To Save a Life

Lilliana has been living with her kidnapper enduring extensive abuse and rape. But something happens that changes the game, forcing Lil to fight back.

Lilliana layed on her back, eyes vacant, waiting for him to finish. It took all she had to run away. She'd take a shallow breath and retreat to the dark depths of her mind until he was finished. That's what she always did. 

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"Lil! Wake up and make your daddy some breakfast," came his coarse voice from the living room. She rolled over in her sleeping bag and forced an exhale. Every night, she thought to herself. You'd think it'd get easier.

She didn't know much, but she did know that he wasn't her father. She remembered life before him. It was easier, more carefree. She knew that he wanted her to forget, and probably thought she already had forgotten. Nevertheless, she'd been in this cabin for almost seven years, and she did well not to complain or ask questions. It only brought a beating anyway. 

"Lil." He was in the doorway now. Her heart skipped a beat and she bolted upright, taking a few shallow breaths to calm herself. He jaw was clenched. He spoke each word distictly, barely being able to restrict his anger. "I shouldn't have to tell you more than once. I want my f*****g breakfast, Lil. Now."

"Yes. Yes, of course," she stuttered. "I'm sorry. I'll be more prompt next time."

"You better be, that is, if you don't want to go to the basement." He barely whispered the last part, a slight mischevious smile playing at his lips.

Lilliana hated the basement. That's where he'd kept her when he first took her. To "teach" her what to do and what not to do. The basement was in a trapdoor between the fridge and the counter adjacent to the sink. It took exactly seven-and-a-half steps (one was broken) to get down there. It was a small room,  five feet by eight feet, with a dusty dirt floor and two sets of metal shackles on the back wall. Hers were on the left, and were the only constant the first five months of her stay in the cabin. "Dad" had taken care of her, fed her, washed her face, and told her it'd be okay. That deserved gratitude, did it not? 

Either way, no questions, no complaints, no beating. It was easier to stay on his good side anyways. Even if she was confused about the normality of their relationship, or lack thereof. 

She hopped out of the sleeping bag and pulled on a pair of shorts. She wasn't allowed to wear pants to bed. But she'd long ago become accostomed to that rule, so she walked to the kitchen and methodically got the meat out of the fridge, and started to fry it up for daddy's breakfast. She served it about five minutes later, and sat across from him with her own plate, waiting for him to take the first bite. He chewed so slowly that Lilliana could hear it. She kept her expression passive.

"You cooked it too long, again, Lil," he said quietly, shaking his head. He began to raise his voice on each word. "What am I going to do with you? Ungrateful, unteachable, unfixable MESS of a woman!" He'd stood up now, staring her down. 

"I'm sorry. I'll do better at dinner, I promise," she whispered.

"I doubt that. It's never going to be right, is it? I go out and hunt in those dark woods out there for hours every day so you can eat. And this is how you repay me for taking care of you? You burn my breakfast and refuse to improve? I've had enough of it, Lil. Walk yourself to the basement."

"No, please, not the basement. Don't put me down there."

"Would you rather I took you to the bedroom, Lil? I'll give you your choice."

She silently got up, and with her exhale came silent tears. It didn't matter if she went to the basement or not. Either way he'd come for her. She walked to the fridge and moved the rug from the trap door. She opened it, and walked down the stairs, minding her head. He followed silently. She sat against the wall, tears staining her cheeks, and waited as he locked the shackles on her wrists.

"You know the rules, Lil. I'm going out, and I'll let you come upstairs tonight." He wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked at her, his voice going soft, "This is for your own good, sweetie. You need to learn the rules." He kissed her cheek, walked back up the stairs, and let the trapdoor fall with a deep bang! of finality. 

She was alone again. Which was almost as bad as being with him. 

Reviews

[Eric Pudalov]

Hey Taylor! Thanks for requesting that I read your work. This is the first story I've read, and honestly, I really like it so far! It has a very good sense of tension, and I'm also curious to know how Lil ended up getting kidnapped in the first place...what the other circumstances are.

I'm guessing, from the way you described it in the intro, that there is more to this story, or that you're working on the next chapter. You've definitely gotten me into it!

I have one small spelling critique thus far - where it says: "She wasn't allowed to wear pants to bed. But she'd become accostomed to that rule," it should be spelled "accustomed." I'm sure there are other little tweaks you could make, but I haven't had a chance to think of them yet.

Overall, however, I do really like the story, and I'm intrigued. I want to hear more!