It's been days since I've seen anybody or anything beyond the living room. Father hasn't given me much water, only a cup a day in the morning. Half a slice of bread daily. I haven't moved, though his abuse has become more hostile.
It's not just physical, its disturbing. He touches me, and I wake up to me in his arms. I never thought the abuse would come to this. Everyday the ropes around my arms and legs grow tighter. Sometimes he switches them to a courser material, more painful substance. The ropes are no longer the thick hay I've grown accustomed to, it's a thin metal wire, slowly cutting into my skin. The blood drips as he tightens them every night.
"Hello honey." He drawls from the kitchen, "How's my precious wildflower?"
I grunt and try to roll, but as I've tried many times before, I don't budge. I never will budge.
I'm trapped.
The only people I force myself to think of are Hermione and Ginny. I plead with myself to not think of what my boyfriend must be doing. Ron thinks I'm safe in the arms of my loving father. Ginny and Hermione know the code. They know from the hint of destress in my eyes when I saw him on the doorstep that I'm not fine.
"Thinking, are we? Well I'm thinkin too..." he slurs out of his intoxicated mouth.
Father seemed so put together when I saw him, now he's just as I remember. His hair is in tangles upon his sweaty, red face. His eyes are bloodshot and he smells of beer, cigarettes, and wine. His clothes have various tiny holes and are wrinkled. He only wears ratty t-shirts and boxers, with a flat pair of slippers on his hairy feet.
"Princess, are you not even trying to escape anymore?" He asks with a roll of his head.
I shake my head furiously and struggle again, to let him know I'm never giving in.
I'm never giving up.
~~~~~~
Ron Pov
I'm never giving up.
We've searched for days and days on end, trying to find this address that the Minister told us.
"We will find her Ron, we always do." Hermione stated soothingly.
I am driving the new and improved flying car, Harry looking on some muggle device that Hermione gave him called a GPS. Her parents used them all the time to locate places everywhere, and it is our last resort.
I know she's not safe. I can tell by that uncertain gleam in her eyes when he left with him. I could just tell.
Suddenly, the device beeped loudly and a feminine monotone voice beeped out:
You have arrived at your destination.
I gulped and landed the car, turning it visible to the muggles once again. We arrived at a horrid looking place. The house was a two level house, the base showing it was made of gray cement. That must've been the basement. A pair of cracking steps lead up to a rusted front door. The white paint of the home was peeling and showed rotting wood beneath it. As we walked the crumbling stone pathway, the weeds and grass grew to about our knees and was cascading over into our path. We tried to avoid all the thorns and thistles but ended up getting snatched on a few.
I almost screamed out as a whole stem of thorns wrapped around my leg but Hermione grasped her hand over my mouth before I could.
We didn't bother knocking, we knew he'd turn us away.
"Hermione, what do we do?" I whispered concerned.
She waved us down and crouched, sneaking over behind the rotting building. It's a shame to think Sloane lived here, like this, for 17 years without my protection.
"Guys! The back door is wide open!" She whispered fiercely.
Harry gave Ginny and I an understanding nod and we crouched just as Hermione did. We slunk by the side of the house, until the worst possible thing happened.
My nose grew itchy, and it tingled with a sensation.
"Oh, bloody hell!" I whispered in distress.
The window above us was wide open, and I was afraid to think that her father might be there at any moment.
My nose tingled with anticipation, and I opened my mouth wide, ready for the sneeze. Suddenly, I let it out. Of course it wasn't a tiny sneeze, no, it was a big whopper. It echoed off the buildings in such a synchronized pattern that it truly amazed me.
"Who's there?!" An drunken, angry voice screamed from the window.
We scuttled along the ground until we reached the back porch, the screen door swinging. I heard the front one open feistily and the footsteps of a man running in the tangling weeds.
Wolfie, here I come.
~~~~~~~~
Your POV
I heard hurried voices from the back porch. Was it more of my father's goons here to do what he's done to me? He's invited them on the second day of my imprisonment, and they tortured me worse than he did. Before father left from hearing a giant sneeze bouncing off the walls of the neighborhood houses, from beneath our kitchen window, he added sharper wire to my hostage situation. It was now cutting deep gashes into my ankles and wrists. The tape growing thicker with every layer being added to my mouth. I'm surprised he takes it off for me to eat and drink.
I shuffle around in my chair, hearing the muffled footsteps grow closer to the living room. I haven't gotten abused today, no need for it yet. I was having SUCH a pleasant morning, I thought with an eyeroll.
I shuffled around more, trying to at least slightly loosen the razor-edged wire. I finally gave up, closing my eyes. I could hear the voices growing closer and I tried screaming through the tape, only to be muffled and heard as a low growl. Before I knew what was happening, a feminine voice screeched:
Stupefy!
And everything went darker than the backs of my eyelids.
A/N-
How's everyone doing? Good? Good. Sorry if my writing is terrible, I'm a little tired but if i gotta write then I gotta write. Of not, then I'll lose my ideas and I really don't want to write them down manually. 😂 Miss Lazy Bones at your service *dramatic butler-y bow*
If you have any funny comment please share, even predictions and just thoughts. Though, I will take helpful criticism, not comments written just to be a jerk. See you next chapter my little wizards, gotta blast!
