Amber

Chapter 13

Hailey

November 6, 2015

Lauren stays in the corner as the door opens, and he shuffles inside.

My first thought is that there are two of us. Maybe if we work together, we can overpower him and run to freedom.

But then I look to Lauren—all cut up and fragile and barely enough energy to not be asleep for an hour or two at a time.

This is what he wants. He wants us weak and defenseless and drained of any hope of ever leaving. I need to get out before I let that happen to me.

If it were only me down here, I would run up and attack him right now. I would either get past him and escape or die trying. But it's not. I can't leave without her. We need some kind of a plan.

I've already spent some time thinking about it. I've decided that I can't come up with a good enough plan until I know the routine. I have to watch him long enough to know what to expect and how to predict what will happen. We may only have one shot at trying to leave together.

He's carrying something—a long shadow shaped like a snake. A rope. Maybe more than one. He labors forward in my direction, and I begin to back away.

It isn't hard to move away from him. Not at all. But he's so big that I could never get around him so long as he keeps himself between the door and me.

I back up farther, and he continues to follow me into the room, leaving the door open behind him. As soon as I've backed up past the center of the room, I can't contain myself.

"Run, Lauren!"

I don't even think about the fact that if she escapes I'll be alone down here. My only thought is that this is her chance to get out. Only—she doesn't take it.

She remains sitting in the corner, looking at me as if I'm crazy. Warning me with her eyes of what's about to happen.

I scream it again, still backing away, but now he moves quickly, closing in on me as I reach the back wall and turn to run to the right. My feet move, but I'm caught by something.

My hair.

He has my hair in his closed fist again. At first I think he's going to keep holding me there. So I turn around to face him, and that's when the pain comes, heavy and all at once as his closed fist meets my cheek. I cry out for Lauren to run again as his fist returns for the other cheek.

The darkness has stars now. Hundreds of fuzzy, little spinning stars that fade from red to white. The pain in the back of my head has traveled to my face, settling there in a constant stinging stab of heat.

He drags me by my hair to the center of the floor and begins tying my ankles together, knotting the rope several times. Then he leaves me there, hobbling over to Lauren to do the same to her while she does nothing to resist.

He drags her until she's next to me. Then he leaves—at least for a moment.

While he's gone my eyes move from the open door to Lauren and back again.

"Why didn't you listen to me? You could have made it."

She shakes her head, almost as if to say, "Listen, new girl. You don't know what you're talking about."

He's back already, now carrying what looks like the shape of a paper bag in the darkness. He shuffles up to us, reaching inside and tossing a slice of bread on the floor in between us. He hovers there watching, as if waiting for us to fight each other for it.

I motion for Lauren to eat it. It only feels like I'm starving. She actually is.

Her dirt-covered hands find the bread, and as she lifts she begins to tear it down the middle into two pieces, giving one to me before devouring her own. I don't hesitate too long before eating the one I'm offered.

He reaches for another slice and does the same thing, watching as we divide the second slice the same as the first and both eat our share. Then he crumbles the bag and pitches it softly at Lauren before shuffling back out of the room. When he returns this time, it's with a metal chair scraping against the floor as he drags it behind him, centers it between us a few feet away, and sits. He glances over at Lauren and nods, lightly patting his right knee.

Lauren crawls over to him.

"What are you doing?"

She gains her feet, shooting me the same look as before while climbing onto his lap.

She sits there, face lowered and body shaking for the first time since I found her. He reaches into his pants pocket and removes a long knife, bringing it up to his trembling face. There's a soft noise coming from his mouth or his nose or somewhere inside him that almost sounds like laughter being held in and choked down like a child trying not to be found at hide and seek.

Then he moves the knife toward Lauren's face ...

"Wait. Just wait, okay?" I shift forward toward them. "Stop. You don't have to do this."

But he either isn't listening or doesn't care because the knife is already against her skin.

"Just wait! Are you fucking serious? Why are you doing this?"

I'm the only one protesting. Lauren sits there on his lap like he's reading her a bedtime story as the knife makes another cut, long and deep across her chin, spilling blood down the knife and onto her dress to mix with the other red stains.

God, he's really cutting her. You have to do something.

"Please stop." I'm crying now, speaking through gritted teeth and crawling forward so that I'm right next to him. "Just fucking stop."

He cuts her again. I can see the tears in her eyes, but she still isn't making a sound. She doesn't want him to know how bad it hurts.

Then he motions with the knife to the floor, and Lauren hops down from his lap and back to the center of the room, blood dripping from her face onto the stone. I look up, still crying as he pats his other knee.

"No. Why? I don't ... please."

How is this even happening? I don't see any way in which climbing up onto his lap to let him cut me is my best option. No fucking way. So I scoot along the floor, backing up until my back finds the wall. I look to Lauren, wondering if she acted the same way the first time he tried to cut her. Wondering if I'll act the same way the next time ...

He's on his feet and shuffling to me with the same anger on his face as after I attacked him getting out of the trunk. He shuffles to a stop, bending over me and reaching until he grabs ...

My hair again. God, always my hair.

It feels like he's pulling it free of my head this time, and I let out a wail that rings through the room while he drags me back, forcing my head onto the chair, the right side of my face meeting the cold metal.

Then he starts cutting ...

I feel warmth at first. Lauren's blood, still hot on the knife meeting my skin. And then there's pain beyond anything I've ever felt before, starting in my cheek near my left eye and expanding down like something ripping apart my skin and setting fire to everything inside.

I scream at him like I can somehow get him to see how much this hurts and convince him to stop. Like some bolt of lightning from my voice can strike him hard enough to see how evil he is.

He holds my head down harder and cuts again.

My eyes look past the layers of tears to Lauren who is sitting, holding her knees into her body as she faces the wall, probably hoping he'll cut my throat so that she doesn't have to hear me scream.

Be strong. Be strong for Lauren.

Only ... I don't know how. I don't remember what strength looks like. I don't know if anyone's coming for us. I don't know if they'll ever find us.

It would be so easy to give up. All I'd have to do is keep screaming, and he would keep cutting. Then he would go too far, and it would all be over.

So easy to let go.

But I'm not going to. Because she's not here to pull me in with her. I know that now. No. Not Hannah. She's back to being my force field again. That's why she's come back. That's why she's here.

To teach me to be onetoo.