DOUBLE TAKE (Part 8)

Break Away

The days poured into week's but time was now irrelevant as my pain now was. Even though I'm locked in the confines of this cement tomb I have conformed myself into somewhat of a depressing schedule. I'm no longer hung from the iron rods that sprout from the ceiling. Sometimes they are gracious enough to strap me to a chair but mostly I'm left like a ragdoll on the floor to recover from the beatings.

Grime covers my body so thickly that the weekly hose downs can't even wash it away. My tattered dress still clings to my body but is now threadbare and holey but yes I have a schedule or let's just say I've learned their routine. I now know that when one comes in to strap me to a chair that soon someone else will follow to ask the same questions over and I give them the same answers. I know nothing.

Once they have had their fill of questioning then comes the beating and the use of every tatic possible to break me down, get inside my head but fear is irrelevant now as well. True, the first several day's I was petrified but as time passes I became like a lizard. My outer skin changed to fit the habitat I was now in. You can only be scared  for so long before you just don't give a fuck anymore. I guess you could say that I'm there. Nothing they say or do phases me. In fact I taunt them now.

I'm given a meager meal maybe every few day's which consists of just enough to keep me alive. Then there's Heir, he pops in often and I can always determine his mood by his first actions. If he just stands there for a moment looking at me I know he is going to ask me why I did this to him, to his family. He'll go on a rant about how much he loved me and such but these day's I stay mute. There's no need to argue my innocence anymore. My truth isn't their truth. They believe what they want to believe. My silence only infuriates him further and usually he storms out having not touched me.

Other time's he rushes in and gets right to work. As he's delivering a blow to my cheek he puts the blame off on me. "This is your fault. You brought this on yourself. Had you been honest and not set me up this wouldn't be happening" .

As he spews his word's I just stare at him unphased but the last time I spoke and he hasn't been back since. "I know you're fighting with yourself inside. I know that in your heart you know the truth. Do you not think that by now I would've spilled my guts after all you have put me through? But I don't care anymore. Do what you please to me. It no longer hurts but know this..... Pray I don't make it out of here alive because if I do I will devour you in the most extraordinary way. I will rip the spirit from your bones. Heart. Body. And soul. Heart, body and soul babe". I said then broke off into pails of laughter.

The look that registered off his face was indescribable. I almost wanted to say a flicker of fear flashed in his eye's. Slowly he backed away and moved out the door followed by my high pitch laughter. I haven't seen him since but that bitch Mizery makes sure to keep me company. I can count on a daily visit from her. Seems she likes knife play and seems like I no longer care. In her last visit she slid the blade over my arm then settled the point on my collarbone just above my heart. She gave me that insane smirk of hers but this time was different. This time I returned the smirk and pressed against the point. A trickle of blood ran down my chest as I continued to smile. "You're right, blood does smell wonderful. I bet it smells even better when it's coming from the other person. I can't wait to find out".

Sneering, she tore the knife away and was preparing to send it into my heart. Just as she went to penetrate the door opened and there was Sire, my knight in shining armor. "Mizery". He roared.

Mizery backed off with a grunt then fled. Out of them all Sire was the easiest to deal with. He was the one who fed me and hosed me down. Duiring each short visit I did my best to play on his emotions and this time was no different. "Thank you". I sobbed.

As usual he remained silent and begin to clean the small tear the knife had left behind. I placed my hand on top of his. "You're so kind to me. You're not like them. Thank you for being nice".

Instantly he pulled his hand away and walked to the sink area for bandages without a word. "Please, help me Sire". I said brokenly.

Quickly he placed the guaze over my new wound and headed for the door. "Please don't go. I need you. Please help me".

His shoulders seemed to slump as he turned to face me. "Don't ask me that again" . He said softly and left.

Hour's later I was jolted awake by many footsteps rushing in. Sitting up in my corner of the room I saw Demarco and Cole dragging a limp man in. Roughly they slapped him in my chair. "Hey, that's my chair assholes. Only I get beat in it".

My voice was drowned out as all the other's hustled in and stood around the whimpering man. "Hey, word of advice dude, the more you cry the more they like it". I called out.

Demarco pointed his finger at me. "You shut your shit up".

I pointed back at him. "I'm going to do just that. Don't mind me, I'll just be over here filing my nails on the cement wall".

I watched As they flooded this man with questions. A lot of the same questions they tossed at me. From what I had gathered since my royal stay here is someone murdered their parents and their prime mission is to find them. The man blubbered away a few name's and I watched As they extracted their revenge. Each took a turn until the man was nearly limbless. I watched the way Heir took his time and I calculated his work and filed to my memory, you know in case I needed it for something much bigger. I watched As the incinerator was fired up and yelled out. "Did anybody bring the marshmallows?"

The only response I was given was a series of strange looks. Staring on, I watched As they lifted the semi dead man up and carried him to the flames. Even on his deathbed the man managed to scream in protest. His body was pitched over into the belly of the fire and instantly ignited. As the Harper's went about the business of cleaning up I released a fit of cackles. Receiving more odd looks I overheard Demarco say to Heir. "It's clear she's lost it. Too far gone. You need to take care of the problem" .

Heir only looked at me then followed behind the other's as they left. Later on that day I woke again and sat up. It was time to test my limits and try to summon strength. With the help of the wall I managed to stand. Soon I was taking steps even though my body hated me for it. Walking to the incinerator, I looked in at the ashen remains of many. A sudden violent urge overtook me and I scooped up a handful of ashes. No telling how many gone souls I held in my hand. In a bold move I slapped my ashy hand against the wall and begin to write my name out in huge smudged letters. Taking a moment to gaze at my art display I read the bold letters out. "Tia".

More rage consumed me and I said between gritted teeth. "What's to come will be for all the one's the Harper's hurt".

With my energy now drained up, I fell to the floor and back into a sound sleep. The door openning again brought me to. Squinting through my tired eye's I saw two figures standing before me. They were dressed in black and their faces were hid behind ski masks. "Who are you?" I mumbled .

I was given no reply. Instead one of them picked me up over their shoulder and carried me out. I was led down a dark hall and into a bedroom. Once there another door opened that led down a tunneled hallway then into a parking garage. I was hoisted into a waiting SUV that swiftly took off. Food was shoved at me and they finally spoke but in a foreign language, possibly Italian. I didn't recognize the voices but one was male and the other female and they seemed to be arguing over how much food I should intake right now. However I didn't care who these people were, I was just greatful to be out of that cement dungeon. Having my fill of food, I drifted off into the first peaceful slumber I've had in a while. When I woke I was no longer in the car with my masks rescuers. Instead I was heaped on a set of marble steps with a blanket tossed over me. I sat up to try and determine where I was. That's when I saw the sign and read it out loud. "Craville, Home for the Mentally Ill".

I went to stand and that's when the door opened and several nurses gripped my arm's and drug me in against my feeble attempt to fight back. Instantly a needle filled my arm and I became limp, lifeless and my eye's closed.

Did you call me crazy?

No I'm not crazy but I was crazy once.
They put me in a rubber room and in that rubber room I died.
They buried me where the flowers grow and the flowers came down and tickled my nose.
Now that drive me crazy.