Scarlett Edwards - Uncovering You - The Contract

The raven hops from one foot to the other, picks up a worm, and then cocks its head at me.

Caw ? it asks, then twitches its head up and swallows its prey.

Something moves behind me. I scream and shy back. An enormous rat, nearly the size of my head, darts across the floor, disappearing into darkness.

Just an animal , I tell myself, trying to calm my racing heart. Nothing to be scared of .

That’s the moment I notice all the beetles and roaches crawling on the floor.

I yelp and jump, propelled in equal force by fright and adrenaline. I cry out as soon as I put weight on my left foot. I collapse as a tearing pain shoots up my leg.

I land face-first on the floor, right in the middle of the scuttling army of insects. I taste dirt and spit it out.

Caw! Caw!

I scamper away, helpless, to the closest wall.

Caw! Caw! Caw!

I rock back and forth, chilled with fright. Pathetic whimpers give voice to the tears flowing down my face.

(Present day - October 2013)

I open my eyes to the brilliant expanse of my prison. I test the air with my nose. There’s no more odor.

I feel groggy, as if waking up from a long sleep. How long have I been out?

I push myself to a sitting position and look around. The tiles are clean. The vomit is gone. There are two jars close by that were not there before.

I crawl over and look at them. One is filled with water. The other is empty.

Without thought I clutch the handle of the first and start to chug. I spit the first mouthful out to clean my mouth, but the rest goes down quickly. My stomach rumbles in protest after my umpteenth heavy gulp, but my body needs the hydration.

Two more drafts and I set the jar down.

Only then does it strike me that the water might be drugged.

I start to feel sick again. I’m in the process of jamming my fingers to the back of my throat when the absurdity of what I’m doing strikes me.

You’re already a prisoner, and as vulnerable as you’re going to get. Why spike the water?

A hysterical sort of laughter builds in my chest. It’s the laughter that comes when all the lights have gone out and all hope has been extinguished. It’s the laughter of a woman on the edge of sanity.

I bolt to my feet, shaking with laughter. “What do you want from me?” I scream at the sky. I spread my arms and spin. “Show yourself! Show me who you are!”

I stood up too fast. A wave of light-headedness overcomes me. I lose my balance and fall.

My head bounces off the floor. Everything goes black again.

(Eleven years ago)

I’m twelve. It’s night time. The air is cold, and a half-moon hangs from the cloudless sky.

A hooting owl cries out in the distance. My head jerks up from its slumped position against the wall.

I’m terrified of falling asleep down here. I’m afraid I’ll never wake up. What if I end up like that skeleton?

My left ankle is swollen and hot to the touch. The foot beneath it is numb. My stomach keeps tying itself into ever-tighter knots, reminding me of my hunger.

I wonder if my mom is worried about me. She’s been so busy with Paul lately that she hasn’t paid me any attention our entire vacation.

I don’t mind Paul. He never yells or drinks. He doesn’t hurt my mom like her last boyfriend did. He just kind of happily ignores me. I was always fine with that. At least he lets mom bring me to his lake house.

I wonder if I’ll ever see him or mom again. I broke all the steps when I fell. There’s no way out. If I am found…

But no, no one will ever find me down here.

~~~

Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw!

My eyes open and I’m hit with a rush of alarm. I was asleep! For how long? I only closed my eyes for a few moments…

The first tendrils of light shine through the air, making the dust shimmer with a sinister majesty. The raven is here again. Watching me.

“What do you want, bird?” I ask.

Caw! Caw!

“I can’t get up, okay?” I yell. Tears fill my eyes. I know I’m going to die here.

Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw!

“Leave me alone!” I scream.

Caw! Caw! Caw caw caw caw caw CAW CAW!

“I can’t reach!” I shriek. “I can’t jump! And even if my foot wasn’t broken, I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway!” I begin to cry. “What more do you want? Do you want another rock thrown at you? Was the first one not enough?” I grope at the ground and find nothing but dirt. I take a fist full of it and fling it up anyway.

Caw! Caw! The raven takes off and the dirt showers to the ground.

I’m left alone with nothing but the bugs and giant rat for company.

I hate this place. I hate the moist, earthy smell. I hate the darkness that clings to the corners even during the day. I hate how close the hole in the ceiling is. It mocks me. If I were just a few inches taller, maybe I’d be able to reach…

Caw! Caw! Caw!

I scream in frustration. Most of all , I hate that goddamn bird!

It flies into the cellar and lands a foot away from me. I stare at it, amazed. It’s utterly fearless. It looks at me with its beady black eyes, then starts sticking its beak into the ground, searching for breakfast.

Wait. The dirt. That’s it!

I look around me. Dig my fingers into the ground. It’s all soft, loose earth. I may not be tall enough to reach, but I sure as heck can build up a mound!

Determination sets in. I refuse to starve in a hole in the middle of the woods. I refuse to let my fear control me. That bird doesn’t even know the meaning of the word, and I refuse to let it best me.

I go on hands and knees and start shoveling.

(Present day)

I come to with a searing headache. It feels like someone drove a spike through the back of my head.

I groan and sit up. The lights from the ceiling lamps are as bright as ever. Too bright, in fact. They make my headache worse. I can’t stand my new light sensitivity.

I look at the pillar, then suppress a shudder as my fingers brush the collar at my neck. It’s still there, of course. Did I expect anything else?

I wonder in a distracted sort of way what time it is. I wonder how long I’ve been in this room. Without a window to let sunlight in, it’s impossible to tell.

I don’t think it’s been more than a day, though. I don’t smell, for one. Two, I haven’t had the need to use the bathroom yet.

With that thought comes a sudden, unstoppable urge to urinate.

Shit! I look all around me. Does the man just expect me to piss on the floor?

While defiling the pristine tiles might seem like a small act of defiance, I’m not a pig. And I’m not that desperate. Yet.

I remember the two jars and run to the empty one. When I pick it up, I see it for what it really is.

Not a jar, you idiot. A chamber pot .

I use it and then carry it as close to the perimeter of my prison as I dare. I do not want another electrical shock.

I spot the letter I never finished reading on my way back. Just the memory of the flowing blue ink is enough to make a shiver crawl down my spine.

I make myself sit down and look at the rest anyway. There might be vital information in the words.

...Tomorrow, you will receive a contract outlining my expectations for your behavior. Compliance with my desires will grant you progressively greater freedoms. Child-like resistance will be met with apathy and a degradation of previously-earned freedoms.

Today, you entered my home as a guest. When you sign our contract, you become my property.