Teenage Baby

Chapter 29

Chapter 29:

One week.

It had been one full week.

Seven complete torturous days of continuous acting. Aaron hadn't messed up once; he'd stuck to his plan, not once rebelling against them and instead only fooling them with large innocent eyes and tricking smiles. He'd stepped over his pride when it had towered like a devil by his shoulder and begged him to stop the act, to lash out at the captors, yell and fight. But he hadn't let that side of him empower.

As the days had progressed, he found himself growing boiling frustration in his chest. But just like he'd been acting like he loved them, he managed to act like he was breathing fine; like the air he exhaled did not carry along the burning fire of anger swarming in his chest. Like his soul wasn't aching with each passing second he spent with them. It was driving him crazy—the amount of brewing emotion he had to keep tame and contained inside of him. Because as it turned out, acting like he was content about the situation and that he loved them, was much, much worse than just being obedient.

But all this was going to end; all the humiliation was going to end, and it was the only idea that kept him sane and grounded. Without the possibility of escape, Aaron knew he would've lost it long ago.

And now it all paid off.

He was escaping today.

It all was going to end at night; just some hours away.

He'd decided the day before that it was time; he'd figured everything out and he'd gained enough trust during the full week of precise acting.

Now, it was still early morning and he was still soundly asleep on his bare stomach, one arm beneath the pillow and the other over it just by his head.

But he wasn't in his crib. He was on Mommy and Daddy's bed, between them. He'd demanded to sleep beside them just so he'd keep them awake. Exhaust them so they wouldn't wake up on him when he'd escape. But he put it out as: I'm scared, Mommy. I wanna sleep beside you, please?

She'd agreed. Aaron hadn't let them sleep properly. He made Mommy stroke his back for hours and Daddy play with his hair because "it helped him sleep" as he'd innocently explained. When he felt they were drowsing off, he'd kicked them so they'd wake up again and he'd demanded them to continue. And they did.

When he'd finally let them and himself sleep, he'd woken up quite sweaty and hot sometime during the night (probably just his touch aversion kicking in), so he'd kicked away the quilt and taken off his sweater and kept himself with the sweatpants, leaving his bare back on display.

Now, Mommy woke up before Aaron. She leant her head against the headboard and watched him in his sleep beside her. She hadn't taken it as a habit for the heck of it; she just enjoyed watching him in the calmest state he could be in. There was always a fear of losing her baby looming over her love to him, and watching him assured her of his presence, that he wouldn't just disappear.

And as her eyes traced the edges and contours of his slim back, dipping with its gentle slope, she realized that some of the bruises that had taken up most of the space in large livid patches of black and blue were fading away. They weren't as prominent as they'd been before, and now the pink scars that stood out against his skin and the small burn marks were stealing the spot light. She wished they'd fade away too as she reached her hand to them; she wished they weren't really there. She wished those jagged edges that her fingertips gently smoothed over were just some crispy, dried paints she could wipe off.

She cringed slightly when she went over his protruding shoulder blade, and the movement roused Aaron from his sleep. He stirred slightly then opened his eyes, taking in the captor right in front of him. It didn't surprise him anymore. He'd woken up to her by his side more than once, and he'd realized that she just liked to do that. Creepiness was in her blood or something. Aaron slowly sat up, smiling.