Chapter 16: Salt and Parchment
I knew something was wrong when Micah stormed into his room with a frown on his face and his amber drink swishing in his crystal glass. I was sitting in the corner of the room reading a book that I took from one of his shelves. At the time, I thought he wouldn't mind - I would just ask him when he got back from whatever he had left for in the morning.
But now, fear engulfed me like drowning in the cold Atlantic. I pushed the book underneath the carpet which I sat on and slowly watched him pace his room. Putting the glass to his lips, his other hand kept fisting and uncurling like he wanted to hurt something. I moved back against the shadows and pushed myself to the wall. The wood creaked underneath me as my back placed against the wall and I held my breath hoping he didn't hear. Except, he nearly immediately turned his head to where I was sitting with my arms wrapped around my legs.
I looked down at the carpet and saw that the book was concealed underneath the fabric and let out a soft sigh of relief. I looked up at him and saw his eyes shift, like he forgot I was even here. Like he forgot I even existed. He swallowed the last bit of the amber liquid and threw the glass against the side wall near the furnace. The glass shattered and the smithereens fell across the floor like rain drops. I flinched and my body recoiled against the harsh act.
I felt tears sting my eyes and I slowly counted my breaths, hoping whatever had made him this way wouldnt be a consequence to my safety.
He stalked toward me and I felt his eyes close in on the way my body was pressed against the wall. I thought back to this morning and knew that this was a different feeling. If he had been watching me, the fear that soaked my skin wasn't one I wanted to turn away from. Like his gaze intoxicated me and I wanted him to have me anyway he wanted. To take his pain away with my skin. If he needed to let his anger out, I'd be here. I was swept away with the emotion and I pressed my nails into the palm of my hand. Feeling the piercing sensation, relishing in how sick my mind had become. How embarrassing my thoughts were. If this was the price I had to pay for my release, then so be it.
Micah walked slower once he saw my breathing increase with every step he took. Nearly where I was sitting, his foot caught on the edge of the carpet. My eyes went wide when I saw his body nearly lose its calm composure, but flew down to the ridge in the carpet that almost made him trip. Following the trace of my eyes, he looked down at the small indenture underneath the fabric. His eyes held a question as he knelt down to uncover the carpet from the floor. Revealing where I hid the book.
"M-Master, I" I stuttered when he picked up the book and looked at the cover. Feeling the spine in his hands he stood and loomed over me. I refused to look in his eyes, knowing that would be my undoing. I needed to find a way to please him. Needed him to stay calm under whatever storm his mind was in.
I crawled to where his feet stood and knelt in front of him. "I didn't... I was.. I only read it for a while, Sir. To kill the t-time" I stuttered before rubbing my cheek on the cotton clad length of his leg. I felt his eyes on me as I inched closer, hoping I could please him.
"Did you ask for permission?" he hummed above me. I shut my eyes at the sound of his deep voice. It echoed around the room and dug deep into the marrow of my bones. Calling out dangers and disparities yet still I listened with intent.
"Master, please... It's only-"
"Did you ask for permission?!"
His tone raised and I knew that there was no way out of this. My shoulders sagged as I removed my cheek from his leg and looked up at him with every speck of approval. He dropped the book on the ground below him and the noise shook me to my core.
"No, Sir."
He tilted his head and looked at me like I was something to be hung from his walls. Coldness licked up my spine and I felt every hair stand on end at the way his eyes flickered from my mouth down to my neck and to the well between where my collarbones met.
"Then, ask."
I scowled in confusion. Was this a trick? I never knew him to be forgiving but then I saw brief glimpses of a man that was forced to be ruthless and cold. Underneath, something softer and warm lay but never close enough for me to understand why.
"Go on, kitten. Ask me for permission."
His voice was insistent. I didn't know what was the right answer and it made my stomach drop every second of silence that went by. If I didn't reply, I could be put back downstairs in that horrid chamber, if I did and it was a foolish decision, I could be made to starve. Walking on eggshells seemed easier than the situation I was in.
"M-May I please.. read your stories, Master?" my voice betrayed the feeling I stored inside. What came out as a deliberate apologetic whisper felt like it was wrong in my heart. There was a long beat of silence and I saw him star at me passively. Like he was thinking of anything and everything else but only me at the same time.
He caught my eyes and I felt like I was in the dead of winter with nothing but the filth on my skin to keep me from the cold sting. I blinked and felt myself frown softly up to him.
What happened to you, Micah?
I felt like pressing him to breathe, even though he was breathing already. Whatever happened today to make him cross was nothing compared to the demons he was battling within him. In that small sliver of understanding, I undressed his brain with my stare and saw through the cold exterior to a small boy still trying to find something.
"Stand up."
