When I'm With You (REWRITING)

CHAPTER 40

By the time he was at the end of the disgusting mattress, I was backed into the gruesome wall of suffering. It's as if I could hear the screams of life through the thickness of these walls.

I slowly look up to face the one person in my life I bared the most pain from. The hint of light shone against his face and brightened his features in these hell-like places. It was only now I realised how much Landon looks like him.

He shot his own blood without knowing it.

I softly sob while my father plainly smirks at my weak condition. He bends down and places a plate with a sandwich on it and walks back to the metal door.

Before closing me to eternal darkness, he looks over his shoulder. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, young lady."

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"Shit shit shit shit," I whisper to myself as I try to take in the burning against my arm. I look away from the open wound against my arm, hoping that would give me the bare minimum of forgetting my father had slit my arm with a kitchen knife.

However, it's hard to forget that your arm has been slit open when there are patches of dried and fresh blood surrounding you.

I tried to pressure the blood oozing from my arm to stop but nothing was working, especially since the only thing I had to cover it with was a thick piece of fabric I had to rip off my jacket.

I have no idea how many days it's been since I was captured by my father, but in the time he's had me, he hasn't stopped torturing me. He cuts me, deep cuts if he remembers why he was mad at me.

If it's not deep then he'll bring boiling water and pour it on my open wound. If I scream, he pours vinegar against the wound, only making me wince louder. While the stinging wouldn't stop, I knew vinegar was good for healing the wound, so I wouldn't complain.

My stomach growls every minute or so because I haven't been fed, resulting in me passing out once in a while from starvation and dehydration. I can already imagine how pale I was from the lack of sunlight and loss of blood.

I sigh deeply as I watch the mice sit back in the corner of the room watching me suffer like a prisoner.

"Like what you see?" I speak to the tiny animal who was just trying to clean itself.

I hissed, accidentally moving my arm out of place. "Fuck, I'm going nuts already."

I'm going to die here... An extremely slow and painful death.

After all, it's what my father is aiming for. For me to suffer as he did in jail.

The familiar creaking of the metal door echoes around the four dead walls after a couple of hours of being quiet and I watch as the mice run behind me to hide from the monster that has arrived.

I watch as my father places a cup of water down on the rusty table not far from me "Drink up or it's another painful cut! Maybe this time I'll slit your thigh." He laughed deviously as I flinch at his harsh tone.

I hardly talk anymore. If he asks me to respond, I respond in the simplest way possible. Additionally, getting me hurt, of course.

As down to earth I was, I was in desperate need of water. I limp my way to the table and pick the glass up with as much strength I had. The water goes in one go and I feel my throat open for the first time in hours, making me cough a few times.

Peter digs his nails into my dirty hair causing me to drop the glass and hiss in pain. I graon, not having any energy in me to fight back and let myself depend on his grip.

"You're the weakest, most pathetic daughter I'll ever have. I'm embarrassed to call you my fucking daughter," He lets go of my hair, pushing me against the wall.

I knocked my head up against it and things began to move around me. I silently cry, feeling the drops of tears slide down my face as I watch the mice pity me from the corner of the mattress.

As the monster leaves, the heavy door shakes the unshakeable room and I'm left by myself again.

My eyes shut its self, giving me some peace and slowly drifting into sleep.

Hopefully, a sleep which will last forever.

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Kaz's P.O.V

I sigh as I watch the clock strike 12:00 am. Another day will pass and as much as I try, I won't be able to go past finding Dee.

A week. It's been a week and I don't have a trace of Peter nor Dee. As the days went by without her, I would just grow colder and aggressive towards everyone. Freddie and Jay haven't spoken to me in the past couple of days because, one, they're done with my constant attitude and two, they're also putting most of their effort into finding something on Peter or Dee.

I haven't gotten any sleep and I hardly eat anything, however, the five-time runs to the fridge and back for a beer always make my day better. The girls put in all their efforts to try and get me outside or to eat something but I just end up getting mad and kicking them out of my house.

My body rolls over to Dee's side, completely empty and uncalled for. I smother my face in her pillow, knowing that's the closest of her I'll get for now. My eyes wander to the framed picture of us she has on her side of the nightside and I feel my lips twitch upwards. My smile is wiped away once I realize Dee isn't next to me. She's not laying with me and her legs aren't tangled with mine nor are my arms safely around her.

I sit up on her side of the bed and rub my face with everything but sleep. I grab a pair of jeans that were sitting in my drawer and a shirt. Before leaving the room, my eyes land on a black leather jacket hanging against the rack. It's my favourite jacket because Dee gave it as a gift for Christmas but not only that, I actually loved it. It was comfy and fit me like snakeskin.

I grab Dee's favourite anklet and gently place it in my pocket. I can't stay focused if I don't have something of hers with me, or else I'm a complete mess.

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