The Shrink Program

Chapter 161

I bit my tongue. Just for good measure

Okay.

Now that the customary berating and feeling sorry for myself for is over, time to go do something to salvage the situation.

With a small sigh,

I sit up.

Knowing that action was my only distraction from despair.

... Besides, pretending to sleep was not going to get me out of this cage.

If one thing was certain, I wasn't going to stay here and be Jack's pet.

Pushing away the insecurities, doubts, and most importantly the Fear, I shove myself up onto my feet.

Wobbling only a little bit.

If failure could not defeat me, starvation, blood loss, and agonising pain stood no chance.

I breathed through the sudden wave of light-headedness, determined to stay on my feet even as my vision turned a little grey at the edges.

Unconsciousness can back the hell off, it's my time to shine.

Turning my attention to the room beyond the bars of my cage, I prepared myself for the worse.

.... And failed.

If it had been Jack standing there, playing the violin among the bodies of all my friends I would have been ready.

Even if he had been wearing a clown costume and playing the
greatest hits of generic boy band number one, I would have dealt with that madness like a girl trying to out scream a hurricane.

But there was no bloody horror scene. No wall of torture weapons.

It wasn't even Jack.

Standing in the centre of the room, eyes closed as he played the violin with the same posture and grace as Jack himself.

Stood a child.

My eyes widen, betraying my surprise.

A boy, his small frame swamped in a dusty hospital gown and feet left bare on the cold floor.

Messy red hair falling to bone-thin shoulders.

That a child was here... someone barely older than Monica... Could possibly be here...

It. Was. Wrong.

I swore, the rude word falling from my lips before my brain could even begin to catch up with what the hell was going on.

At the sound of my voice the boy's eyes shot open, focusing on me intensely... yet never wavering in his music.

Blue. And. Green.

My hand shot up to cover my mouth, both in mortification from what I had said in front of a kid and the horror that familiar gaze.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

This was Wrong.

I had to be Wrong.

The child spoke for the first time, his little voice grim.

"She'll know if I stop."

It hurt. The realisation. The crushing hit of guilt.

I flinched, gaze falling nervously to the violin in his hands.

It wasn't hard to figure out who he was talking about.

Still, my suspicions were confirmed when I looked back into the child's eyes.

"I have to keep practising, or she'll send him to find out why I stopped." As he spoke, the little boy glared grumpily.

When I stayed quiet under his gaze, the boy sent a sour look at the floor.

I swallowed hard, trying to get my heart to stop beating in my throat.

Just say it. Just say it. Just say it. Just say it.

".... Alex?"

The boy glanced up.

And that was all the confirmation I needed.

Isn't it obvious?

Before he could answer, or say anything at all really.

'Mother dearest intends to hit the reset button on her precious. Little.

Alexander.'

I burst out laughing.