Page 27 of On Your Life

“If you so much as squeak, I’m afraid I’ll have to pay that pretty blonde next door a visit.” He nips at the delicate skin of my neck. “You wouldn’t want her to take away our time together, would you?”

My eyes widen at the threat and I shake my head in response. He seems satisfied with that answer and leans back, releasing my face from his grip.

I move to sit up and shove him off of me but I’m slammed back down before I can even register it.

He grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls the fabric apart down the middle, causing the buttons to fly across the cell. I hear the little plastic pieces scatter across the ground.

My breasts fall free from the cheap white bra. He stops for a moment and just stares at me. As if he’s studying every exposed area of my body to see if there’s some kind of flaw.

“Let’s see if you can keep your word, little killer.”

A sharp pain bites right above my left nipple. A yelp almost escapes before I slam my lips closed and try to focus on anything else. It feels like he’s cutting straight into my skin.

My eyes open and it takes everything I have to control the panic. He’s bent over my body. His posture looks almost comfortable as I watch him, horrified.

He’s so focused he doesn’t notice the gasps escaping my lips as he carves into my chest with a fucking razor blade. Blue eyes glance up at mine and he pauses, cocking his head to the side.

“Look at you,” he whispers. “I wonder how much you can take.”

White spots flash across my vision as he shoves the blade in deeper, continuing to carve into the delicate flesh.

I don’t want him to hurt Maxie because of me. I can be quiet.

I can be quiet.

As quickly as it came, the pain stops. I lay on my back staring at the ceiling trying to control my breathing.

In for four seconds.

Out for seven.

“Don’t forget about me, little killer,” he says from somewhere across the cell.

I hear the words but I don’t pay them any attention. My hand travels to the wound on my chest, the initial contact sends a sharp sting and then the pressure soothes it.

I feel the blood on my palm but I can’t bring myself to look at it yet. Even if I did, it's too dark in here to see anyway.

I close my eyes and think of home. For a few seconds, I let myself disappear there.

The sensation of movement beneath the cover stops my thoughts. I know I heard him leave.

It must be my imagination. Like when you’re a kid and you swear that you feel hands grabbing you from the foot of the bed. I still sleep in the center of the bed to this day because of that shit.

It happens again and I jump to the head of the bed, all thoughts of the pain in my chest gone. It’s so hard to see in here without light. The only light inside my cell comes from the red glow of the camera on the ceiling and I really don’t want to draw the attention of the man behind it.

But what the fuck was that?

As if the universe was listening, my eyes adjust a moment too late before a sharp pain pierces my calf. I let out a blood curdling scream.

There’s a fucking snake in my bed.

My legs kick and thrash trying to get it off of me. It’s slick body hits my other leg and I fight the urge to vomit. My screams are loud enough that my throat begins to hurt.

I throw my legs over the side of the bunk just as the lights cut on. It lets go, falling to the floor and smacking it loudly.

I lean forward and my screams turn silent when I see another one slithering across the floor beside it. Two brown and tan snakes are moving around on the floor like they’re hunting for their next meal.

“Help!” I yell, my voice hoarse from so much use in the middle of the night. “Snake!”