Run Free (sequel to A Lesson Never Learned)

e i g h t

dedicated to @Xparalyzed_memoriesX you helped me get my shit together with your great advice!

Matt drugged me again right after the first one wore off. This time, it came in a syringe. He put an XL t-shirt on me to compensate for stripping off the shorts Dan had given me and carried me into a room, setting me on my back. He looked like he was going to say something, maybe to apologize, but he only frowned. 

"I would try to sleep if I were you. You won't be getting a lot of it after tonight."

I just watched as he turned around to leave. He paused at the door and he looked back at me. 

"Fuck." he muttered. He quickly walked to me again and he tied the blindfold over my eyes. I whimpered and he propped me up on the bed against the pillows. "I know you throw up when you're waking up from off of drugs, so I don't want to be responsible for you choking on your own vomit." he touched my face and I felt tears soak into the blindfold. "Sykes will be here in an hour or so. So I'd take that time to sleep." 

I then listened as he shut the door. This drug was stronger than the last one. I couldn't even think properly. However, everything I felt; the throbbing pain in my bite wounds from the dogs, Kuma and Zulu, felt as if it was far away and distant. I felt like sobbing. Dan and Max were going to take me home, and now my father had no idea where I was. All I could do was just sit there and wait for Oliver to come in and torture me. I couldn't see him, but it didn't make a difference, I couldn't get away from him anyway. I had no doubt Oliver was going to hurt me. In fact, I'd be surprised if he didn't hurt me. I'm waiting for the day that he actually kills me. Death seems like a really nice option right now. I want to hang myself to get it over with. Maybe this drug was for the psychological torture, but my theory is Oliver knows how much I've given up and doesn't want me to kill myself, since it would be an easy way out of this nightmare I'm in. 

—

"Nora! Get down from there! You're going to get yourself killed!" my mother shouted, leaning out the window. I sat cross-legged on the roof, just out of reach from her. 

"I just wanted to see when Daddy's home." I told her, looking behind me. 

"Nora, he's coming home in a few minutes, I told you that!" my mother said, rubbing her temples. "Just get off the roof, Nora! You're going to fall!" 

I sighed and stood up, wobbling to my mother. I guess she had a point. Even though I was seven years old, my hand-eye coordination was still horrible. She grasped my arm and yanked me inside, the chilly Autumn air making the inside of the house seem that much warmer. 

"Nora Liddell, you are so goddamn lucky your father is a carefree son-of-a-bitch. My father would have hit me if I ever did something as crazy as that." my mother snapped, hugging me tightly. "Don't ever do that to me again, Nora, you scared the shi-crap out of me!"

"I'm sorry, mom." I sighed, hugging her back. "I just don't like how dad's always away..."

"I don't like it either." she admitted. "Come on. Let's go downstairs. Your uncle Vic is cooking up some food for dinner." 

"I hope it's tacos!" I exclaimed as we walked down the stairs and into the living room. "He makes the best tacos." 

My mother laughed, shaking her head. "I wish you knew how that sounds to me." 

"What?" I asked blankly, not understanding what was so funny. 

"No, nothing." My mother smiled widely. "It's just...he's hispanic."