Left To The Wolves [On Hold]

Chapter 11

"Wake up!"

I jolt in my sleep, causing me to wake. Bob is standing over me, but this time he has no bucket of water.

"You have five minutes, not a second more." He points to the bathroom, and I wince as all the pain washes over me. I drag my feet as fast as possible to the bathroom and quickly do my business. When I step out, Bob hands me some clothes, so I put them on and then follow him out of the room and down the Hall.

He opens the door to the torture chamber, and I can't hide the whimper that comes out of me. Bob just smirks and pushes me inside, locking the door once he's in as well. He grabs the whip, which I'm starting to think is his favorite weapon, and points to the ground in front of him.

I quickly walk over, knowing if I'm too slow, I'll just get punished more. I get on my knees, with my back to him, and he immediately starts his torture.

After each strike at my back, he says over and over again, "I don't feel pain... I don't feel pain... I don't feel pain." Pretty soon that's all that's in my head, but no matter how much I say it to myself, I keep feeling the pain more and more.

The whipping stops, and I open my eyes. I hear Bob's footsteps, and then he's squatting in front of me. He looks at me for a long few seconds, and then I feel a stinging pain in my left cheek. My head smacks to the side, and I keep it there, not wanting to look at or know what he'll do to me next.

"Stand up," He instructs, and I do so after two failed attempts.

"Hit me."

"Huh?"

"Hit me," He says again, his face slack, showing no emotion, and his voice monotone. I furrow my eyebrows, thinking this is some kind of a trick or joke, but he stands completely still, arms limp at his sides. I take a deep breath and think of all the torture he's put me through, and that ignites the fire in me.

I ball both of my hands into fists as the images of myself on the floor, being beat are vivid in my head, and as my anger flares, I raise my right arms, swing it back, and then drive it into his face. My fist hits his cheek, and he actually falls to the floor, from the force of the hit, or just unpreparedness, I don't know.

"Holy shit," He groans as he cradles his left cheek and stands up. I feel proud of myself for being able to cause him this pain, even if it probably wasn't even that much.

"Damn, you have a strong right hook." He winces as he rubs his cheek and jaw, making me smile smugly.

"Right. Let's go." He walks toward the door, unlocks it, opens it, and we both walk out and down the hallway. We go a different way I haven't gone before, and end up in a long hallway with no doors, except for one at the very end. We walk there, and Bob knocks on the door. I hear a feminine voice say, "come in," and my heart stops.

He opens the door, pushes me inside, and I hear a clicking sound after he shuts it, telling me he locked it.

My head is down, and I'm looking at my bare feet. I close my eyes as I hear her feet coming closer to me.

"Clara."

I suck in a deep, loud breath through my teeth as I hear her say my name. I haven't seen her in three years, and I have no idea why she's here now, or what I'm doing here.

"Clara," She says again, so I slowly lift my head and make eye contact with her.

"What?" I ask, the venom in my voice surprising her, and even myself. Her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath, just like I did.

She clear her throat and raises her head slightly, squaring her shoulders as she does so.

"I need to talk to you," She states, and she motions for me to sit down. I walk over slowly, averting my eyes to the sofa across from her. I sit down, still avoiding looking at her, and I look down at my hands that are folded in my lap.

"Uhm..." She clears her throat again, and I look up once more. I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, trying to seem cool, controlled and unfazed, but inside, my heart is beating miles a minute, I'm trying not to break out in a sweat, and keep my hands from shaking.

"I... Uhm... Okay, I guess I'll start by saying why you're here."

"Or maybe how about why you left and never came back three years ago? Why you let him do that?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can even think to stop them, but I don't regret asking. I need to know.

"Okay... Well, first off, I had no idea that he even did what he did, let alone why. It wasn't until we were far away that I asked where you were, and he said he didn't know. He wouldn't turn back, and your brother and I kept pestering him about it, when he finally said that he left you behind so we could get away."

"Where is he now?" I ask, fisting my hands on top of my thighs. She notices this, but says nothing of it.

"I don't know. He left, packed up and disappeared when we got home. Your brother is at home still, he doesn't know you're here or what I've been doing."

"And what have you been doing," I ask, but it comes out as more of a statement than a question.

"I've been trying to find your father since he left."