capítulo número treinta y dos ; el secreto

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© 2017 Luna Black

~*~

Alexia was kind and warm. She was gracious and held her posture with determination. Her willpower to survive and get through the mess we had been thrown in, quickly rubbed off on me.

She was understanding and rather caring. She held me the nights I cried, and stroke my hair gingerly when I sought comfort. She was a total stranger, who treated me better than my own family.

In a way, she reminded me of Mrs. Maggie; a really young version of her. Maybe it was just my mind trying to help me through the constant beatings and torment, but I'd use any coping method I'd come up with.

We didn't know how long we spent there. I knew she was there much longer than I had been, but we didn't know when it was day or night. The only form of lighting we had was the dim bulb in the corner that flickered on and off every once in a while.

If there had been any form of natural lighting, my hopes of escaping and taking Alexia with me would be bigger.

But it was just a silly fantasy that seemed to grow further away, the longer we spent in a cage.

Ulysses seemed to have it out for me, which I totally understood because I was a sassy piece of shït. In my attempts to fight off his sadistic nature, I became what he prized the most.

Every day, I would be dragged to his special room to endure another beating. The more he hit me, the more accustomed to the hits I became.

I could tell exactly when he'd grow tired of hitting me and just wanted to lay beside me. The man needed psychological help. If I had been any other woman, I would have succumbed to his crazy rants.

After he'd beat me to the pulp, he'd pull me to his side and clean me up. Kiss my silent tears and whispered that he'd never do it again. He'd promise that he would try and call me by another name.

At least it wasn't Veronica.

I was now Laura.

I pitied the woman. Whoever she was, he, in a very twisted way, loved her. He'd go off on rambles about regretting his choices in a place called Spades and then speak to the voices in his head.

His anger would return and my body would pay the price.

I knew that if he kept up his charades, I'd break the little resilience I had built up. Little by little, he was cracking at my sanity, ripping the little that I had managed to salvage from my mother.

I fought it, though, and Alexia helped. Her presence seemed to soothe my pain. Inexplicably, I should have been covered in bruises from my head to my toes, but when I'd wake up the next morning, they were turning a slight yellow as if healing.

It was strange, but there were a lot of things about Alexia that were strange. Not in a bad way, though. Just...something I wasn't used to.

However, I found comfort in her little quirks. It was the closest form of normalcy I'd ever get before Ulysses killed me.

He had just finished with me for the day, throwing me back in the cell himself and I let out a little whimper once I knew he was gone.

"Son of a bïtch needs some Jesus," I panted, crawling to Alexia's side.

She grimaced, quickly tending to my welts and sighed. "You should stop playing this game with him, Dani. It will cost you your life."

"At least I died knowing that he didn't get what he wanted from me."

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