Surviving Depression

Chapter 17

Willow's POV:

"Wakey wakey, Willow Bear." Richard's voice sounds through the small room as I'm shaken awake. Pain jolts through my arms and chest as Richard shakes me. I stiffle a cry of pain, not wanting to give him any satisfaction whatsoever. He chuckles at me as I blink a few times to clear my blurry vision. He drops one of my arms and brings a glass of water to my lips.

"As much as I don't want to do this, I don't need you dying on me. Your torture has just begun." He grumbles as I drink the water slowly, wanting to savore it. Once I finish the water, he sets the glass aside. "What? No 'thank you'?" He asks, glaring and scowling at me. I glare back at him. I won't be the scared little girl who does everything he says. Not yet, at least. Not until he tries to kill me.

He shakes his head as he pulls out a bowl of something. I raise an eyebrow, knowing that moving would only bring me more pain.

"Rice. You're lucky I'm even feeding you, you ungrateful bitch." He states, feeding me spoonfuls of the plain rice. I didn't care if it didn't taste like anything, it was food and despite Richard calling me what he did, I was grateful. I just wouldn't say thank you.

He takes the bowl and glass before walking out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. From what I could see, it led to a hallway with other doors. I look away from the hallway and to my legs. I can't believe that bastard broke my legs. He could've just locked me up in chains or even drugged me if he wanted to. Nope, he decided to break my fucking legs.

Most people that get kidnapped would be sad that they were taken away from their family and friends. Honestly, I'm really just pissed. Yes, I miss Jeremy, Chase, Jess, and David, but I'm more mad that I won't be able to see them, possibly, ever again. I'm so mad at Richard for blaming me for my mother's death, for beating me senseless, for getting my hopes up that he could actually be my dad again. When I was 5 years old, I thought he and my mom had saved me from that dumb orphanage, but in reality, it turned out that he made my life a living hell. I had about 5 years of pure happiness that I had a family and even if I was going to school at that point, I'd made a lot of friends. Friends that I had to abandon because of Richard. Now, he has me again, and I don't even know where I'm being kept.

My thoughts were disrupted as Richard walked back into the room, humming that strange, familiar tune again. As I thought about it, I finally figured out what it was. An old nursery rhyme my parents always sang whenever we'd go to the playground. Ring Around The Rosie, but creepier this time. It reminds me of when I was a kid, but that fact didn't make it any less creepy. He hummed it slowly, so it was more like what they would sing in horror movies. It was quite cliche if you ask me.

"Willow Bear," he starts, using a nickname from my childhood. "I have a surprise for you!" Oh no... This can only be bad news.

He brings a damp washcloth to my face and starts cleaning it, humming as he does so.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice cracking. He runs the washcloth over my cracked lips, cleaning off the dried blood I could taste earlier.

"I may or may not have left your little boyfriend a note." He sings, putting the washcloth down. He started removing the gauze from my arms, torso, and legs.

"You what? What did it say?" I ask, disbelief and fear coursing through my veins. He chuckles at me as he starts running the washcloth over my body to wash the blood off, making an unsettling feeling overwhelm my brain and heart.

"Well, I gave him the address of this place, but told him if he contacted the police I would kill you. It says that he can bring Chase along if he wanted, but no one else. They're coming to get you." He says, running the washcloth over my broken legs. My eyes widen as I look at him. He wouldn't do this. There has to be a catch.