Page 59 of Left In The Dark

“Sounds like more than a stomach ache, and what I choose to do in my free time is my business, not yours.”

He crouches over, squeezing at his stomach, and winces. “I don’t think I can finish dinner. It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time too.”

“I’ll put it up in the fridge and you can finish it tomorrow.”

“That’s if my stomach will be able to handle it tomorrow.”

“We’ll have to make sure that it can, won’t we? At least some soup or oatmeal in the morning. Not eating isn’t going to do you any good.”

“It hasn’t hurt this much until now,” he groans, turning away from me to lean lower to the ground.

“You must be really backed up.” I quickly get to my feet, leaning down to collect everything back into the bag. I leave the water where it is and return the table to the corner before turning toward him again. “I’m going to go run into the house to grab a few things. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t say anything, moving to his side as he keeps his body folded in half. His chain rattles as he kicks one of his feet, and I frown at the claw marks around the cuff. There’s a rash underneath the metal. It must be rubbing his skin raw, and it probably got wet early, making matters worse.

I reach down to touch the raw skin and he kicks again, letting out a small whimper.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better. I promise.”

He stays as he is, rubbing his face into the hay, and I quickly move down the ladder, my feet coming down almost too hard against the wood the faster I go. I don’t bother with the last three steps, jumping to the ground, and when I’m out of the barn, I take too long deciding whether or not to lock the doors behind me.

No one’s here or coming by today that I’m aware of, so it should be fine. It won’t take me long to get what I need. It wouldn’t take my dad long to turn back around and stir more trouble either.

Ignoring the unsettling thoughts, I run into the house to grab all the supplies, and it feels like forever has passed by the time I’m back in the barn and standing beside a shaking Blake

“It’s okay,” I say into the voice changer. “I’m here. We are going to get through this. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. As long as you let me do what needs to be done.”

His eyes are screwed tight and he mutters something I can’t make out as I kneel behind him.

“Stay exactly as you are. On your side is best.”

He straightens his legs a little, placing a hand in front of him as he opens his eyes halfway. “What are you going to do to me?” he cranes his neck, trying to look at what I’m doing, but quickly looks forward again when another cramp hits him.

“What I need to do to make you feel better. It’ll feel uncomfortable now, but it shouldn’t last long.”

“Okay,” he says tightly. “Please hurry. It hurts so much.”

“I’m doing my best little piglet. Some things shouldn’t be rushed.” I rub his back and he presses against my hand, moaning. It’s not the sound I want to hear, though. It should be, but I hate every minute that he cries out in agony. This is his karma. He left me hurting and he should hurt too.

My stomach folds in on itself as he sobs into the ground. “Please.”

“It’s okay. I got you. I’ll take care of you.”

“No one ever takes care of me,” he says between sniffles, almost too quietly.

“I’m not no one, am I?”

He shakes his head, swallowing hard, and he tenses when I lift the blanket in the back.

“I’m going to use something called a enema bulb to help flush you out, okay?”

“I . . . okay.”

“You know what that is?”

“Yeah.” He sucks in a breath. “I’ve used one before.”

“Okay, good. You should know what’s going to happen next, then.”