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Prologue
RAELYN
Light barely filtersthrough the crack of the dirty drapes of the room, my gaze catching on the particles of dust that are floating all around. My room—well, cage—is dusty and smells of mold and whatever has died in the walls. The windows are covered in a film of dirt, and combined with the drapes, it keeps this cage barely lit during the day.
The carpet is filthy and torn. Worn from where I have walked in circles on it. Blood and bodily fluids stain it. I have no recollection of what the actual color of this carpet should be.
The walls used to have a floral wallpaper that I have peeled off since I have been here. And I have no idea how long I’ve been here. Dust lines every crevice; the fan above me, which doesn’t work, is layered in it. My lungs are probably black from me breathing all this crap in.
And maybe that will make my death quicker. Maybe I should be thankful for that.
The springs in the mattress dig into my back as I lie on it. It’s barely a bed, but it keeps me off the floor. By like three inches, that is. And at least I’m not sleeping on the floor. Not thatthis mattress is any cleaner than the carpet, but I will take my chances with at least having a bit of awful comfort over none.
My dirty dishes sit in a corner of the room from the last paltry meal he fed me. If I’m lucky, I get two or three meals. If not, I get one a day.
I have no concept of time in my cage. I can’t remember things, and everything is blurry. A lot of my memory is fuzzy, hazy. But when I do get some clarity, I get to stare into the black hole of this cage.
There are books in here, and sometimes I read them, but it’s hard for me to concentrate. Or I forget where I am in the book or what the story is about.
Time doesn’t exist here. I don’t remember why I came to this place. Or how. My body hurts from the abuse at his hands. I’m tired, and I spend most nights on high alert, because when I fall asleep, that’s when he comes in to do unspeakable things to me.
He makes me call him Sir. I have no idea what his name is. I have no idea how I know him or how he got me. And I only know what he calls me: Raelyn. Is that my name? I have no fucking clue.
I wish I could remember myself. I feel so frozen inside. So lost.
This room and the adjoining bathroom are all I know. They are all I can remember. It’s my past, my present, and what I hope will not be my future. But with every day that ends and each new one that begins, I lose hope that I will even escape. I lose hope that someone who knows who I am will actually find me.
I’m staring at the discolored wall when the door slams open, and it startles me out of my thoughts. Looking up, I see his shit-brown eyes staring at me.
My lips curl in disgust. He isn’t unattractive by any means, but he is a vile human being. And it makes him the most disgusting and ugly person alive. His T-shirt clings to him, andhis sweatpants are ratty and stained. His jet-black hair is slicked back, his fists clenched at his sides.
He looks angry. And that isn’t good for me.
I back up against the wall, my eyes widening in fear at what he plans to do to take his anger out on me. I can feel my body start to shake as he steps into the room.
“Why are you not greeting me, pet?” he growls.
“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry, Sir. I forgot,” I stutter through my words. Holding up my hands, I repeat what he wants me to say, “Hello, Sir. I missed you today. I-I’m so glad you are home.”
Usually, I hear him come into the house, and it gives me enough time to prepare for the onslaught of abuse I will suffer at his hands. The assault my body will take from him. Even when I don’t remember what he does to me, I still feel it. My body won’t dare let me forget.
He huffs and takes a step into the room. “You know, I’m beginning to think you don’t mean a single word of it, pet.”
“N-No. I do, Sir.” I watch every step he takes, fear creeping up my spine, and my mind preparing for the shutdown it’s about to do. My body already hurts from the blows I took earlier.
“If my pet did, then she would be on her knees, greeting me as a good pet would. But there you fucking sit, stuttering your fucking way through my greeting.” He walks over to my books on the floor and picks up one of them. “Pets that misbehave don’t get toys to play with.” And with that, he rips the pages from the book.
“No!” I let out a scream as my only bit of sanity is torn to shreds before my eyes.
They are my escape from this reality. A window to a different life. And he is shredding all hope I have to escape once he is done with me. His eyes flit to the paper cup on the floor filled with the pills I didn’t take, his jaw tightening.
“You didn’t take your vitamins, pet. Why didn’t you take them?”
Spit flies from his mouth as his face turns red. He stomps over to the bed as his arm raises up toward the ceiling. My reaction is too slow as his hand comes down hard across my face.
I let out a scream from the burning pain along my cheek, when suddenly I’m being dragged by the back of my head. His dirty, rough hands are pulling on my hair, moving me to the floor. He straddles my body and wraps a hand around my throat.
“Now, be a good pet and take your vitamins,” he commands.