Dani René

Padre was so angry when I didn’t want to act out the orders he’d given. When he commanded me to kiss her, to taste and lick her, I couldn’t bring myself to because she cried so much. He didn’t understand that I love her, and I don’t want to hurt her.

He likes when she cries. He gets hard when tears drip down her cheeks. I’ve seen him lick his lips when she’s shaking in fear, but that’s not me. It can never be. I will never be like Padre.

Darkness is a friend. And silence, it’s a strange bedfellow. They told me once I’m cured, I’d be able to leave here, but how will they know when I’m cured if they never allow me into the house?

A sound has me alert. Soft shuffling. Something scraping against the wood that covers the pit where I’ve been for the past year. Then, a sliver of light burns my eyes, and I have to cower in the shadows. I can’t see anything with the sunshine streaming in. That’s when I hear the voice.

“They don’t know I’m here, but I managed to come outside.” Her sweet tentative voice is enough to tell me I’m still sick. I’m not cured in anyway. All these months haven’t helped at all. The agony in my chest makes it difficult to breathe.

“You should go.”

“I thought . . . I mean . . . Do you miss me?” Her question vibrates through every bone in my body. The cold is no comparison to how her voice makes me feel. Hot

Hot and cold at the same time. It feels like I’m burning, but I’m shivering.

“Go into the house. Don’t come out here again.” I shouldn’t be mean to her. But I can’t help it. She shouldn’t be here, be near me again. This is wrong.

She doesn’t respond. Something drops to the sandy floor of the pit, and then silence. I’m alone now, and I scuffle through the dust to figure out what she threw into

the hole. As soon as I see it, I know. Fear prickles through me.

She’s come to warn me.

He’s not trying to cure me.

He was biding his time.

Fuck.