5: Beaten up


Mathew and I were having dinner quietly, when one of the men from my previous cell approached our table.  He took a seat directly opposite to me. I ignored him, acting like his presence didn't scare, but my heart was thumping like crazy.

He grabbed my hand and demanded I join their table, but I declined calmly. He squeezed my hand painfully, and were it not for the guard, who showed up on time, he would have probably broken a bone or two. 

He sat back to his table, begrudgingly keeping his unwavering gaze on me. I lost my appetite. Once Mathew was done with his food, I hurriedly followed him closely. I emptied my tray and scurried out of the cafeteria. 

I kept glancing over my shoulder, to make sure no one was following me. I bumped into someone. He roughly pushed me and I landed on my ass with a cry. 

I slowly raised my painful body off the ground, wincing. I had barely held a stable footing when a hard punch to my stomach sent me staggering back. 

Matthew tried stepping closer to my aid, but his frail body got pinned on the opposite wall. “Leave him alone.” I wailed out. 

I didn't know how bad of a decision it was, to talk, until a kick on my legs landed me down again.

I desperately tried to think of something that could get me out of my situation, but nothing came to mind. I decided to shield my head from the oncoming kicks and punches. Fighting back wasn't an option, I would only guarantee my death. The block of man towering over me was the same one who had spanked my ass in block 3.

From my position on the ground, I saw Matthew limping away and hoped it was to get a guard. 

I squeezed my eyes shut and silently willed myself to not shed a tear.  A smack on my back forced me to open my eyes, as immense pain sliced through my body. 

He must have used his whole dinner to deliver the beating because I felt like a truck had run me over. He scurried away when we heard heavy thudding heading our way. I slowly dragged myself and leaned against the wall. I felt wet on my face. I shakily traced my fingers over the spot, and there was blood. A Lot of it. 

It got worse as I harshly emptied the little I had eaten on the floor. I gasped for air, in desperate need of water. I could feel my energy draining out, but I didn't dare voice my cry. Silent tears were just flowing because I couldn't stop them. The pain was just too intense, so I closed my eyes a little to relieve the pain and woke up 4 hours later.


 When I opened my eyes, I found myself laying on a somewhat comfortable bed, in a strange-smelling room. I looked around, and the drip on my left hand suggested I was in a kind of infirmary.  I tried to sit upright, but groaned when my tender ribs exerted pressure. I laid back, allowing my right hand to slide towards my ribs to have a feel of what my eyes couldn't see. 

There were bandages across my abdomen, which meant the kick I received had left massive damage on my body. I was prone to swelling, always have been. Even a simple cut takes a long time to heal, and can easily get infected. I had to see how bad it was. 

I tilted my whole body slowly to the left side, and tried to peek at my abdomen from that angle, but I couldn't see clearly. I gave up trying, and since I had no energy left in me to go back to my prior position, I decided to lay just like that, with my back facing the door. 

Time passed with me cursing my situation and Spencer 

And then the door opened. 

I wished I could turn and see who it was, but I couldn't move. It was too painful.  I sighed loudly at my helplessness when a hand was placed on my back.

I turned my head, startled by the touch, and caused more pain to shoot up my body. I muttered profanities to his amusement, embarrassing myself further. 

“Let me help you,” He offered with his usual deep baritone when he noticed I was struggling to change my position.  He slowly placed one hand under my knees, the other on my lower back, and cautiously picked me up.

He positioned me in the middle of the bed, with my back pivoted at an angle. I grunted in pain when my back hit the soft mattress.  

“ Thank you,” I managed to whimper. 

I thought he would leave right after, but he surprised me by standing there staring.

It was as if he were trying to figure me out. 

I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny and got more conscious as seconds ticked by. 

I coughed awkwardly, and that seemed to break whatever gazing fetish he seemed to have. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, and with nothing in mind to say, I simply glared at my iv drip. I wanted him to leave but at the same time, his presence made me feel safe somehow. If that even makes sense. 

“Are you in so much pain? I could ask the doctor to increase your painkiller dosage.” He said kindly.

“That would be great. “ I briefly made eye contact to convey my gratitude. 

“What about food? Are you hungry?” He urged. 

“I'm starving, I could really eat.”  Seeing I had emptied the little I had eaten. He smiled at my response, making me feel this weird excitement.  I brushed it aside, before I overthought what was probably a combination of broken ribs and hunger.

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