Chapter 4

My eyes fluttered open sometime later. I felt sticky and a little wet. My body was glued in place, unable to move. My head throbbed as I remembered what had happened before I was knocked unconscious. Suddenly, I noticed the pain in my ribs. I groaned softly and attempted to make my body lift off the floor. The partially dried blood was stuck to my face, causing a sloppy, sickly sound as I peeled away from the floor beneath me. The room was spinning so fast I thought I might puke from the motion. Soon, my vision went back to normal, and the roller coaster in my stomach calmed. I moved myself to my feet, trying to be gentle on my ribs. As I stood, I felt as if someone had lit a fire inside the right side of my chest just below my breast. The bones were definitely cracked, and I’m sure at least two were broken, but I couldn’t be sure, not without a doctor anyway, and I would never be allowed to go and see one here.

I glanced over at the oven clock that flashed a digitized time of nine thirty at night. That last kick knocked me out for over twelve hours. That was the longest I had been unconscious in a while. I tried standing straight, but the muscles in my chest begged me to stop pulling the broken and cracked ribs in an uncomfortable position. As much as I wanted to comply, I needed to finish and go home. I had to clean the blood off the floor before I left for home. If I left it there, then I would just be in trouble again. I used the counter as a crutch and bent down onto my knees. Under the kitchen sink, there were a few rags, bleach, and other cleansing items I could use. At least I wasn’t having to move too far to get the items I needed. I grabbed the bleach and a couple of the clean rags and began scrubbing the floor, attempting to get the dried red off the tiles. While almost empty, the little bleach that was left was enough to clean the liquid red pool from the white tile.

With the blood cleaned, I lifted and made my body move. Every step was agony as I made my way home. I was unable to take a deep breath, which made me lightheaded and confused as I walked against the wind. It was much colder at night, and the loss of blood didn’t help me. My teeth chattered and struck against each other with every second I was exposed to the winter air. After what seemed like hours, I finally made it back to the beautiful light blue home where my family stayed.

It was built for my mother as a gift on her wedding night with my dad. Blue was her favorite color, and as the new Luna, she wanted a home for a family and not to stay in the pack house. I twisted the knob and propped open the door glancing inside. The lights were still on, and I hesitated, but ultimately I would have little choice but to enter eventually. I tried to swallow the fear and pushed the wooden door open, welcoming the warm air inside the home.

“Decided to wake up, huh?” I jumped a bit, clutching my side at the sound of my mother’s voice in the living room. They were watching a movie tonight. They picked a movie every Saturday to watch for family night. Something I used to enjoy but was no longer welcome to enjoy. I nodded my head and quickly locked the door behind me, keeping the cold from coming in.

“You know you’re lucky we even kept you alive, and you pay us back by being out all night when you know you have responsibilities.” My mother was hard and firm with her tone. While she never beat me, she didn’t mind that my father or pack members did. She huffed and turned back to her movie, ignoring me. My brother, on the other hand, had other plans.

“Next time you’re not home to cook the family dinner, I’ll make sure what Dad did to you was nice.” With that, he spat on my face before calling me a disgusting human. My mother told me she ordered takeout tonight and for me to go to my room and not come out again, which I was thankful for. I wanted to be as far away from them as possible.

In the attic, I tried to make myself comfortable enough to wrap my ribs so they would heal properly. I’ve done this a few times, and while I haven’t mastered it, I was getting much better with the bone placements. Grabbing an old shirt and ripping off the long sleeves, I made a thin makeshift tourniquet. I bit my lip as I tied the makeshift bandage around myself. I couldn’t make it too tight, but it had to be tight enough to hold my ribs as close to their original spot as possible. I let out a small cry as I tightened the bandage into place and secured it with a knot. The worst part was over. My face was a bit easier to manage. I just wiped the dried blood off and figured I would have a massive bruise. Luckily, my nose wasn’t broken again, it hurt like hell popping it back into place last time. I tried my best to get comfortable on the cold floor and slouched into a bent position in the corner to give me some relief.

When my ribs finally stopped throbbing my stomach decided to make itself known. It was growling as if it was a monster and not an organ inside my abdomen. It had been a few days since I had any real food and I was hungry. The berries from the Forrest did little to satisfy me and with winter weather there were few left to pick anyways. Sometimes I get the family left overs but they were few and far between. They didn’t see me as worth money to eat so sometimes I would go a few days or a week without eating. Under most instances I could handle it but being injured made it much harder to bare. The rumbling of my stomach gnawed at me keeping me from resting my body. I decided I was already in trouble today I might as well eat too.

I made up my mind that when the family went to bed tonight I was going to try and sneak some food. Maybe I could find a couple things to hide in my room just in case of days like this. The only problem was it was almost impossible for me to be quiet. I could barely move and when I did it was almost like dragging my feet. If I wasn’t careful I would be spotted and I can’t imagine what would happen if I was caught again. I remember trying to sneak food multiple times during my first year enslaved, and each time I was caught the punishment got worse. If I wasn’t desperate I would avoid the thought all together, but I had no choice. In order to heal I needed to eat.

I waited out the time watching the clock across from me. Time moves slow when you watch it. The seconds turn to minutes, turn to hours. Eventually the sound of the TV died down and I heard the heavy steps of my family walking upstairs to their respective rooms. Just another hour and I can make my move. The last hour was misery. Just waiting. Time seemed to slow down even more as it got closer to one in the morning. My nerves started to get the better of me and I contemplated myself. I couldn’t screw this up this time. It’s been three days since I last ate and I know with what happened today it will be almost a week before I get a chance. It was now or never. With that in mind I got up, hunched over biting my lip and opened my door slowly. Ready to risk myself in order to survive.