My Little Bambi (Completed)

10. My Little Punishment

"Never stop just because you feel defeated. The journey to the other side is attainable only after great suffering."~ Santosh Kalwar 

I woke up my body feeling drained and disgusted after my ordeal.

Laying in the bed from the room he had me in I was thoroughly shocked. I assume I would be in the cellar severely punished for my escape attempt.

Looking down at my wrists they were chained to the bed post as well as my feet. Not even bothering to rise up. I stare at the ceiling hoping that some mystical miracle come and take me away.

The tears fell from my eyes and my life was tangled into despair. There's no where I can go he will always find me. I wanted to know why I always attracted the obsessive type of guys or the losers.

"Good Morning Bambi..." His voice a voice that made me shudder made me numb.

Still staring at the ceiling I just let tears fall. I wish for a sudden death for either one of us. Whichever one goes first didn't matter to me.

"Why is my Bambi crying look sit up we need to talk and you need to eat..." He says and I turn my head away from him along with my back as the chains were long enough for me to move around the bed.

"BAMBI I'M NOT GOING TO REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN!!!" He says and I don't budge at his yelling.

"Then put a bullet in my leg kill me. I don't care as long as I can escape this life it would be heaven in hell after all I went through..." I say as my lips which were dry and cracked tucked into my mouth closing my eyes I hope I could disappear.

Roughly facing me towards him his body pin mines to the bed. He stroke my hair and face before his own tears fell from his face.

"I loved her since I was 19 years old she was my mentor...she taught me all about music and life..." He says out of the blue as his caressing fingers never stopped.

"What?"

"Patrice I loved her and I assume she loved me taking me in during a time where relating to my parents was not on the agenda..." He says as he opens his heart.

"My mother just got remarried and my stepfather was a delinquent asshole who felt like my sense of style and ideas was too sissy for his liking. He wanted to toughen me up even though I fought back. I explain it was just for my music an image to brand my creativity. His abuse against me didn't stop...When you're rich with money you could just do whatever the fuck you want it seems..." He says and now my own psyche is thrown for a loop. He obviously knows that is fact by how he use his wealth.

"The kids in the neighborhood were no better and every fight I lost. He made sure I felt like a piece of meat as he did to me worse than what those kids would do. My mother although loving she never stopped him saying Jack is just trying to make a man out of you..." His tears never stopped as he now laid next to me.

"My father too consumed in his own music career didn't care enough since another man was doing his job...So one day I had enough and with just the clothes on my back and my guitar I left that hell house..." He says as his lips whimpered and his eyes pooled with so many tears the hazel color of his irises were blurry.

"I was virtually homeless and starving. Playing music on the street for tips to survive another day. That's when Patrice found me...She heard me playing and said my music moved her..." He says as a small but sad smirk played against his lips.

As much as I hated to admit this his story pulled me in as my own body shaked a bit. I was able to visualize his words clearly and the little feeling I had left in me ached for him. I wasn't suppose to feel anything for him.