Sometime in the evening, Damien reappears and sits down on the sofa and watches the TV. The sound is too low for me to understand anything but I soon drift off listening to the muffled voices.
I wake up a few hours later, and when I can't sleep anymore, I stay awake, forced to listen to Damien’s loud snoring.
When the sun eventually rises and Damien steps out of his room, my blood runs cold and my heart races, I wish I could be anywhere else.
With a sad frown on his face and a whip in his hand, he opens my door. I glare at him as he grabs my arm and pulls me out of the safe zone that is the cage.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, my eyes stay locked on the whip.
“You have to be punished for your disobedience.” he says. This is because I didn’t eat dinner with him? Or is it because I had called the police on him the other day and ruined his plans for my kidnapping?
“What?” I shriek, “No, let go of me.” I try to pull my arm out of his grasp but he just holds on tighter.
“Stop it.” he says, “This is your fault.” in the back of my mind I'm aware of him saying this when he took me. It is because I called the police, last night just pushed him over the edge. Does he feel guilty for shooting my mum? For killing Gary?
I'm bent over the table and rope is tied around the legs on both sides and then attached to my ankles and my wrists so I can’t move. I pull at them but they don’t give.
“Don’t do this, please Damien.” I cry, tears are running down my face, “Please, I'm sorry.”
“I wish I could believe you.” he says as he rips my top off my back.
A few minutes later, he lifts his hand back over his head... then brings the whip down across my bare back with such force. I scream with so much power I'm sure I would go deaf. The pain that radiates through my body is unbearable. My cries come out silently as he slashes the whip against my skin a second time,
And a third.
And a forth.
And a fifth.
My body is numb, my back feels like it’s on fire and my tears stain my cheeks. I lay there for a while longer as he puts away the whip. He then goes into the bathroom and comes back with soapy water and a cloth. He stands behind me and slowly, he cleans the blood I know covers my back, I wince as he trails the cloth over the open wounds. My body still trembles.
When he has finished cleaning my back, I feel his hands gently caressing my hips. I have no energy to fight him right now. “Don’t touch me.” I say weakly. His hands continue to roam. Along my sides, around to my stomach, which is still bare, the only thing covering me is my bra.
I hear him take a deep breath as his hands go lower, under my skirt. My body reacts as I feel his finger slide over my cotton covered lips. “No.” I say, trying to move, but my body is too weak.
Damien rests his head on my lower back as his hand slowly pushes aside my underwear. A finger slips in between my folds and caresses my sensitive nub. With his finger working on my sweet spot, his other hand reaches up to caress my breast. My legs twitch and my back painfully arches with each new sensation. Tears stream down my face, my body still too weak to do anything.
After a good few minutes, his finger is moving with such speed. He moans softly as he continues to explore my body. In return, my body spasms and quakes as the pressure between my legs builds to the point where I'm close to exploding.
When it’s over, he grunts and removes his hands from under my skirt and my eyes bulge as he sticks his fingers in his mouth.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he says. He grabs a clean towel and cleans me up. Then he unties me and carries me back to my cage. I stay laying on my stomach, not moving, for the rest of the day.
CHAPTER 27
For the next few days, I spend most of my time locked in my cage, sometimes I am let out to do chores. Everyday Damien makes me clean the floors and dust every surface.
What type of woman lets her home get dusty. He would say to me.
This isn’t my home. I tell him every time.
Right now, I'm on my hands and knees as I push a wet sponge back and forth on the wood floor. My back stings from my still raw wounds at every slight movement. Damien puts cream on them everyday so nothing gets infected. I know it’s just because he doesn’t want to have to take me to a hospital though.
When dinner time rolls around, I refuse to eat with him. Everyday I get pulled from my cage and a plate of food is placed in front of me. Everyday I push that plate of food off the table and onto the floor. I haven’t eaten in five days and my stomach hates me for it.
Right now, Damien glares at me from the table as he eats his food while I sit in my cage and glare back at him.
“You’re going to starve.” he says.
“Good.” I reply, death would be better than being here with him.
Later that day, Damien tells me he is going out to get food since the cupboards need restocking. I frown at this, He’s leaving me here? Alone? What an idiot. Inside my head, I'm laughing, while my face shows no emotion.
“Don’t try anything stupid.” he says. He makes sure the door to my cage is properly secure and then he walks out the door. I hear the lock click into place and then the car door slam and the engine roar.
Immediately I try to get out. Of course, I know I can’t but a girl can try. I ram my body into the door again and again. Pain radiates across my shoulder and back and I'm just about to give up when I hear a loud clinking noise. I’m close, I know it. I just need something to jiggle the lock from the inside. I quickly look around the floor for anything I could use. I don’t have to search for long.
There, just poking out from under the rug is a sewing needle. Damien must have dropped one when he was repairing some ripped fabric yesterday, he refuses to buy anything new so he repairs any damages himself. I get on my stomach and reach my hand through the bars, I can’t quite reach it so I push my shoulder against the bars as far as possible, my shoulder burns as my muscles strain against the metal. After a few minutes my fingertips brush against the needle and I carefully guide it closer.
