Black Rose

Long day.

I barely slept.

The pain came in waves, both mental and physical. The few moments I fell asleep I woke drenched I sweat, trying to get rid of the feeling of his hands on my body, his groans echoing around my head.

I spent most of the night crying. If it even was night. I didn't know anymore. There were no clocks down there, and I had no way of seeing the daylight above. I didn't know how much time had passed since Gwen left. The hours seemed to drag on as I was lying there, semi-awake. I considered getting up and moving around, but I couldn't find the strength.

Hunger embedded itself inside me. The emptiness turned to cramps, my stomach aching with the need for food. I wondered how long it had been without food. Maybe a day. Maybe two. I didn't know anymore.

I fell into some kind of fever for a while. I felt sick and nauseous, and my vision swam every time I opened my eyes.

I saw Blake in a dreamlike haze, standing over me with a look of concern on his face. I was so out of it, I couldn't tell if it was even real. He lifted me up and made me drink something, and I had a vague recollection of being fed yogurt, then he was gone, and I fell back into a restless sleep.

When I came to again, he was sitting beside me, and my head was throbbing. He gave me a smug smile.

"Good morning, my rose. Don't move too quickly. We don't want you passing out."

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't form any words. My brain was dense and muddled. Blake rested a hand on my leg.

"Don't worry about speaking either. Just leave the talking to me."

He smirked and rubbed my leg, then reached beside me to the bedside table and picked up a metal keep cup, with a straw poking out of it.

"Here, my rose. Drink this. You need to get your energy back up."

He held the cup out towards me, and I tentatively accepted it, and took a sip.

I immediately gagged. The drink was lumpy and foul, and tasted awful. Blake chuckled at my expression. "I know it isn't the best, but it's the best you're going to get at the moment, so drink up."

I shook my head and held the cup out towards him, gagging still. He let out a sigh of agitation.

"Drink it, my Rose. Or I'll make you drink it." His voice had a dark undertone to it, and I didn't want to find out what he meant. Slowly, I brought the straw back to my lips and took a sip. It was somehow even worse than the first, and I could barely swallow without throwing up. But I managed to get it down, and swallowed down another mouthful. The more I drank, the easier it was to swallow.

"Good girl, my rose. Drink up. You have a long day ahead of you." He said, then stood up, as if reminding himself he had things to do. He gestured to a set of clothes at the end of the bed and smiled at me. "Once you're finished your breakfast, go have a shower and get dressed, then meet me in the gym."

I had no idea how I was going to be able to do anything in the gym with my body feeling so weak and drained, but I didn't have the strength to argue so I just nodded. Blake threw me an almost proud smile.

"Don't be slow. I don't like to be kept waiting." He said, and with that, he left.

Resentfully, I slurped up the rest of the drink and pulled aside the sheets to climb out of bed.

I froze and stared down at my body, covered in black and blue bruises and scars. At some point in the past few days, the dressing covering my wounds was ripped away, and no one ever bothered to put it back on, so the angry red marks are on full display across my stomach, a misshapen word carved across my flesh.