Returned to Sender - Scarlett Johansson

Part 9

Sawyer's POV

The cast all gasped, and I knew they could see my bruises, so I just snuggled more into Scarlett as she placed the ice on my side. I wiggled in Scarlett's lap until my back was against her front, hiding the bruises that seemed to be all anyone could look at. After a minute, the silence was annoying, so I turned my head to see all the grown-ups still staring at my back. I noticed that Lizzie lady and Chris and the man, I think was RDJ; tired of not knowing his real name and deciding he looked nice, I turned to look straight at him. "Hi, I'm Sawyer. What's your name?" Everyone seemed shocked I had talked, which confused me, so I looked up at Scarlett, who just smiled at me.

"Hi, Sawyer; it's nice to meet you. I'm Robert. I'd also like to say sorry for scaring you off of your chair earlier," he spoke softly. I smiled at that. "It's ok, you all looked so scared, especially you, it was really funny. You must be so scared of Scarlett," I giggled before turning to look at Scarlett, whose smile had grown bigger than I thought was possible. "She seems like a softie to me; you're not scary, Scarlett, are you?" Scarlett laughs as she hears how scared her work friends were when they thought they hurt me before running her fingers through my hair, an action she had been doing all day that I am finding very soothing "To them, yes, to you, baby, never. I will never be scary to you, I promise" she cooed, looking at me softly. I chuckled at that and snuggled into her more.

Looking at the other men in the room, I realised I had paid no attention to introductions earlier, "And you guys are?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Which seemed to amuse them all as everyone laughed, causing me to pout. "I'm Chris, that's Mark," the big blonde one said, pointing to the guy with curly hair. "And that's Jeremy," he pointed to the other guy. "I like your voice, Chris. It sounds really cool," I replied, smiling, which made him smile, and chuckles could be heard around the room. "In fact, all of your voices sound weird; none of you come from around here, are you? Cause no one around here sounds like any of you," I questioned, looking up to Scarlett for answers.

"No baby, Chris is from Australia, and the rest are from the US. Do you know where they are?" I just nodded, looking back to Chris. "Do you have a pet koala? Or a kangaroo?" I asked excitedly; he smiled at that, shaking his head, "No, I wish; that would be cool, though, wouldn't it?" He asked back as I nodded. "So cool! Wait, your name is Chris," I turned to look at the other Chris, "And so is yours; that's so confusing" Everyone laughed again; I must be super funny cause people always seem to be laughing around here. Everyone went back to chatting, and I would occasionally say something.

Still, over time, I snuggled more into Scarlett, turning back around so my head was in her neck and slowly drifted to sleep.

I was back upstairs in the punishment room. My arms were bound in front of me, my front flush with the cold support beam of the attic. I was freezing and shivering, with no top on and only flimsy shorts covering my bottom half. I heard the sickening click of the door opening and could smell the smoke and alcohol as he entered the room.

I know what's about to happen. It has happened so many times now I have it committed to memory.

"You were a bad girl for me, sweetheart; you know what happens to bad girls now, don't you? Count for me, sweetheart, or I'll start again." He hissed. With that, the whip cracked against my back. One, two, ten, twenty, forty, forty-nine times.

Each crack against my back was more brutal than the last. I refused to cry out until the final crack of the whip numbed me of all my other senses. I let a horrific scream pass my lips, a scream that had been building over the fifty whippings. I knew better than to do that. I should be used to all this by now. This is my own fault.

Forgetting to say the number, he chuckled, "You didn't count, sweetheart. Guess we'll have to try something else." I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. I should have known, but instead, I started to beg, "Please, please don't. I can't take anymore. I'm only six. I'll be better. Please, please don't" No more. STOP!" my desperate pleas were precisely what he wanted to hear. I could hear him laughing, but it wasn't light and airy like when the cast had laughed. No, it was dark and sinister as he started to pull his belt off, followed by his dirty jeans.