Chapter 7

Davina’s POV

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the suffocating kind that presses against your ears and makes your heart race. My body ached, every joint of my body was stiff from the cold floor.

I pushed myself up, groaning softly as sharp pains shot through my ribs. My hand pressed against the wooden floor for balance, and that’s when I noticed it.

The door was locked.

I shuffled to my feet, pushing out the dizziness out of my eyes. as I gripped the handle and twisted.

But it didn’t budge.

“No,” I whispered, as I began to panic. I rattled the handle harder. “No, no, no! You can't lock me here.”

When I couldn't get an answer, I banged my fist against the door, “Please! Open the door! Somebody, please!”

Yet, there was no answer. I was hungry and weak.

I pressed my forehead against the cold wood, as tears streamed down my face. “Please,” I begged, through the mind link. “I’ll do anything. Just let me out.”

The silence mocked me.

Hours passed or maybe it was minutes, I didn't hear from anyone so I slumped against the wall, and my stomach growled angrily. My throat was dry, and my lips cracked. Every muscle in my body screamed for relief, but all I could do was sit there, feeling helpless.

The sound of footsteps outside the door snapped me out of my daze. I scrambled to my feet, feeling a bit hopeful at least someone was coming.

“Please!” I called out. “I’m sorry! Whatever I did, I’m sorry! Just let me out!”

The door squeaked open, and Lyra walked inside, her lips curled into a cruel smirk. And behind her, was my mother, carrying a tray of food.

I perceived the aroma of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, and something sweet I couldn't pinpoint. My stomach twisted painfully at the sight of it.

“Hungry, Davina?” Lyra asked, tilting her head mockingly.

I nodded frantically. “Yes… yes, please.”

My mother stepped forward, holding the tray just out of reach. “Oh, this?” she said smiling. I could tell that it was a fake smile. “You want this?”

“Yes,” I whispered through the mindlink, shaking my head.

Lyra laughed coldly. “Look at her. Like a pathetic little dog. You really want to eat.”

My mother lowered the tray, just enough for me to reach for it, but the moment my fingers brushed the tray, she yanked it back. Although I wasn't expecting them to bring me such delicious looking food. I haven't had one since my father died.

“Oops,” she said, her smile widening. “Clumsy me.”

My stomach churned as tears filled my eyes. “Please,” I begged. “I haven’t eaten… please.”

Lyra leaned closer, and whispered harshly to my ears. “Beg louder, Davina. Maybe we’ll think about it.”

I swallowed my pride, and pleaded as loud as my mind could take. “I’m begging you. Please, I’m starving.”

My mother’s laughter echoed through the room. “Starving? Oh, sweet girl, this is just the beginning. You don’t know what starving feels like yet.”

They turned and walked out, taking the tray with them. The door slammed shut, as the locked the door again.

I sank to the floor, with my head in my hands, crying.

It wasn’t the hunger that hurt the most, though it gnawed at me like a wild animal. It was the humiliation. The way they looked at me, spoke to me, as if I was less than nothing.

Time passed in a haze. I drifted in and out of restless sleep, the ache in my stomach kept growing sharper with every passing hour. My throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper, and my body trembled from the cold.

The door opened again, and I flinched, instinctively curling into myself.

Lyra sauntered in, holding a small cup of water. She crouched in front of me, flashing a sweet sickening smile at me.

“Thirsty, dumb sister?”

I nodded, as my mind was too weak to form words.

She held the cup to my lips, and I drank greedily, the cool liquid was kind enough to soothe my dry throat. But just as I started to feel relief, she pulled the cup away and poured the rest onto the floor.

“Oops,” she said with a mock gasp. “Guess you’ll have to wait for more.”

My hands clenched into fists, and my nails dug into my palms. But I didn’t have the strength to fight back. I couldn't have.

My mother came out from the doorway, with her arms crossed. “Still alive, I see.”

Barely, I thought.

She stepped forward,glaring at me. “You think you’re special, don’t you? Just because Malcolm looked at you twice?”

“I don’t think that,” I whispered, through the link.

She ignored me, but I guess my response got her more angry. “You’ve brought nothing but shame to this family. Do you know how many times I’ve wished you were never born?”

The words cut deep, but I refused to let her see the tears threatening to spill.

“You’re a disgrace,” Lyra added, in a cold tone. “And you’ll never be anything more.”

They left me there again, locking the door behind them.

I stared at the floor, crying helplessly. How much longer could I endure this? My body was weak, my spirit was even weaker. Every second felt like an eternity, every breath felt like a struggle.

But as I sat there, something stirred deep within me. A bit of anger. I didn't deserve this.

They could beat me, starve me, humiliate me. But they couldn’t break me. Not completely.

I wouldn't let them.

The sound of the lock turning startled me, and I looked up as the door opened. But this time, it wasn’t Lyra or mother.

It was someone else.

My heart raced as I tried to make out the big leg that was approaching from the doorway, I didn't see the face clearly.

“Who… who are you?” I whispered, in my head, shaking.

I didn’t get an answer.

And then, I blanked out.