The fourth day.

Another night of watching her and reading. While she slept, I cleaned up, putting things where they should be and getting rid of the uneaten food. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to eat solid food for a while and the smell got to me a little. I ran to the bathroom before I could take the trash ( Read more... )

                The first day.

She stared at me from the bed, where she was handcuffed to the cheap bedpost. Her face was stained with tears, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and her lip cut from where she had fallen. She had stopped pleading, but still trembled and watched me with uneasiness, as if she expected me to bite.

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