Chapter 3

• Let us play a game
• “Oh, Storm, are you ready for our little game today?”
• “Please stop this,” I sob out.
• “But why when we have so much fun?”
• Sniffling, I struggle to move as far as I can away from him, but he drags me by the chains. Feeling the burn of concrete digging into the back of my thighs being dragged against it.
• “So princess, are you hungry?”
• I stare at the monster, puzzled by his question.
• “It is just a question, Storm.
• Are you hungry and thirsty, Storm?”
• I am scared to answer, but I still shake my head yes.
• “Ok my dear, I figured as much. It has been what at least 4 days since a decent meal, correct?”
• Shaking my head as I peer down at my feet, my hands tremble.
• “Ok, so here is the deal,” but I could not concentrate on what he was saying when the most heavenly smell hit my nose. A guy by the name of Kye lays a plate down with a juicy steak, vegetables, baked potatoes with the works. Butter, cheese, green onion, bacon bits…
• Yum…
• Belly starting to rubble. Had a salad on the side with the ranch which is my favorite. Now granted, I am aware my eyes are bigger than my actual stomach, but who cares at this moment? All I want is one bite. With that notion, my body works against me and takes a step before I can completely process the scene. I did not get too far before I was yanked back by Daniel, holding onto my arm.
• “Not so fast Storm, we have the game to play, remember?” Sighing, all I can do is breathe in more of that heavenly smell.
• He points over to the plate, causing me to follow his finger while stating, “if you want that;” he pauses and looks in the direction that Kye is walking too and all I can do is stare as well.
• What is he waiting for?
• Why?
• That is when I hear a bucket clang as Kye makes his way back in. He stands five feet away from me as Daniel nods and he pours broken glass from me to the table where the plate sits.
• I stare in horror. Each time Kye took a step on the glass, I hear the crunch. I looked down at my bare feet and was aware of the predicament I was now in. Sweat forms on my forehead as I watch more glass scatter across the basement floor.
• Daniel chuckles.
• Tears form, but I will them to stay in place.
• “So, Storm I’m sure you have figured out what this game is, if you want to eat or drink you will have to walk over to the table for your food, but if you want to drink, you will walk over to the sink for the glass” and that is when I looked up and witness Kye scatter another batch of broken glass to the glass of water. Complete and total horror stretched across my face.
• “So, with that said, my dear, bone appetite.”
• He and Kye left while they carried a bone chilling laugh with them.
• All I do was stare at the water and hot food. How significant is eating and drinking? How long can an individual last without it? Staring down at all the broken glass, I pace back and forth, asking that question.
• Grabbing my abdomen, it roars like a lion, intimidating the rodents away. It is amusing because it takes my desperation for food to form such a monstrous sound to bounce off the walls for those damn pests to scamper. I stare down at the shining glass weighing on it, but still my stomach is overpowering my thoughts.
• I cannot ponder any longer as my feet move on their own accord and start to only picture the hot meal awaiting my taste buds. The smell is filling my senses, making my mouth water, and I cannot help but push through the first sign of pain that is coming through my feet as the glass slices in.
• Each step taken only seems to press down more on the glass. The more pressure I cause, the more it embeds under my skin, but I cannot stop myself from proceeding. I step forward as the first wave of pain hits me. The blood seeps out of the cuts and burns. I cannot help but check behind me as I now spot where my feet once laid, but I keep moving until each step is becoming harder and harder to push through. Gulping down my salvia, I advance.
• As my stomach keeps singing to me, I can notice how it can be powerful because I cannot detect anything but hunger at this point. I sense that the pain will be unbearable soon, but once I sit down at the plate; At the moment, I am subdued as I take the fork in my shaking grip. Even while blood smears the concrete, I still find this as a gift.
• Someone might find that comment absurd, but when you are in my shoes, or lack thereof, you may find it accurate.
• Trying to take my time with the steak, I fail when the juices drip out of my lips, coming down my chin, but I pay no mind to it as my tongue takes its first swipes of this amazing gift. Swallowing it down, I continue to eat until my belly cannot take in anymore and realize I could only eat a quarter of the meal. Two bites of my salad, four small bites of my steak, and two bites of my potatoes.
• My stomach is miserable. I wonder if I could sneak the leftovers and hide them until I am hungry again. I would have to fight those varmints off, but it would be so worth the effort for another meal. Glancing over at the glass of water on the shelf, I realize how thirsty I am. Standly abruptly; I stumble so the chair became my crutch, and that is when I realize the shards of glass that were stuck in my feet.
• Placing one foot at a time in my hand, I examine them. You know when you have that moment of hey, I need to pull this crap out of my feet because this shit hurts. Well, at the time it seemed like the right decision until I actually pulled a small piece out and the realization of my grave error has come full force. As soon as the glass leaves my skin, a huge gash shows and blood trickles out. There is nothing I can do until I get over to the other side of the wall, safe from the glass scattered in my path.
• I look up again as tears stain my cheek, heart pounding. Queasiness has taken over me, but all I can try to do is stable myself and take deep breaths before I stand and decide to get to the water. Now, I know one would think I am completely stupid to put myself through this again, but when you are thirsty, you will go through anything to get something to drink. So, taking in a shaky breath, I make the same choice and regret it by the time I make the long trek over to the other side of the room to the glass of water. Inhaling it down while trying my hardiest not to waste even a drop, I try to control my heart rate.
• The glass that was digging deeper into my feet before now has increased, and my footsteps are everywhere. It is the design of red, but I have not accomplished the artwork until I reach the final destination, which will be back over by my prison bed. What I consider my prison bed at this point will be safety from this glass hell. Sucking in a deep breath, I gather the remaining courage I must take so I could reach my safety prison.
• Stepping through the shards of glass for the third time, the pain is at an all-time high. I feel like if I do not get to my bed, I will collapse on top of the glass and doing more damage than I already have. I quicken my pace and when I get there; I am struggling to support myself as my sight goes fuzzy.
• Wooziness is preventing me from seeing straight and I wobble. Gathering the last bit of my strength left, I stare back at the glass one last time and see the final painting that was displayed. The painting will forever be stitched in my heart, like all the rest of the memories I have experienced.
• Huffing, all my will power has left me and my legs give out. Eyelids are growing heavy; while the sickness is also hard to fight as my supper comes up before I can control myself. Black spots take over my vision until all my body can do is lay there trying to fight blacking out.
• If I would have known that all of this from the get-go would have happened, I would not have gone through all of this to begin with. I cannot hold my eyelids open, and blackness takes over. Blood continues to drain out of my feet as I laid passed out.
• Will I get lucky and die while I am in this unconscious state? In the unknown, painless world.
• If only it was that simple, but of course nothing is that simple, right?