I had been down here now for a week. I was going stir-crazy. There was no TV down here, no window low enough for me to look out of, only the bed and the bathroom. A few storage boxes at the far back, I had rummaged through them and only managed to find some paperwork and a red pen along with an old lamp shade.
On day two, I tried the windows, yet I couldn’t get them to unlock. I thought about smashing them but knew they would hear and I wasn’t sure punching it was a good idea. I would probably only end up hurting myself. So instead, I did what I did every day, showered and slept.
Ate when I would hear the door open up before Thane or the housekeeper would set food on the top step. I tried waiting by the door a couple of times, but the times were so . random that I would end up with a sore back and have to leave the steps. Only to miss the brief chance I had each day. It made me wonder if there was a hidden camera on the stairs I couldn’t see.
Sometime later, I would guess around lunchtime; I heard the door open before I heard my food be set on the step and Thane’s scent wasted to me. My belly rumbled hungrily, and I forced myself up before stopping by the documents I found and had been doodling on. Glancing at the steps, I wondered if he was in the kitchen still. Retrieving my red pen that was running out of ink, I scribbled on a piece of paper. Can I have a TV?
| glanced at my handwriting before climbing the steps to retrieve the sandwich left there. It was the same thing every day, and I was getting sick of eating ham and tomato sandwiches for lunch. Sick of eating soup and bread for dinner. Mostly I hated the porridge of a morning that I always tipped down the toilet. I couldn’t stand the smell of it.
Climbing the steps, I look at the gap beneath the door and slide paper through, pinched between my fingers. I wiggle it, hoping someone is in the kitchen and sees it. A few seconds later, it was plucked from my fingers, and I gasped excitedly that someone was there. A few seconds later, it was slid back under the door.
“No!” Thane snaps at me from the other side of the door, and my stomach sinks. It was so quiet down here, lonely. Fighting back the tears, I use the pen to write something else.
I slid the paper under the door again, and it didn’t take long before it was plucked from my fingers. Only I get no answer this time. Instead, I get the front page of the daily newspaper pushed under the door. I stare at it. Emotion chokes me that he would deny something so minuscule. What does it matter if I read? Yet I had one page of a newspaper that was taken up mainly by a black and white photo.
I try to peer under the door’s gap, thinking maybe the rest just didn’t fit through, but all | see is only the tiles that lead into the kitchen. With a sigh, I grab my sandwich and walk back down the stairs with my half a page of reading material.
He could have at least given me the comic section or maybe a horoscope page. Instead, I got some crap on a new building development that was being built across the other side of the city, yet the page ended before I could find out the juicy details of where exactly. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like I would ever get to check it out anyway.
As the day passed, I slipped deeper into my head, deeper into the depression that came with it. Only the door’s opening and footsteps on the stairs made me shoot upright from inside the Den.
Thane walked down the stairs with a tray in his hand. I stood up to convince him to let me upstairs. Yet the moment I climb out of the Den, he commands me.
“Remain where you are until I leave,” he orders as he sets down the tray on the tiny table that I found was attached to the floor. I know because I tried to move it closer to a window. The command washes over me, making every muscle tense and freezing me on the spot.
Once he sets the tray down, I hear more footsteps on the stairs. I glance up to see Rhen glaring at me while carrying a load of washing. He sets it on the counter beside the washing machine and loads it in. Neither of them said anything to me, which kind of bugged me. A conversation with someone other than the bizarre inner monologue running in my head would be nice.
Once they have loaded the washing machine, they both leave, and I feel his command go with him. However, I find when I make my way over to the tray; that it has two books on it.
I picked both up, looking at them. Was he just being cruel? Was he taunting me, knowing it would be pointless to read these. Both of them were pregnancy books and what to expect after the baby is born. But by Thane’s claims, I would never get to hold it, so what use was these to me if not to taunt me?
Setting them down, I looked in the bowl. My soup was almost cold, and I begrudgingly mopped every bit up with a piece of bread. When I am done, I once again shower.
I hope they run out of hot water upstairs with all my showering, or his water bill is high. F**k him. Once I hopped out though I was once again bored with nothing to do, I moved toward the small table and picked up the books glancing over them.
Reading over the back of one of the books, the washing machine does its little jingle, telling me the load was finished. I suppose it was something to do. Boredom would be the death of me if I didn’t die by Thane’s hand first.
So I take the washing out and dump it in the dryer. Maybe if I help, he will get me different books or maybe give me the TV I asked for. Even prisoners are allowed a TV in jail, it’s not like I asked for anything to extravagant.