Free Scars: Book One by Sinden West

before
they hit the rocks. Their bones shattered into a thousand sharp shards, but
their voices remained. Come with us Paige, come with us… I stepped over
the cliff, only I didn’t shatter. I landed with my neck in a noose.
    I
woke up with a small cry, and I didn’t know where I was. But when I felt that
one hand was fastened above my head, I remembered. Aaron lay beside me, fast
asleep, but so silent that he obviously didn’t have the same nightmarish
slumber as me.
    This
room was larger than the one he kept me in. The wallpaper was the same faded
floral as in the living room, and apart from the dresser with a comb resting on
it, and a cracked mirror, there wasn’t much else besides the double bed we lay
in. My wrist was cable tied to the head board, but the other was free. I
fantasized about reaching over and strangling Aaron as he slept, but reality
told me that I didn’t have the strength for that.
    When
he moved in his sleep, it made me jump. But he only rolled over onto his side
so that his back was to me. The blanket fell away as he did so, revealing white
lines of scars crossing his back. They were bright against the tan of his skin.
They were old, and for a moment I was tempted to reach out and touch one.
    Instead,
I lay back and stared at the ceiling. I wanted to die last night, I really did.
That kind of desperation was dangerous. I needed some kind of control. I needed
some form of power, no matter how small.
    I
thought of my mother. There were so many things I disliked about her,
especially the deceit that lay in her bloodstream alongside her blood cells as
if it were part of her genetic make-up. But she was a survivor. She could
manipulate nearly any situation and place herself as Queen before anyone knew
any better.
    I
needed to be like her.
    I
turned and stared at my mark. He was yawning and showing signs of waking. This
was when I put my hand against his scars.
    He
opened his eyes and twisted his head back to look at me. I slowly removed my
hand from his scarred flesh and then he rolled onto his side to face me.
    I
frowned at him. “Who did that to you?” I asked softly.
    “It
doesn’t matter.” He raised himself up to rest his head on his hand.
    “Oh.”
Then, “Why did you put me in here?”
    “Body
heat. You were freezing.”
    I
nodded slightly then looked down at my free hand. “Well, thank you. I’ve never
been so cold in my life.” I tugged at my harnessed wrist. “Could I please use
the bathroom?”
    He
reached over to the bedside drawers and pulled out a pocket knife which he used
to cut me free. What would I have done if I knew that knife was there? But I
kept my gaze averted; I didn’t want him to know what I was thinking.
    I
rubbed my freed wrist and put a smile on my face, not too big so that it would
look natural and convincing. I hadn’t smiled in what felt like forever, and it
felt foreign on my face. When was the last time I had genuinely smiled?
    “Why
are you smiling?”
     I
looked up at his frowning face, and I instantly dropped the smile off my lips. “I
just…my wrist was hurting and now it’s free. That’s all. Can I go?”
    A
nod of his head sent me straight to the bathroom to relieve myself. I didn’t
bother running for the door or trying to find an escape. There was no point; it
would only enrage him and I doubted he would be so lax with security at this
point. After I had peed, I brushed my teeth and then dragged my fingers through
my matted hair. I tried not to look at the bruising on my face.
    I
headed back to his bedroom surprised that he hadn’t come to supervise me. He
lay in the bed, hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He must
have been listening to my movements, but he made no indication that he
registered that I was even there. I grabbed the comb from the dresser and sat
on a small stool. The mirror was large enough to show my upper body. It was so
strange to sit here as I dragged the comb through my hair and stared at my
naked