“Relax, Jaden,” Darren said noticing my old scanningtendencies as he led us to the stairs. “The only danger you need toworry about is me.”
Because that makes me feel so muchbetter.
After washing upand using the bathroom, I climbedintoDarren’s bed and laid down on my side. Myback still ached slightly from the week before, and I had made damnsure I avoided all mirrors so I wouldn’t be tempted to turn aroundand witness the damage Darren had done to me.
As Darren got inbehind me, his arm reached over and pulled me to his bare chest.Tucking me in tightly, I gasped as the force of him created a sharppain in my back.
“Please, Darren, not so tight,” I mumbled quickly and softlyinto the sheets hoping he would take pity on me. There was no way Icould sleep like that all night.
By the grace ofGod, he loosened his arm just enough for comfort and gently pressedhis warm chest into my back and I instantly melted against him. Theheat soothed my still tender muscles, and I released a sigh ofrelief as I began to relax and quickly fellasleep.
***
Another two weeksflew by and my time of reflection was well over. Darren had draineda good portion of my fight out of me after he whipped me forrefusing his tattoos, but it didn’t take long for the fire in me torage again. Now, I was just pissed.
Ever since Darrenhad his name scribed into my skin,I was constantly angry and exhausted.Darren thought the tattoos would help me understand my place, butit only made me rebel more. I didn’t give a fuck about buildingtrust anymore. I wanted him to know what he did was wrong and thathe would suffer the consequencesfromme. He wantedmecompliant, but for thenext two weeks, I was anything but.
I was stillconfined to my room while Darren went to work; I had no one to talkto, nothing to do, and nowhere to go. I wanted so badly to finallyroam the house while he was away, but I knewwith my currentbehavior there was no waythat was happening—especially since I was still fighting him everychance I got now that we were officially doing things “hisway.”
I wanted to workout, but it seemed I was never afforded the chance since aproper workout required adecent meal before doing so, and I only had ten minutes before Iwas shunned back to my room until Darren came home and got me. Ifelt like calling Darren a liar for telling me I could train andthen taking away my opportunity to do so. Maybe he was stillpunishing me.
Most of the time,I would revert to stretching and advanced yogauntil I got bored. Then I would read,listen to music, or daydream about killing Darren with a rusty spoon. That thought usuallybrought me back to my positive side.
I would oftencommunicate with Darren through the songs I chose to download.Breaking Benjamin, Evanescence, Limp Bizkit, Linkin Park, and RageAgainst the Machine. The songs were all rage fueled and defiant,but he never commented on them. He approved them almost instantly.I didn’t know why, though,since they only motivated me to be angrier. Maybe he liked it. Ididn’t know.
My tattoos werenearly healed now, and I tried to just pretend they weren’t there,but they were the fuel to my rage. I would often remind myself thatthey were only ink after all and could be removed in the long run.It didn’t piss me off any less that they werethere, though. It alsodidn’t help that my stupid cuffs kept rubbing against the scabs andit made them itch like crazy. I hated those fucking things. Iwanted them off so badly, but I knew I would just get used to themeventually.
As more timepassed, I started to lose track of time, but it became apparent tome that I had been under Darren’s captivity for about a month now.His actions and reactions became more and more predictable, and Iwas able to avoid setting off any of his triggers for almost anentire week just to see if I could. But after a couple of days, Icould tell Darren was itching to fight with me again and wouldintentionally push my buttons until I snapped at him enough towarrant a punishment. Ignoringhim never worked because then he’d just punish me for not payingattention to him. I could never win against his twisted logic, andit was extremely frustrating. And then it dawned on me that Iwasn’t just here for his pleasure; I was here for hisamusement.
Some days, I wouldseriously find myself pacing back and forth in my room when I knewDarren would be home soon. I was like a loyal dog in a cage waitinganxiously for its owner to return home so they could love them. Ifelt so attention deprived when he was gone that I feared I wouldstart acting out just so someone would noticeme.
As a normal humanbeing, I was craving a connection with someone, anyone, but Darrenwas the only one available to me, and I hated him. So naturally, Ilooked forward to him coming home and letting me out of mycage.
Sleep was alsohard to come by. I barely slept a couple of hours at a time, wakingin the middle of the night covered in sweat and sometimes screamingmy lungs out. I had constant nightmares, and the stress of mysituation made it difficult to fall asleep. I was allowed to sleepin my room during the week, but when the weekends came, Darren keptme in his bed.
Eventually, I came tonotice he would never fall asleep until I had, probably nottrusting me to be awake while he slept. But then ultimately thenightmares would come and I’d wake him up. He’d always comfort meback to sleep, pulling meagainst his chest while he rubbed my back and played with my hair.It usually worked, and I found it strange that Darren could chaseaway my nightmares while still
