Free Stained by Cheryl Rainfield

body.
    Brian grunts. Something heavy thuds to my feet, the floor reverberating. Brian grips my shoulders. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    â€œLet me go!” I wrench away and try to get past him.
    Brian jerks me back. “This is your new home, Sarah. Get used to it. And let me tell you, you’ve got it better than the others did, so quit your victim act. I know you’re stronger than they were.”
    Others. Bile rises in my throat. I swallow it back. There was more than one. “What happened to them?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
    Brian shoves me back farther, one foot nudging something along the floor, making a scraping noise. The door slams shut. “I gave them freedom from the pain in their lives—the same way I’ll give it to you.”
    â€œI don’t need that! I’m happy. Just let me go home.”
    â€œYou didn’t look happy yesterday when those boys were taunting you. I’ll bet you would have gone straight to your mommy, crying your eyes out, wanting her to make it all better. And your poor mother would have been crying along with you.” His voice cracks. “That’s not happy, Sarah. Not for you, and not for anyone around you. But I can give you happiness. I can give you freedom from your pain.”
    â€œI don’t need freedom. Mom says that pain makes us stronger.”
    â€œShe
would
say that. She has to reassure you, and herself, too. It’s how she gets through the pain you cause her.”
    â€œJust let me go home. I won’t tell anyone.”
    â€œSorry, no can do,” Brian says cheerfully.
    It almost sounds like he cares about my mom. I bite my lip. “If you keep me here, you’re not just hurting me; you’re hurting my mom and dad, too.”
    â€œYou’re the one who’s hurting them.” He takes hold of my hands, his skin soft, like he uses hand cream. I try to yank away, and he squeezes my hands tighter, my bones grinding together. “Your parents can’t look at you without suffering.”
    â€œAnd that’s
my
fault?” God, he’s already got me believing him. I’ve got to stay with my own reality. “They love me. Not knowing where I am is what will make them suffer.”
    â€œThat will fade. And then they will feel better—a whole lot better. They will know freedom, too.” He lets go of my hands. “I brought you some food.”
    My stomach growls loudly. I want to punch it into silence.
    Brian laughs.
    I clench my teeth, hating that he knows I’m hungry. Hating that he is here. I back up into a wall. The room feels too small with him in it.
    â€œYou see? I tend to your needs. I am merciful—more than your parents have ever been.”
    I turn my stained cheek away from his voice and lick my dry, rough lips.
He’s crazy. He’s crazy, and I never saw it.
    â€œYou thirsty? You must be. Do you want something to drink?”
    I want to refuse him, but my throat aches too much. “Please.”
    â€œGood. You can have something, then. I’m not unreasonable.”
    â€œThen let me go.”
    Brian doesn’t answer. There’s the sound of a zipper, then a cap unscrewing and liquid being poured into a cup. He holds the cup to my lips, and it shakes, or maybe I’m the one shaking.
    I gulp at the water, trying to drink it all before he takes it away. The strap pinches my throat and water dribbles over my chin and down my neck, but I don’t care; it tastes so sweet and good.
    He takes the cup away.
    â€œNo! Please. Not yet.”
    â€œYou’ll give yourself cramps if you drink too fast,” Brian says. “Just wait a minute.”
    His voice is almost tender. I don’t understand how he can sound like that. He’s a monster.
    â€œAre you hungry?” Brian asks. “Think you could eat something?”
    Saliva fills my mouth. I want to gobble down whatever he offers me,