𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬

31. Tiny Little Pieces.

T H I R T Y - O N E
Tiny Little Pieces.

TW: David and everything that comes along with him.

The first thing I notice is how everything hurts, pain is what coaxes me to come to consciousness. Something that's becoming more and more common.

Underneath me is the source for my next issue: how fucking cold I am. The tiles feel like ice under my agonised skin. It stings and burns and doesn't help numb the pain.

My hair tickles my face, annoying me to no end, one of the French braids more destroyed than put together.

Everything is wrong.

But, I can't lay down and die, not again, so I push myself up. My hands sting against the floor, heaving myself to a sitting position while everything screams for me to lay back down. It's a fight to even keep my eyes open, being knocked out does not count as sleep; if anything, I'm more tired than before I was brutally knocked out. Was killing the horse really necessary? I hate them but the poor thing had no fault.

"I started worrying you wouldn't wake up," David's voice is like a shock to the system. Somehow shooting ice down my spine, making me colder than I already was. He's behind me, but even with how much my head rings and the voice is muffled, I know it's him. Slowly, I turn myself to see him, noticing that we are separated by a chain-link cage.

My body is fighting a losing war with how much I've abused it, I haven't eaten in days, only drunk a tiny bit of water and mouthfuls of whiskey, and the only "sleep" I've had in way too long was being knocked out. Everything people need, the basic things that keep them alive, I've withheld. "Let me out," my voice sounds weak, my words coming out defeated.

"Well, that's certainly the goal." I watch David nod, something he does too often. His head bobs like he's got anything to be pleased about. Perhaps making an example of me, hanging me up like Jesus on the cross. Or maybe he's lied to all of them like he lied to James, claiming I didn't do it. "Hungry?"

Every second I come to a little more the realisation of how fucked I am sets in a little more. When it was all talk with Ellie the reality didn't seem so grave, but it does now. How little control I have over what happens is apparent. "Why am I in a cage?" I ask.

"Because I'm afraid of you. You're a dangerous person," he states frankly. I have killed two of his men, he has reason to be scared. But right now I doubt I can stand up straight without help. "You've certainly proven that. The others, they want me to kill you for all that's happened. And they don't even know it was you who killed Alec and Troy." Slowly, as he speaks, I get myself to stand up, steadying myself, touching the wall until I'm almost straight but slightly hunched. My body aches, whether from where I got thrown off a horse or when they seemingly tossed me in here carelessly. "Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?"

"Yeah," I breathe out in an unbothered manner. People wanting to kill me is nothing new, it's more surprising when no one wants me hung.

"But I stopped them," his tone turns serious. This seems like another favour he thinks he's given me, maybe I'm up to three now. Maybe more.

A dry chuckle comes from me as I lean against the cold wall. "Fuck you." I can't keep myself up, my back slides against the wall and I'm sitting back on my feet. I'm too tired and everything hurts too much.

"Why don't we just start with your name?"

My hair brushes over my eyes, a feeling I cannot stand but hardly register. "Eat shit."

"Hey, listen to me!" David raises his voice at me, the first time I think he has, he always seems to speak at the same volume no matter the situation. He stands up, looking down at me, towering over me. "You can't survive on your own. No one can. But I can help you. Let me protect you." His words quieten down, back to the creepy gentle way he talks.