Page 42

Chapter Eight
Chiara
Ican’t remember when I was taken.
How long has it been now?
Days?
Weeks?
Months?
I’m losing track of everything. Every single moment spent in this place only feels like another step into madness. I don’t know what to think any more. I don’t know how to feel.
They haven’t harmed me, and they’ve been good to me.
But how can I believe the goodness in their actions?
They’ve taken me from everything I’ve ever known, and now, they’re playing a sick game of love.
Love.
The word haunts me.
They’ve done a good job at forcing it onto me, ruining me from the inside out.
I know what love is supposed to feel like.
Warm.
Safe.
Happy.
Thisis nothing likethat.
Love isn’t being forced into a cage.
Love isn’t being watched every second of the day.
Love isn’t being turned into a possession.
Bile rises in my throat as I swallow it away.
They’ve said they want to love me. They’ve said they want to keep me.
Why don’t they understand that this isn’t love?
They’ve stolen my freedom. They’ve stolen my peace.
Yet somehow, they claim that they’re doing it out of some form of twisted affection.
I have no idea how they believe it. I sure as hell don’t.
The longer that I’ll stay here, the worse my mind will spiral. My emotions are already so tangled, I have no idea what I’m even feeling any more.
I should be angry, terrified, and I am.