“I will not have you taint this family.”
Pfft, taint.
“You can hide behind that mask of purity all you want.” I lifted my chin and rolled my eyes up to my father’s cold stare. “I see your real face.”
“You will not speak to me that way. You will respect me.” He ran his fingers through my wet hair. “Honor thy mother and thy father.”
There were so many things I could’ve said in response to that, but I chose to throw his holy words back at him.
“The devil wears many masks. Your smile is just one of them.”
Next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground with a sharp burn radiating across my cheek. It happened so fast that I didn’t even hear the slap. Either that or I was too numb to register it. My body gave into the cold hours ago.
My clothes were so wet that they’d become a part of me, a second skin molded to my frame. I couldn’t help but think of Shelby at that moment and the sweet smile she wore when she gave me this sweater. She thought I would look pretty in purple, and now I was lying in the dirt with her birthday present weighing down my shoulders.
“Get up,” my father demanded.
I knew what was coming next. I could hear the fire crackling in the bin to my left.
When I didn’t move, his shoe connected with my hip, jarring me while I lay in the dirt. “I said get up.”
I did as I was told and pressed my palms into the ground to push myself up.
“Kneel before the Lord, Marnie, and pray for salvation.”
My jaw was already clenched when he grabbed my wrist. Salvation never came to this place.
A flash of lightning lit up my mother’s face as she passed the hot iron to my father. A crack of thunder followed from above as if the sky itself agreed with me.
I couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Mother is God in the eyes of a child.”
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t expect her to. My mother did what she always did and stepped silently into the background.
My father, on the other hand, had a lot to say.
“The devil has his grip on you, child, and it’s my duty as your father to cleanse you.”
I looked over at the bright red cross on the end of the poker.
“Purge me all you want, Father.” My eyes rolled up to lock on his, “It won’t make you clean….”
My thumb movedover the cross, scorched into my palm. This was the third brand he’d given me, and I promised myself it’d be the last. Guess I didn’t have to worry about that now. Unless I killed Preston, I was never leaving this room.
Sighing, I pushed myself up and flopped my head back against the bars of my prison. The loud twang that rang through the air snapped realization into my mind. There was a reason for leaving me in the dark. Getting mad at inanimate objects, talking to myself, and even the voice in my head were all symptoms of sensory deprivation. This was part of Preston’s plan, and I fell for it.
Son of a bitch.
Touché, Mr. Whitley.
It was an effective tactic and one that I should’ve seen coming. Naturally, Preston would do things to mess with my head. It was the only way he could beat me. That much I knew. What his end goal was, I wasn’t too sure. Actually, I had no idea what he wanted.
I thought I did, but if that assumption was true…Why was I still breathing? He should’ve killed me after he raped me. So why didn’t he? One thing was for sure. I’d have to be more careful in the future. The biggest mistake I could make would be underestimating my opponent.
‘The Devil’s greatest trick was convincing the world he didn’t exist.’
I sighed. “Are you still here.”
‘Spare the rod, spoil the….’
