? I really don't remember anything, but it was dark and dusty. (Mrs. PotatoHead)

I guess that is it for right now. I hope I wrote soon again. See you soon (hopefully.)

Dayana

I set my journal on top of my drawer and got up again. I begin to clean my room since I'm locked in here for who knows when.

Paul's POV

I couldn't sleep last night. I had nightmares of Dayana being hurt. It killed me inside. I woke up several times during the night drenched with sweat. I've never had this feeling. When the one you love is being hurt, you would do anything for her. Even if I means dying. That is what I felt for Dayana. An everlasting love that would never die out. True love is for eternity.

I can't concentrate during arithmetic. My head is going crazy with the things that could be happening to her right now. I excuse myself from class and run to the bathroom. I splash my face with cold water. The water seems to calm me a bit but not for long. I feel my throat clog up and my stomach squirm.

I run to the toilet, barely making it in time. I vomit inside the toilet. The only thing that comes out is blood. I didn't eat or drink anything this morning. I flush away the pain and walk back to class. My stomach then feels weird for the rest of the day.

I grab my stuff and begin walking to my car. I can barely hold everything at once and my things fall on the ground. I silently cuss and begin to pick everything up.

"Need some help?" an unfamiliar voice comes up. I quickly pick everything up, " No thank you, I got it." the girl looks at me. She has glasses and braces. She looks like one of those girls you would call a nerd. She had dark brown hair that was put in to a side braid, and shiny blue eyes.

"Oh okay, sorry to bother." she begins to leave.

"Thanks by the way." I yell out as she waves to me and nods before she completely disappears.

.

I get home and drop my keys onto the bed. I lay down and begin to wonder what could Dayana be doing right now. I never really knew what she liked to do on her spare time. She had told me that she loved to sing even though she was bad at it. I slightly laughed, imagining her grabbing her hairbrush, jumping on the bed and singing her heart out.

2 Days Later

Dayana hasn't been at school and I am really starting to worry about her. Should I go see what's up? Greta will slit my throat if I do, might as well take the risk. Life life at the moment and take risks.

My car stops in front of her house. I take a couple of deep breaths before getting out. Well it's now or never.

I knock on her door, the knock being barely audible. I wait a couple seconds before the door opens slightly.

It's one of Dayana's stepsisters. At least it isn't Greta, "Hello?"

"Hello." this is very awkward, "Is Dayana here?"

She hesitates for a second, "Paul, I really need to tell you something."

My stomach churns, "What is it?"

"Greta locked Dayana in the room days ago. She hasn't even fed her and I can't do anything about it. I can't even see her face. Im really worried. I don't even know what to do right now. I really care about her. I don't know when Greta will let her out, but I hope soon." A tear falls down her cheek and I wipe it away.

"It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay," I repeated this until she stopped crying, rubbing her shoulder. Bella wasn't a bad person, she truly cared about my Dayana. And that was all the really mattered. Dayana would still be safer with Bella around.

Dayana's POV

My body feels very weak. It's beginning to become accustomed to not eating. How long is Greta going to keep this going? Until I die of starvation? It sure looks like it.

It's already March 24. I've been keeping track of the days it's been just so I have something to do and so I won't go crazy.

But there's another problem I've been having, my head has been hurting like hell. I don't think it's a headache because it's been hurting since I've been locked up in here. Maybe it's because I haven't been eating. I sure hope so.

I'm going to bed now. My whole body needs as much energy as it can get.

Guys, I'm sorry!!! this chapter is super sucky. I know!! And my chapters are getting shorter. I will try to make next chapter longer, but I can't promise it. I don't know what's gotten into me since I can't even think of what to write. 1,000,000 apologies once again.