34. Sable
SABLE
I have no idea how long I sleep, but it feels like at least a couple of hours.
I check my phone and find that it’s already seven o’clock.
My body needed the rest, but I’m frustrated with how time keeps slipping away from me without my permission.
I’m covered in makeup that no one but the delivery men saw, and now I need a long shower.
I take my time, feeling my panic building under my skin as the water touches me.
It’s hot , I tell myself, nothing at all like the river.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I’m still very much hungry; sleep did not fix that.
I decide to turn on the TV. My principles aren’t doing a damn thing for me anyway, and I’m done punishing myself by not enjoying it.
Whatever it costs, I’ll certainly pay regardless.
I flip through channels until I find a movie I used to like, but soon, I’m bored again.
The trunk I’ve been ignoring since my first day is still there, looking at me.
I’m so hungry I start to wonder if maybe one of the old Offerings left some chips or candy inside.
Perhaps the guys are fucking with me, and there’s food inside.
Kneeling in front of it, I open the trunk, and my heart sinks when I immediately realize there is no food.
Nothing but a bunch of notebooks and a few textbooks.
I lift a few, flipping through them. They’re definitely used but in excellent condition.
I place them aside and keep digging, simple curiosity pushing me forward.
Right at the bottom, I find six black leather journals, all exactly the same.
Some are a little more worn than others, with a delicate string tying each closed.
They’re very pretty, and their secrets make them even more tempting.
I grab the first one, untying and opening to a random page.
Are they going to kill me before I get a chance to graduate?
Feminine handwriting scrawls across the page, spilling Bellthorn secrets. Everyone keeps talking about the last Offering, but did she not work out because they killed her? Sick dread fills my stomach as I keep reading.
Orion made me walk around with nothing but a paper bag over my head today.
No clothes to cover my body, no holes to see or breathe, just a bag over my head.
My face hurts from walking into a shelf because he made sure to only help me when it was convenient to him.
He apologized for that by fucking me in the quad.
I asked to remove it at lunch, and he said no.
I asked how I could eat with a bag on my head, and he laughed and told me to eat on my own time. But none of this is my own time.
My hunger grows in my stomach, and my fear turns sharp.
If this is something they’ve done before, it’s likely intentional, and how the hell am I going to stay physically strong without the nutrients to back it up?
I’m stuck here, and my hand goes to the leash secured at my throat as my panic claws me away from the inside out.
I can’t read anymore, and I slap the journal shut, reminding myself that Orian is a fucker and they’re not all as bad as him.
Someone fed her, right? Someone will feed me.
I’m not sure why I open the next book, but it’s just as grim.
The handwriting is completely different, another Offering, this one who seems to particularly hate Lex.
I plop onto my ass right in front of the trunk and keep reading their journals, allowing their experiences to fuel the fear that’s becoming my primary emotion.
If I ever had a chance to be normal again after what my father did, I feel it racing away from me with each day I spend in Bellthorn.
It’s only a year. I say that to myself a lot.
On the other side of the gates, a year seemed like nothing compared to a promising life.
Without this deal, I’d be on the streets.
Fuck, I was on the streets even with my GPA.
This is not just an education; this is me turning my life around for good.
Bellthorn is a weird fucking place, though, and that’s even without the three of them.
Parker, Lex, and Orion make three; the man who just arrived two days ago wasn’t there at the time, and I know he’s one of the doors.
There are five doors, so I assumed each person had one.
So who’s left? The reading consumes me, I can’t stop.
They all mention Orion being a loud bully, and Lex is dismissive.
And Parker is barely involved. Thankfully, none of these journals talk about sex.
It’s fucking stupid of me, but it’s the last thing I want to read about.
I reach for the last journal, and it’s empty. This one's for me.
My hands shake, and I flip through the pages trying to find one trace of ink to prove that I’m not meant to write in this one, but before I can fully be sure, the lights go out.
The fucking lights go out.
They want me to sleep? Now?
“I’m hungry!” I scream at the walls.
Shaking, I make my way to the bed, slowly trying not to trip and fucking crack my head on top of everything.
The soft covers no longer bring me much happiness, and they definitely offer no comfort.
I’m so hungry I can’t think of anything else.
I waited like a good pet, like they wanted me to do, and still I got nothing.
Tears run down my cheeks. “Fuck you guys!” I scream.
Minutes pass, and I sob. Eventually, one of the doors opens a small crack.
No light even shines through, and I jump to my feet, rushing to it.
I’m ready to beg, cry, or fuck, whatever they want, if I can have some sense of security, some guarantee that food is coming each day.
When I reach the door, the man from the gymnasium looks back at me.
The one who fought with Parker and called me his.
Tall, dark brown curls tight to his scalp and deep brown eyes like night.
He’s just as handsome as the others, but I feel a kinship with him after he defended me from those girls.
I freeze, not sure what to do, but he thrusts a paper bag into my hands, and it feels like there’s food inside.
I open it and find a sandwich, a bottle of juice, and an apple.
“Thank you,” I say. “I never asked you before. What’s your name?”
“Hadrian,” he answers. The first one of them to give it up without some secret game. I want to say more, but he closes the door before I have the chance. I’m too hungry to argue or chase him, and I quickly rip the paper and stuff my face. Focaccia, tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and prosciutto.
It’s a fancy sandwich, and I eat it gratefully in the dark.