When it’s close enough, I pick it up and quickly push it into the lock of my cage, it’s a lot harder to pick a lock than it shows on TV but another ten minutes later and I finally get it open. With a huge smile on my face, I quickly do the same with the chain around my ankle. I laugh hysterically to myself as it falls to the floor. With no idea when Damien will return, I don’t stick around. I quickly go to the kitchen and grab the largest knife I can find, I also get another larger needle from the drawer and then I make my way to the front door.
Again, using the needles, I eventually get the door open. My victory is short lived however because just a few steps away on the other side of the door, is Damien. When he sees me standing there, he drops the bags he is holding and rushes towards me. I quickly slam the door shut and run throughout the cabin. I try the backdoor but find it sealed shut. I remember the knife that is tucked in the back of my skirt and pull it out, I turn and wait.
A few minutes later and Damien walks into the room, I can see the rage on his face. I hold the knife in his direction. “Stay away from me.” I tell him. He steps forward slowly.
“Put the knife down, Tayla.” he says.
I slowly step around him, heading towards the door but he anticipates my moves and steps in front of my only escape. The next thing I know, his hand is on my wrist, the one holding the knife and after grabbing the knife and tossing it out of reach he pulls his fist back and punches me in the face. Pain radiates across my face and I black out instantly.
✽✽✽
When my eyes open some time later, I look around to find myself in an unknown room. With an old boiler in one corner and some steps leading up to a door, I realise I’m in a basement.
I slowly get to my feet, and hear a loud rattling noise behind me. Looking back, I see a set of chains attached to the wall, I follow their length and see one chain is attached to my ankle and the other dangling against the wall, waiting
to be used.
Great, I sigh. I grab the links and start to pull as hard as I can. Nope. Not going to budge.
I take a minute to look around the basement, it’s completely dark except for the single lightbulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling giving off a low glow. High up on the wall is a small window covered in two sets of bars, it must be dark out because no sunlight comes through. There’s nothing else in the room except for a bucket. I close my eyes and breath. I'll say it again; my life is literally on repeat.
The sound of a key turning brings my attention back to the door at the top of the stairs. A second later, Damien steps over the threshold and makes his way down the stairs.
“I hope you have learnt your lesson.” he says.
“Let me go.” I say apathetically. I shouldn’t be used to being around him but I am. The fight is slowly leaving me.
“The lesson is... you can never escape me. I will always catch you.” he puts a small paper plate on the floor in front of me, two pieces of buttered bread sit on it. I sit down on the dirt covered floor and quickly tear the bread apart and swallow the pieces.
“I got you a gift.” Damien says as he holds a small bag out towards me. I look at it for a minute before snatching it out of his hands and removing its contents. A knee length white dress. I contemplate throwing it back at him. I don't want anything off him, then I remember the tiny black skirt and shredded top I’m wearing. Anything is better than that. I put the dress in my lap and wait for him to leave.
“You’re supposed to say thank you when someone gives you a gift.” he says and kicks my leg with his foot. I wince slightly and glare at him then mumble a quiet and sarcastic thanks. Once he realises that’s all he’s getting, he huffs and stalks back up the stairs. I wait five minutes before getting to my feet and removing my current clothes. After slipping the dress over my head, I look down at myself, grateful to be decently covered, then I sit back down. I have no idea what time it is, or what day it is. I have been here for five days. I tell myself that if I could survive getting kidnapped the first time than I can definitely do it again. I realise however that this time, nobody but my mum saw me be taken and she doesn’t know what direction we went in. I could be waiting here awhile. I just need to bide my time.
With nothing else to do to entertain myself, I sleep. I make a pillow out of my other clothes and lay my head down. My last thought before sleep overtakes me is of my parents.
I don’t know how long I slept but I feel somewhat revitalised when I wake up. I stretch my stiff muscles, ignoring the pain in my back and get to my feet. A look up at the window tells me it’s morning.
I stand in the middle of the room, as far as my chain allows me to anyway, and think of my next move. I look down at my ankle and sigh, there’s nothing I can do while I’m down here.
The door opens then and Damien appears, “Good morning, Tayla.” he says. I ignore him. “I brought you some breakfast.” another paper plate with two pieces of buttered bread. He holds it out to me and I take it. When I have eaten every last crumb, I give the plate back to him and turn my back waiting for him to leave.
My body freezes when I feel his hands on my arms. I resist the urge to hit him, that wouldn’t end well for me.
“You look beautiful in that dress.” he whispers in my ear. I close my eyes and try not to vomit as his hands caress my hips. Suddenly his hands disappear, I turn and see him walking up the stairs, when the door closes and I hear the lock, I let out the breath I was holding and shiver in digust.
I spend the rest of the day alone. With nothing to do, I simply walk around the large area hoping to tire myself out so I can sleep again, at least that will make the time pass quickly.
CHAPTER 28
A few weeks pass and I hate to admit it but I’ve settled into somewhat of a routine. Every morning, Damien comes down and gives me breakfast, buttered bread and water, then for the rest of the day, I either walk around the room or sleep, then at dinner time, Damien brings down another plate of buttered bread and water. A few hours later and I sleep again. Then I repeat it all again the next day.
