Corrupted

My hell, my heaven.

Ugh
What's that on my face?
Light?
Ugh
Make it stop. I wanna sleep more. No. Go away. I don't wanna.
I shrugged and shifted my body to the other side, where the light could not hit my face. Thinking I was now in peace, I tried to regain my slumber. When I was about to enter into the world of dreams, I was brutally thrown into the floor.
"Wake up!" A voice commanded as I was violently kicked in the stomach. I did as I was told, always, but not without coughing blood. I gave a death stare to my attacker, who was also my owner, and wiped the residual blood of my lip. I sat on my knees, hands to the floor, waiting for my instructions.
ugh, I hate her.
She stood, holding the curtains open, with one hand to her hip. She seemed to be stuck in the 1500. Up from her neatly combed hair, to her dramatic make up, to her short ball dress and stockings, down to her knee high boots. She believed herself a princess, so she dressed herself as such.
"Well, good morning, down there," she giggled in her irritably faked high pitched voice. "Today is a very special day, or don't you remember?"
A very special day? Oh, that.
My mind was lost as she pulled my leash over her mansion.When did we reach the dungeons?
All her other slaves were already at work. Cleaning, cooking, washing dishes. These were the lower slaves. My room was the closest to hers, but everyday without fail she paraded me around the house, to show everyone her ownership on me. I was her pretty boy, her biggest possession, no one was allowed to talk badly to me, or hurt me in any way. In a way it was a blessing to be me, but also a curse.
Yes, no one could touch me, but her.
We slowly made our way to the first floor. This floor was where the...... Action happened, so to speak. Let's just say I didn't quite live in a normal household.
Moans and groans filled the atmosphere as we made our way through the floor. Little sections were separated by rice paper walls. The room was mostly dark, except for a dimly lit candle on every section. The walls were decorated with pastel rose paper, which was falling in several places, revealing wooden walls that needed a polish.I always hated this part of the house. I blanked my mind so I wouldn't remember any of it.
Finally we reached The last floor. This is where I lived. After climbing up the stairs, we made our way through a long corridor. Much like the floor before, it was dimly lit and badly maintained. There was barely any furniture, but the air felt heavy. Maybe because I hated everything in here, maybe because I loved it as well. Walking down the corridor made me remember the very fist time I stepped on this cracky wooden floor
I was.... I was... So....
"Move along boy, don't keep her waiting!" A voice commands me as he pulls on the leash attached to the collar around my neck. I don't want to move. I want to go back to my family. I want. I want.....I want to see my mother again. The thought of my mother makes me sob like a little child. A whip finds its way to my back, and rips through cloth and skin. I scream out as the pain crawls through my nerves. Thus I understand, its either follow or suffer.I slowly drag my feet down the corridor, keeping my face down out of fear for another lash. I'm still sobbing as we stop at the end of corridor. I look up. The round door looms over me, almost as it were to fall on me. I hold my breath as the door creaks open.....
I was so scared.

I shaked the memory out of my mind. Ugh, I was so naive and stupid, I disgusted myself. I put my hand to my pockets, looked away and let my raven black hair fall on my face. I couldn't be bothered. Nothing mattered anymore. She stopped and looked at me in an almost.... Maternal way? Once upon a time I would have believed so.... But pain makes people change. Pain makes hearts go black.
"Off to your room now, Alex. Make sure to take a bath, the servants shall come around bringing hot water and the clothes I've bought for you. Remember sweety, there's gonna be people over. Try to be the best you can."
I finally entered my room and slammed the door shut.
I wish you all died, I thought as I dropped to the bed. You'd think that since I was a slave, I'd be treated like crap. But my room and commodities were almost as good as hers. My bed and pillows were made of the softest feathers, my bed sheets made of silk, my blankets out of real animal fur. My room was almost in contrast to the rest of the house. Well maintained and aromatic, yet dimly lit as the rest of it. Everything in the room was shades of red and black. From the blood red cushioned walls, to the pitch black floor. If I had asked someone to describe it, they would say it gave off a Gothic atmosphere, which it really did, but that's how I liked it.
I covered my eyes with my arm as I tried to regain some sleep. It was going to be a hell of a night, after all