Blood Red (Adopted by Cannibals)

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Over the course of the next week, I made sure to listen to what I was told. I have managed to avoid being punished. I am still made to clean the upstairs, much to my dismay. Fortunately, I have considerably adjusted to the long hours of labour making it slightly easier. I make sure that I clean every inch of every room first, before going back to the parts and places that require more attention. This is usually either a bedroom which has clothing thrown all over the place and needs more vacuuming or one of the many bathrooms which need to be scrubbed down from floor to ceiling. By the time dinner comes along, I am exhausted, both mentally and physically. We don't have lunch so I am starved by the time the boys come in. It is hard to force myself to keep going, to keep cleaning and cooking. I fear that Dad will punish me again if I make a mistake, or if I don't do as told. Over this passed weak I have been working on several escape plans although though without being able to get outside each plan comes to a crashing halt. There is no way that they will willingly let me out for fresh air other than the chicken coop and the door is always locked. I wonder if one day they will stop locking the door. This will probably happen when they trust me when they are sure I am part of their family and won't run. They won't trust me anytime soon. Breaking a window is no option either for me. I attempted to break my room window a few days ago while getting ready for bed and before Dad came to lock me to the bed. My hand only ended up bruising instead and no broken window. And by the way don't recommend it, it hurts like a bitch. Of course, I had to explain the bruise later, or rather lie about it as I had no intention of being punished. As if I would ever tell them that I was trying to escape, that is a whole new kind of suicide. And I am not that desperate. Yet. Let's hope I get out soon.

I love going out to feed the chickens, it is the only little bit of freedom I have, the only escape I get from this family and cleaning. Unfortunately though, I only get a couple of minutes a day, enough time to gather the eggs -if there are any- and feed the chickens. Sometimes I even managed to have enough time to just enjoy the fresh air, The taste of freedom before I am called back inside by an impatient Ann telling me to get to my chores. The eggs lain by the chickens are usually used for cooking and backing when we have time. 'Mum' always makes a bread, generally, she makes one every day and occasionally every second day depending on the number of eggs available. I have been told that we only have eggs in the morning on special occasions so regrettably, it is just porridge for me in the mornings.

Dinners are usually spent by me remaining quiet and the family making small talk. Most nights they would try to involve me in their conversation but whenever I bring up my birth family. It always results in them getting angry and telling me something along the lines of; 'We do not talk about your birth family.' Or; 'we are glad that they brought you into this world but its time to forget them now'. I want to cry every time they tell me that, but I don't. I manage to hold it in until I'm in my room and I'm sure they've all gone to bed. This is the only time I feel like I get to have truly to myself. But with my hand always chained to the headboard, it is impossible to get comfortable and along with the Blood Red room, I can not get comfortable. Well, I guess I better get used to it as it is my favourite colour. . .

Over the course of this week, my new family has made the rules very clear. One; I will not cry, there is no room in this family for the weak. Two; I will not talk about my birth family. Three; I will not yell. And lastly four; I will not ask to go outside, my family knows what is best for me. I have overstepped each of these boundaries but somehow had managed to escape punishment. They are being lenient while I am adjusting to my new life as they put it. Nevertheless, they did make me learn each of the rules and forced me to repeat them back. Every night for this past week dad would come to my room and quiz me on the four before letting me sleep. It scares me how they try to brainwash me into being part of their family. I don't want to but I have no choice. So I obey like a good little girl and tell them the rules and listen to what I'm told. It's not worth me being punished for something as small as that. If I can just manage to escape then I can tell the police all they did and they will be locked away forever. I do feel a little back for the boy's thought, they grew up with these two and don't know any better. But maybe the same goes for Ann and the man. They probably don't know any better either.