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Every night, all I hear are Jamison's cries while he thinks I'm asleep. In front of me, he acts strong, like there's a way out. He's faking his hope to make me feel better, but once night rolls around, he's weak and depressed. We've been trapped for awhile now. I've been tallying off on the wall with a rock as the days pass. Thirteen tallies so far... Everything I've ever dreamed of -a happy life with the one I love, children of my own, going back to school- is all washed down the drain. My scars are now replaced with new cuts and bruises from Kyle abusing me. 

Light slips into the room when the door opens. Jamison walks in front of Kyle with cuffs. His shirt is ripped and shredded, reddish brown from dried blood and his head hangs low. He's in obvious pain, and I feel like it's all my fault. Jamison trips over his feet and falls to his knees, sobbing. Maybe it was on purpose. 

"Get up!" Kyle shouts, circling him like a trainer would. "Get, up!" he yells once again and kicks him in the ribs. I flinch and try to move my eyes somewhere else, but the scene's like a car crash. It's catastrophic but you can't demand your eyes to look the other way. Jamison cries out and Kyle leans down in his face. "Don't make me kill you right here in front of your worthless girlfriend." he spits the words out. The words sting, but I don't care. I need to show Jamison I'm strong, that I can help protect him. Jamison's breaths are heavy and shaky as he struggles to his feet. He winces as Kyle yanks his body up. 

Mine and Kyle's eyes meet. His eyes are like ice, making me feel chilled to the bone. He gives me a hard, cold, sick, twisted smile. "You're next." he says throwing Jamison to the ground in front of me and walking out the door. A shudder runs through my scared to death paralyzed body. I crawl to Jamison because I'm too weak to stand. 

"Jamison." I say, my voice is hoarse so it comes out more like a whisper. "Jamison." I say again, tears running down my cheeks. "What did that monster do to you?" I say, finally getting to him. I sit next to his limp body and stroke his hair, twirling my fingers in it. "What did he do?" I'm sobbing now. I weakly lay my head on his shoulder, keeping my hand on the side of his head. He puts his hand on my thigh. "It'll be okay." 

And Kyle walks in.

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