Isolation

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Claire attempted to enter Daddy's room to retrieve what was left of her bracelet, along with the rest of her belongings, but was roughly grabbed by the wrist once again and tossed into the hallway closet.

"Stay in there and shut up," Michael snarled as he locked the closet door. "Though I guess you don't have a choice now."

He then casually began having a phone conversation with someone, not feeling any guilt for what he had done.

Claire screamed and pounded on the door, begging to be let out, but to no avail; Daddy had already left the room, and wouldn't have let her out anyways.

Claire listened attentively to Daddy's phone conversation, figuring that pounding on the door wouldn't get her anything except bruised hands and in even more trouble.

Wait, why was she the one in trouble? Daddy's the one who broke something! None of this made sense..

"Oh, you want to come over here now? Good. The little brat could use some discipline. Yeah, she doesn't listen to me. I broke one of her toys earlier and she started whining about it. Teenagers are such a hassle, am I right? I don't know why Diana still puts up with her. Well, see you in a few minutes. Don't forget to bring the taser, you might need it. She can get really riled up sometimes. Yeah. Bye."

As soon as she heard the words "discipline" and "taser," Claire knew that Michael was calling up Mrs. Alvarado, the vile woman that made her endure the brutal torture of applied behavior analysis therapy.

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