The Sinful Bond

Frozen

Lethargic, once again. Stuck in the prison of my own mind. I feel James rolling out of the bed, I hear the birds chirping at my window, I smell coffee filling the air from the kitchen.

My legs feel like they are tied down with concrete, sinking me into a black hole.

I feel a silent tear running down my face, but can’t raise my hand to wipe it away. I don’t wanna live like this anymore, I don’t wanna live at all anymore.

Sinking, deeper and deeper into a cold corner of nothingness, tunneled hearing makes James’s voice sound miles away. I feel his hands on my shoulders shaking me, I feel his strong arms scooping me up into him, rocking my body back and forth.

He lifts my empty vessel and carries it to the bathroom, turning on the shower. He plops me down on the sink, searching my lifeless eyes and tugs my clothes off. I don’t resist, mainly because I physically can’t, but mentally I don’t think I want to.

He wraps me around him, arms around my middle, squeezing me tightly, stepping into the tub. The water is boiling, just the way I like it. He stands for a minute letting the water cascade down my spine before sitting, wrapping me around him tighter.

“Come back to me baby.” He whispers in my ear. If it was only that simple.

The water runs down our bodies like a blissful rain, his soft lips graze mine and lightly trails over my skin. He trying to make me feel good, feel anything.

I collapse into him unable to move, he isn’t going to be able to pull me out of this one. We sit there until the water runs cold and he softly dries my body. Dressing me in one of his T-shirts that swallows me whole, and a pair of his boxers, carries me to bed softly tucking me in and kissing my forehead.

“I have to handle some things at the office I will be back very shortly.” James informs, I hear him lightly closing the front door, right as I’m drifting off.

I hear the door slam and realize I must have slept all day, the room is quiet and dark. My bladder aches so hard from not using the bathroom all day but I still can’t move, I can see the toilet from here and can’t force myself up. Tears stream from my eyes but no sobs follow.

“Molly, come on baby you got to move.” James says opening the door. Nothing, I can’t, I’m screaming inside, begging but my body is betraying me. Tears continue to flow swiftly down my face as my head slumps to the side, staring at the toilet. “Baby come on.” I hear the frustration in his voice, he aggressively runs his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know what to do Molly, come on, give me something, anything.”

I continue to move my eyes towards the bathroom, but he’s not catching on, f**k. He picks my pack of cigarettes up and goes to the living room.

I wait for his return but it doesn’t come, I hear his light snoring from the couch, the ache builds in my back. The pressure is almost to much to bare. I feel sweat trickling down my spine.

I must have exhausted myself at some point because I fell back asleep at some point. When I awake the pain is excruciating, my bladder feels like a million pounds, aching in my lower stomach, the sharp pains shooting through my back feel like lightning.

My brain is begging my body to move, my eyes shoot to the clock which reads almost eight o’clock in the morning.

My weighted hands lift to the edge of the bed trying to drag myself off to the floor. My weak muscles contract over and over again while I inch myself to the edge of the bed, eventually tumbling to the floor. A small yelp leaves my lips and I try to slide myself across the hardwood floor.

“Molly, what the f**k?” James asks, rubbing his sleepy eyes and pulls me up in his arms, fear flooded through me as I thought I might pee down both of our legs, I nod towards the bathroom but that’s all my tired body could handle. “Oh my god.” He says, in a worried tone, dragging my dead weight to the toilet and yanking down the boxers he put me in.

“Ahh.” I yelp, the pain is so intense, I grit my teeth as I release a day and half’s worth of piss.

“Baby I’m sorry I didn’t know.” He explains with a furrowed brow.

He leaves me there for a while and eventually comes back dressed. He looks handsome, he always looks handsome.

“Look I know you’re going to be mad when I say this but I texted Natalie, someone has to be here while I work.” He leans against the sink folding his arms. “She’s going to bring over her notes for your missed class today.” He further explained.

Great, a babysitter, one that never shuts up. Also one that is rich and has never seen the shithole I call home. Panic sets in, but my body doesn’t react.

He cleans me up and carries me to the living room, carefully placing me on the couch. You would figure that for as many times as he’s seen my puss I wouldn’t be so mortified at the fact of him cleaning it. Heat burns my face, and I avoid all eye contact.

“Natalie will be of more help than you think, she understands this kind of thing.” He continues.

What could pretty little Natalie possibly understand. I continue to stare at the wall away from his eye, I cannot bear to even look at him. If I could move I’d knock him down a few inches.

Speaking of knocks, Natalie is at the door.

“Hi James!” She wraps her skinny little arms around his neck. My neck, I instantly want to break her dainty little fingers.

“She on the couch, I got to go, I’m already late.” He says rushing out the door, and I’m alone, well not entirely.

“Molly, girl, I’ve missed you.” She says, emptying bags of groceries into my fridge. Great now she’s doing the most.

She drags a cushion to the floor by my head and plops down, turning on the television.

“Does this happen often?” She asks, petting my hair, running her fingers through my tangled locks.

“My mother used to do this.” She explained. Oh I see, how did I get so lucky.

“I’m here for you.” She says, digging around in her giant tote bag pulling out black nail polish, not quite her color. She pulls my hand forward and rests it on her knee, layering coats on my long, unkept nails.

I appreciate her kindness and effort, she is a good girl, I’ve just never been good at making friends. I’ve never kept anyone close because of the monster I once called my Mother.

The beating and the burning only progressed as I got older, the starving and neglect were the easy parts. I’ve never told anyone about my pain, what good would it do? How would it help me now?

She shifts me on the couch causing my shirt to ride up, her eyes widening as her hand meets her gaping mouth, and I search her tearing eyes.

“I’m so sorry someone did this to you.” She cried.

Me too, Natalie.