I obeyed almost like a reflex. My body shifted underneath me and before I knew it, I was standing up and even though he was towering above me, I never let his eyes go. I felt his hand move out and I flinched, my body reacting to potential violence before my mind could. I felt his breath hitch and he frowned slightly before finishing the journey and pushing the hair out of my eyes. Grey-silver strands had strewn across my cheek and he only wanted to curl them around my ear.
"You may read anytime you want from now on, kitten. But this time, you have done something without my permission. You have used something of mine without so much as asking. So, you must be punished."
My lips started to quiver at the word. Would I be whipped? That was the only form of punishment I knew of. That was run by the law for any rebels, criminals or outcasts. What happens to girls that read books?
"P-Please, Micah. It won't happen again. I promise -"
Before I could finish, I felt a hand wrap around my throat and I was clutching at his grip as he lead me backwards. Before I could feel the wall behind my back, I felt his body press into mine.
"Stop taking liberties" he seethed, his words clipped and broken.
I felt his hand abandon my throat and I clutched the now cold area with both my hands, gasping and swallowing as much air as I could. I saw him turn and pick up the book from the ground before inching back to kneel against his king bed post. The post itself reached high above him yet he made it look small too.
Turning the pages over, he finally looked up at me and spoke. "On your hands and knees, hold on to the bedframe if you must."
I breathed deeply and I willed myself not to cry. I was beyond that, beyond him. I shook my head in defiance softly, feeling my cheeks redden and my eyes start to burn from holding back sobs.
"Now, Kitten. Or trust me, there will something much worse in store for you."
Swallowing pleas of mercy, I stumbled toward him and knelt down. Grabbing the edge of the end of his bed. My body was slightly raised, I hung my head and felt my hair cascade down my neck. My back was on a slant and I felt his heat stare into me.
After a couple beats of nothing, I started whimpering from the thoughts. The thought of what was going to happen was a torture on its own. The mind was a vile thing when it feared being somewhere. My mind not only feared here, but feared him. I felt a noise that sounded like something ripping. I raised my head up slightly and saw my master reached forward and stuff a crumpled piece of paper in my mouth. It was a page off the book.
I muffled against the rough and dry feeling of ink and paper in my mouth. I wanted to spit it out but I knew that would only anger him, but I didn't have much time to think about it because that was when I heard the flea-like sound of the book whipping through the air before meeting my lower back.
_______
I come to on top of soft sheets. My eyes have left trails down my cheek and I think I have to wake up and open the bakery before Locky and Ma wake up. I lick my lips and frown at the dry skin. My lids felt too heavy to lift just yet, but a sweet ache scorched my lower back and the front of my arse. Another pang came from my abdomen and I wonder what has happened. We can't afford any medics just now, we have to get the bakery at a better place.
As my eyes begin to open, soft dark lights greet me. The flickering from a furnace.
I don't have a furnace in my room.
I force my eyes open and see that I am not in my room at all. The thoughts come rushing back to me and I remember how he beat me with the book. I have woken up alone in his room, on his bed with the bruises to show for it.
He had been angry at someone else. It wasn't just the book, Cinesra. I remind myself.
I repulsed at my own mind making up excuses for him. I looked down and saw the white sheets had small splatters of blood near my stomach. He left me with wounds.
I lifted the sheet that covered me and gasped at the massacre that I saw. I moved my fingers down and touched the blood that stained the sheets. This couldn't be coming from my back, except that was the only place the book met. The mental realization hit that I was menstruating. I had not found any sponges or absorbing rags in the sanitary room and I meant to ask Brinley but forgot. My heart rate increased trying to figure out how to hide the white stained sheets. The apprehension that my master might see this worried me, and new forms of torture bombarded my mind.
Before I could try and lift my body from the bed, the door to the room opened and he walked in. His dark eyes met with mine and I saw the soft attention there once more. Had he ridded all his frustration out on me? I pulled the sheets in front of me and hoped he hadn't seen the blood. His eyes shifted to the sheet and he coughed uncomfortably before walking in. It was then that I saw the small woven basket he held in one hand.
When he neared me, he placed it atop the bed. Inside were absorbing rags, with fresh underwear. Beside that were ointments and rubbing oils with a small vial that colored like what Locky made for Ma's headache pains. Micah looked down at what he brought and he reached down to give me the absorbing rag and new underwear. I held on to the cotton with my fist tight around the fabric. Simply staring at him, both of us silent. Both of us aware, so aware of the other.
Micah then pushed his sleeves up and poured some of the yellow ointment in his palm before quietly asking me to face my back towards him. Still clutching on the rag and cotton in my hand, feeling every ache from before. I slowly lifted my hands to drop the slip that I was wearing. My body physically not being able to move but I pushed through mentally and do what I do best. I obey my master and let his warm hands meet my naked torn flesh.
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