Marked: Chapter 8

Soft whimpers from beside me make my chest ache. The fear, the pain, rises in my chest along with hers, but there’s nothing I can do. Nothing any of us can do.

There’s been a fog lingering in my mind since I woke up a little while ago. There must have been something in the water he finally let us have.

My head throbs.

Metal creaks and the door opens again. A bright light hit my face and the door slams shut. Booted footsteps echo. I turn away from the sound, looking toward my mom. Bound and silenced by a gag, she stares down the man walking towards us. Her cheeks shimmer with tears when the flashlight beam hits her.

“Good. Everyone’s awake.” A second set of footsteps draw my attention. Another man steps out from behind the first. Two men. The first one I’ve seen before; he’s been here a lot. But my mind is heavy, and a lot of drugs have been pumped into my arm. I couldn’t be certain if the second guy was actually there at all, much less if he was the same guy.

“This here is my friend.” He slaps the second guy on the shoulder. His friend looks us over, licking his lips like a dog ready to devour his dinner.

I stare at him, forcing myself not to give in to the fear rattling my ribs. I need to play nice for now.

“You’ve got your pick,” he says, standing in front of my mom. “Dear ole Mommy here.” He yanks her gag out, letting the rag hang around her neck.

“Stop this! You have to stop!” she yells, but he raises his hand, sending the back of it across her face.

“I already told you to keep quiet. Keep it up, and I’ll take out your tongue.” He jabs a finger at her.

She sniffles and hangs her head while nodding.

“Then there’re these two.” He shuffles over to my sister, cupping her chin and pushing it back. “They’re sisters. This one has prettier eyes, I think.” He shoves her bangs away from her face. The light from his flashlight exposes the dirt on her cheeks.

She keeps quiet when he pulls the rag from her mouth. Opening and closing her jaw, she works the stiffness out before turning to look at me. Tears shimmer in her eyes.

“This one though.” He steps over to me, shining the light right in my eyes. I wince at the sudden pain and turn away. “This one has a prettier mouth.” He jerks my gag out, letting it dangle around my neck before sticking his thumb into my mouth and yanking my jaw open.

I fight, but he bound my hands behind my back after I tried to gouge out his eyes the last time he came in. It’s useless, this fighting. And every time I do, he threatens my sister, my mother. I’m going to get them killed if I keep it up.

“Leave them alone! Please. This isn’t supposed to be happening. This isn’t supposed to be happening,” Mom cries, shaking her head, like she wants to wake herself from a bad dream.

“Don’t hurt her,” I say when his jaw tightens again. “Please,” I beg. Bruises already cover Mom’s cheek from his slap.

“She’s a little tougher this one.” He pats my face and steps closer to me, straddling me until I can feel his erection pressed against my arm. “But she’s sweet once you get her settled down.”

I swallow the vomit rolling up my throat and turn away, looking to my sister.

“Have a look,” he tells his friend, then steps away.

A beam of light hits my face, then moves to my sister, then to Mom. I whine, trying to draw his attention away, but he moves to stand in front of my sister.

“How much she been used? I don’t want your sloppy leftovers.” He picks up a lock of her blonde hair and rubs it between his tobacco-stained fingers.

“By me? Only twice. She’s tight though, you won’t even notice,” the first man says.

“Don’t touch her!” I yell when he moves to cup her cheek. I jerk my body, trying to get my hands loose.

A flash of light hits me—stars dancing in my vision just before the sharp pain ricochets through my head. When will I learn?

He leans in, the stale stench of cigarettes and whiskey hit my face.

“See, I told you. This one has a lot of fight in her.” He jams his finger beneath my chin and shoves my head back. “But it’s a hell of a lot of fun getting her to settle.” He taps my cheek.

“Leave her be. Please. Leave them be,” Mom whimpers beside me.

“Isn’t that right?” The tip of a knife presses against my cheek. “You’re a sweet thing once you’ve had a good beating, and a good fucking. Isn’t that right?”

Every time I move, I feel the memory of his idea of settling me down.

“Please, just leave us alone,” I say, as softly as I can to keep him from getting pissed again.

He presses the knife harder into my cheek. Blood slides down my cheek, dripping off my chin.

“That’s not going to happen, sweetheart. I’m not done playing.” He pulls the knife away, and wipes my blood onto what’s left of my shirt. It’s torn and tattered in so many places, it might as well not be on anymore.

“Well now she’s fucking bleeding,” the second man scoffs, shining his light on my face. “I don’t want her blood all over me.” He moves the beam to my sister. “I’ll take this one. You’re right about her eyes.”

“Good call,” the first man says and shoves a rag into my mouth, dragging the other rag over it to gag me. I scream into it anyway.

He moves to my mother and does the same. The rag soaks up her cries.

I lunge toward my sister, but without my hands, I can’t get to my feet properly. I fall over in my scrambles. It’s useless. I can’t stop him.

The second man grabs the back of her hair, dragging her up to her feet once her chains have been undone.

She screams.

She cries.

She begs.

“Please! No! No! Please!” Her voice echoes against the walls of our hell.

I scream into my gag.

The door slams.

The light is all gone.

My mother whimpers.