I keep track of time through Damien, at 8 am he brings me breakfast because that’s when he has breakfast and he brings me dinner at 6 pm because that’s when he has dinner. Through that I count the days that I have been here, almost a month already.
“Are you ready to behave now?” Damien’s voice startles me, I didn’t hear the door open. I look up at him, wondering what he’s up to, I simply nod my head at him.
He comes down the stairs then and over to me, I see a gun in a holder at his hip. I focus on what he’s doing, removing the chain from around my ankle. When my leg is free, I take a few steps only to cry out in pain. The cuff was weighing down on my ankle, so tight that I have a large, ugly mark where it once rested, I lift my leg slightly and move my foot in circles to test my movement only to cry out again. My ankle is damaged, I can barely walk, I sigh, that’s going to delay any escape plans.
“Come on then.” Damien says and walks up the stairs, a few seconds pass before I follow him, slowly and painfully.
Five minutes later and I’m up the stairs and in the kitchen. I wait as Damien pushes a shelving unit in front of the door we just came through, hiding it from view. He then turns to me and grabs my arm, pulling me into the small living room.
In the corner, looking brand new, is my cage. I sigh as I'm pushed into it and another cuff is fastened around my other ankle. Then the door closes and the lock is set, this one has a fingerprint scanner, only Damien’s hand will open it.
I close my eyes and groan, I guess I’m just glad I’m out of that basement, at least up here I am warm and have the TV in the corner to listen to, even if I can’t actually watch it.
A few more days pass and I don’t leave my cage. Food is passed to me through the small gap in the cage door and I even have my bucket in here with me.
Life couldn’t possibly get any worse.
After dinner, I hear Damien flicking through the channels on the TV. He stops on the news and lets it play. It’s a news report about me.
‘Tayla Robinson, 16 years old, was last seen a month ago in her home when a mad man with a gun broke into the Robinson residence and kidnapped her after shooting her mother in the leg. It is believed that the man had been stalking Tayla for some time prior to the kidnapping. Her parents have been working non-stop with local police to find her quickly and numerous manhunts have been underway.
If anyone has any information about Tayla’s whereabouts, please contact the number on your screen now.’
Tears stream down my face as I listen to the report. My parents are still looking, they won’t give up. I rest my head on my knees and cry.
“They won’t find you.” Damien’s voice calls across the room, “I’ll make sure of it. I told you, you’re mine now.” hatred boils up inside me and I lose control. I scream as loud as my lungs allow me, letting all of my frustration out, my hands bang against the bars of my cage, I wish I was hitting him.
A few minutes later and I stop, breathing hard, I lean against the bars and close my eyes. I picture my family. Mum and Dad sitting down at the table having dinner, not a word is spoken. Next, I see, Cleo, sitting at home in her room, worried and depressed. Then there’s Toby, trying to stay strong for everyone else but in private, he breaks.
✽✽✽
The next day, I start cleaning again. I’m on my hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water. Last night I formed a plan to escape. It’s not much of a plan, I just need to get to a phone, then I can call my parents and get rescued. Damien always has his mobile with him but there is a landline on the table by the TV. I have heard it ring a few times since I’ve been here.
At dinner, I’m allowed to sit at the table with him. I hate obeying him but I’m starving and I need food otherwise I won’t have the energy to do anything. Tonight is lasagne and I have emptied my plate within minutes.
Afterwards, I'm back in my cage listening to the T
V, some comedy program is on. I try and sleep, to make the day end quicker but I can’t.
Damien comes over sometime later and opens my door. “Why don't you come and sit with me.” he says. I look at him likes he’s crazy. Why would I do that? I don't want to be anywhere near him. He doesn’t wait before removing the chain around my ankle, pulling me to my feet and dragging me to the sofa. I am forced to hobble along behind him, ignoring the pain that shoots through my ankle. He pushes me down so I'm sitting next to him. Then he sits down, his leg inches from mine. I try not to cringe as his leg brushes mine as he swings his side to side. I sit stiff like a board and watch the TV from the corner of my eye. It is a comedy show, John Bishop, I think the comedians name is. I have seen him on TV a few times but never watched his show.
Instead of watching the TV, I look around for the landline, ready to act on my plan. When Damien leaves the room next, I will grab the phone and quickly dial 999. My eyes go to the spot where I saw it last, on a table that sits under the window. It’s not there now. Without moving a muscle, I look everywhere within eyesight, it’s not here. Has he moved it? I haven’t heard it ring lately. With that thought, any hope of calling for help leaves my body. So much for that plan.
This was my last chance to escape. Ever since my last attempt, Damien doesn’t leave me alone for very long, and if he has to go out, he locks me in the basement with the door covered, making it impossible to get out.
With nothing else to do, I focus on the TV, John Bishop is still on. A few minutes later and I laugh at one of his jokes. It wasn’t that funny really, I guess I’m just uncomfortable. I immediately put a hand over my mouth to stop myself laughing and look over at Damien who is looking back at me with a bemused look on his face. “You're allowed to laugh, Tayla. I like your laugh, it's musical.” he says. I avert my eyes and look down at my lap. He will not do this. He will not act like everything is normal.
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