Beaten and Battered

Chapter 2

Five Years later

Lily's POV:

It's been five long and shitty years being in this place. The metal cuffs on my wrist have grown mouldy and rusty.

Whenever the dude comes in, he always has a mask on so if I manage to get- no when I get out of here I won't be able to explain who he is.

I'm trying to be optimistic, but I'm losing hope.

Over the years my pain tolerance has grown a lot as know when he whips, cuts or injects me I don't feel anything as everything is numb, but I've never let him have the satisfaction of knowing I'm in pain.

I haven't cried, screamed or begged once, and I can tell he's mad. Most of the time he comes in drunk with his so-called "friends" so I guess you know what that means.

The moonlight is shining brightly through the window. I know it's around midnight. Unlucky for me, the wall of torture devices is in front of me to see constantly.

He has things from knives, whips, blowtorches along with other things. I'm lucky if I get a sliver of bread or a full shot glass of water.

My ribs and bones are shown clearly through my ripped shirt, but I'm giving up yet I still feel like I can get out of here.

It feels impossible, but I am not giving up.

I keep thinking about what Christen is up to. Has she gone for her dream of playing professional soccer or has she got an average tedious job? If she didn't go down the soccer path, I would slap her. I also wonder if she has a girlfriend yet. We are both gay and proud. I also wonder what Mom and Dad are up to as before I was kidnapped, they worked in an office. They were my best friends, and even the few people that knew I am gay.

My sister and I were pretty much constantly attached to the hip apart from school since she graduated. 

I've been here that long I kind of miss school which is weird, but I guess it's because it was a part of my old life.

Even when I sleep, I can't get away as I'm continually having memories flash before me. The whole time I've been here I don't think I've slept longer than 2 hrs at a time since me passing out doesn't count as sleep, and I wouldn't know how long I've been out for.

The door slamming brings me out of my thoughts. I try my hardest to flinch, but almost every noise makes me flinch or tense.

He walks in front of me and grabs the brass knuckles. Let me tell you something his punches hurt so bad but with those on it hurts like hell.

He walks over to me, smirks then punches me in the eye, making my head swing the opposite way, but I stay silent.

I turn to glare at him, but he's one step ahead and punches my right rib, and after hearing multiple cracks I go to hunch over but am stopped by a baseball bat coming into contact with my head bringing the familiar darkness over me.