DIRTY BULLETS

chapter fourteen

LETTING OUT A soft gasp of pain, my face scrunched up in discomfort as my fingers were caught in the tangles of my hair. I spread my fingers wide to try and separate the knot that had matted on my head, an exhale of triumph leaving me when I brushed the tangle out successfully with my hands.

This was really what it had come to, my only amusement being able to brush my hair with my fingers. If you had told me last month that this would be the peak entertainment I would be experiencing in the not so distant future, I would've snorted. And yet here we are.

It was the late evening, a few hours after Harry had left me with his usual threats of aggression and I couldn't deny that the surprising good news he gave had put me in a light mood, much to my shock. I was still bored and defeated, but the idea that there was nothing torturous waiting for me as a result of last night was something that added a little brightness to my day. It didn't go unnoticed that that was a fucked thing to lift my mood, that I wouldn't have to face cruel consequences to my decision of leaving a room I was confined to, but I was slowly beginning to accept that these were my circumstances and everything about this was fucked. So I didn't question it as much.

Though one thing I very much did question was why I wasn't reprimanded for what I did, but the answer to that was on Will.

I didn't know Will, not in the slightest. Although he brought me food and water, and although he had shown small – miniscule - mercies when I had been in the basement, that didn't change my opinion of him, didn't shift it in the slightest. Just because he carried out the bare minimum actions of basic fucking humanity didn't mean I was suddenly going to be thankful towards him, that I would be grateful that he was there, giving me minor eases when things were difficult for me. Things were difficult for me because of him and no small act of kindness was going to change my view of him. Although he didn't seem as cruel as Harry, he also didn't do anything to help me, to get me out of here or to even so much as tell me what the hell is going on, why I'm even here. The fact that he didn't do anything to stop what was happening to me made him just as bad as Harry. And I'd be damned the day my perspective changed from that.

But according to Harry, I had him to thank for me not being 'punished'. Again, that didn't make him a better man. It only baffled me and made me doubt his intentions. Why would he do that? There was no reason for him to help me out in that way, not that I could think of anyway. And Harry of course hadn't given me any indication of why either, just that he had given him a reason for me wandering, but never why he gave the reason.

Letting my hand that had been fiddling with my hair flop to my side, I sat up from where I lay on my bed. A heavy huff left my lips when I felt my stomach erupt in a noise that could only be described as a mating call. Speaking of Will bringing me food, he hadn't done so yet today and it was leaving me with hunger pains every hour.

God, what I would do for a burger and chips, or big greasy pizza would definitely defile the ten commandments, but even Will's shitty peanut butter sandwiches would be enough to satisfy me.

And it was as though today was the luckiest day of my life, when I heard that familiar knock at my bedroom door just then, followed by Will poking his head around with a small smile.

"Hi, sorry this is so late – I had some stuff I had to take care of, took longer than it should've." He explained vaguely, now stepping into the room, sandwich on a plate in one hand and glass of water in the other. I could feel my eyes light up at the sight.

Maybe manifesting works.

Handing the plate and glass to me, I set the dish on the comforter next to wear I sat while the glass remained in my other hand, resting against my knee. Picking the shitty sandwich up with my free hand, I didn't waste time in taking a bite from it, my stomach grumbling again as though it was thanking me for feeding it.