MOON by Lindsay Becs

Author:Lindsay Becs [Becs, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-21T05:00:00+00:00

Moon: 15 years old/Endy: 18 years old

Day after day Zeus took. Every last shred of my innocence gone. In its place was left a shell of a girl. I’ve gotten good at shutting off my mind, hiding there while the monsters play. I only see Endy now on the nights when he can come to see me, which isn’t as often anymore. I think I’m fifteen now. At least that’s what I’m guessing from the number of marks on the walls around me. It’s hard to keep track.

Everything, including my body, is so different now from when I first got here. Everything feels different. Everything feels dark and cold and foreign.

Except for Endy. He still fills me with warmth and comfort. I think I’m in love with him. I think he feels the same about me.

Although, it feels like he’s pulling away from me.

Zeus has been using me in the pink room almost every day now. I hope that’s not why Endy is pulling away. Maybe it is though. Maybe he finally sees me as the filth that Zeus calls me the second he pushes me out of the room, used and abused and filled with his demons.

Today was a bad day. I don’t fight Zeus much anymore—I learned that hard lesson a long time ago—but today something snapped and I tried to fight him. Now, I’m stuck here in this stupid dark and cold cellar with a swelling eye, bloody lip, bruised ribs, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow with the throbbing between my legs. I almost cried, but I held back.

It’s my greatest victory not to let him see me cry. I save my tears for when I’m alone. I don’t even like Endy to see my tears.

I hear him unlocking the door then. I feel a smile painfully start to pull on my lips. He always knows the nights I need him most.

“Hey,” he says when his silhouette from the moon fills the doorway. “I brought you some ice and supplies to clean you up. Can you walk on your own?” he asks softly, still not moving into the small space I call home.

“I think I can move,” I mumble from swollen lips, attempting to stand on my own but stumbling and falling onto my dirt floor.

“Shit!” Endy says, moving to help me. I suck in a breath between my teeth as his arm comes around my—what I think are broken—ribs. “I’m sorry,” he grits, knowing that as he helps, it hurts me.

“You didn’t do this, Endy,” I sigh, feeling deflated when we reach the damp grass outside the cellar. He helps me sit between his legs with my back against his chest for support.

“Will you let me help you clean up? I don’t want you to get an infection.”

“Will you just hold me for a minute first?” I ask, leaning into him, letting the smell of cinnamon fill my lungs with comfort. He doesn’t say anything, just sits there with his arms draped on top of his knees that are caging me in.

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