Chapter Four

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Riley's mind was a mixture of floating black gas and goo. Somehow she couldn't stand being safe and in one piece, as if being beat was one of the only places she'd ever be. Every night she'd dream of making some sort of friend or someone to actually talk to and listen to, but whenever she had that sort of chance, Alison would take the person away and leave Riley alone like she was for the first year there.

Riley hardly ate, even when she had the chance to. Something about being offered with microwaved dinners just didn't seem right. Whenever she did end up eating, she would just push it all out and make a mess, which made Alison furious at times, but that's just one reason why Riley stopped eating.

Her eyes glued onto Eli for a few seconds before she looked back down to her hands, and all she wanted was for him to go. No one should be able to get tied up in here and beat like she was. Though she wanted to have friends, she couldn't stand hearing them cry everytime they were hit.

One thing she was tired of was to keep secrets. Secrets about herself, her name, tiny little hints about what she was passionate about doing. She wanted so badly to tell someone, but she knew that if she opened her mouth about it to him, it could ruin everything. He already had bruises all over and some scratches and scars, but Riley was scared to do anything that would make it worse.

"Are you okay?" she carefully mumbled loud enough for him to hear. She wanted to make sure that she didn't choose the wrong words, since whenever she did, she'd get beat. Instead of looking up to him, she kept her head hung low as if she was scared that she'd be killed to look at him even for a moment. Alison was a monster, and if Riley did anything to upset that monster, she'd be put in a little cage all alone for punishment. Riley just had to play it safe, even if she wanted to be happy.

Eli inwardly cringed at the words. No he was not okay. The high-heeled captor had visited them again this morning, waking him up from his light slumber with a slap. And then another. He had barely had time to protest before he was being beaten by the intimidating presence. She growled menacing words in his ear as she pulled Eli's arms behind him in a painful hold and dragging him up by his close cropped hair, making him gasp in pain. He didn't dare utter a word as she struck him; the cries threatening to fall from his lips had him in enough shame already. The girl across the room didn't say anything either, though he didn't blame her, she would've just turned around and beaten her. God only knows how long she'd been down here, suffering the abuse by herself. He imagined she must be relieved it was someone else High-heels was taking her anger out on.

Eli had let out a surprised cry when he was roughly thrown back against the wall, his head hitting the metal with a clang and he saw stars. He didn't even register the pain or the noise of his chains as he trembled, waiting for the blows to come down on him again. He could do nothing more than breath out a sigh of relief when he heard the door slam, once again descending the room in a suffocating blanket of silence. That was of course until the girl across the room acknowledged her presence. Eli sighed. He knew she was only trying to be comforting, though how that question helped any he had no idea. Reluctantly he unclenched his teeth.

"I'm fine," but he was unable to keep the edge from his voice. He was angry, but not at her. He was angry at himself at how much High-heels frightened him. Their captor, who he had dubbed High-heels in his mind, had a chilling presence. His skin crawled everytime he heard her voice or felt her touch on his arms, her sharp nails cutting along his arms and neck. The fact that he couldn't see her or predict her moves gave Eli an uneasy feeling deep in his gut.

He knew his fellow captive wanted to say something but he was really not in the mood to talk. He tried to ignore the other presence in the room and fall back asleep, despite the situation. He turned on his side and pulled himself more into the corner, ignoring the pain in his sides and the gnawing hunger in his belly. He still hadn't been fed. Damn, he was hungry.

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