Behind The Lies

Chapter 7: Staying Alive

Charlott's P.O.V

Light suddenly breaks and flashes into my eyes only for a black figure to come into my view, my eyes too used to the dark to make out who it is.

Another one shows up and they walk in and pick me up, the room barely big enough to stand up in, much less stretch out.

They grab me under my arms and much to my protest, they hoist me up making me cry out in pain from the whip marks still scabbing on my back, but now, they probably all just ripped back open.

Tears threaten to break free from my eyes as they drag me through the hall, by holding me by my arms, my legs too weak and stiff to stand after laying down for what felt like a year but can't be more than maybe ten days otherwise I would be dead from dehydration.

Dehydration, I almost wish I could have gone that way, but I need to stay alive for my family when I escape. I need to stay alive for now. But even if I did want to die, if I was presented with water my body would force me to drink it before I would turn my head away.

Food would sound amazing right now too. I learned ten days was the maximum amount of time you can go without water, three weeks without food. And in ten days, my body is already skin and bones again.

I see the heavy metal door and the bars at the end and they simply throw me in there causing a cry to break from my lips before they slip a food tray in with me.

I carefully move my arm over and pull it closer to me, closing my eyes in pain of the movement of my shoulder. I grab the tray and shakily drink little by little all the water that was in the tall glass and after a while, I finish my food.

I push myself up carefully, letting my weight rely on the walls as I lead myself over to the bathroom they have set up in here. It only has a flimsy wooden door, a shower and tub kind of thing and a toilet. No sink even. 

I turn on the water and carefully strip my blood covered clothes that stick to my body. My shirt almost seems like skin when I try and peel it off, pulling the area around the cuts with it when I take it off. 

I grab a small hand towel once the bathtub fills and turn off the water. I clean up the blood leaving only the cuts on my back and grab a new small towel. Despite how awful these people are, for the majority, they try to keep us alive.

I step into the tub and carefully begin to sit down and put the towel in my mouth. I scream and hiss into it and bite down on it as I lower myself into the water that causes my cuts to sting like fire.

My entire body shakes and my muscles contract to the point that it hurts as I try to settle.

I let out a deep breath and take out the towel from my mouth but still grind my teeth just a bit from the sting. 

The water turns a murky brownish red color after a little while at which point I begin to drain it and turn on the shower to wash off everything else, again, the stings on my back reminding me that they are there like a loud and clear bell.

After a while, I finish getting the old blood off of my back and go back to the front of the room to the bars and carefully adjust my back against them so that none of my injuries touch the bars or stretch.

"How's your back," a voice sounds that is slowly sounding more and more poisonous.

I stay silent and slowly pull my knees up to my chest.

I feel a hand on my shoulder making me flinch and jump away from the bars only causing a hiss to break from my lips as my back burns.

I turn towards Owen with tears in my eyes.