Juliet

The longer he stares at me, the more pissed off I get. Why won’t he answer me?

My body feels as if it’s been through a garbage disposal. If he knows something—anything—I need to know.

Regardless of whether he put me here. Which is strange, to say the least.

Because who in their right mind would trap another human being in a pit?

I frown, watching him watch me.

I wish I could force him to talk, but I don’t have any leverage.

The only thing I can do is wait until he finally decides what he’s going to do with me.

I hope it doesn’t take long because I should see a doctor. I don’t know what happened, but I remember the fire … and the pain.

Everything about this is wrong, and he’s probably the only one who knows what happened.

However, the moment I open my mouth to speak again, he turns around and leaves.

“Hey! Wait!” I yell, running to his side of the pit. “Don’t leave! Please!”

I jump up and down, but it’s no use. He won’t come back.

“Please! Let me out!” I beg again even though he probably can’t hear it.

I let out a sigh and back away from the side. I sit down in a corner and stare up at the sky, wondering how long I’ll have to stay buried under the ground. He can’t keep me in here forever because I’ll make his life miserable if he does. I’ll continue talking until he gets tired of me and finally lets me out.

It’s the only option I have left if I ever want to see the world again.

Unless … he doesn’t actually plan on keeping me here … alive.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and force the thoughts out of my mind.

I can’t think like that. Everything will be okay. I have to calm down and put my brain to use.

There must be something I can do.

Suddenly, he appears again, this time carrying something other than a spear. He throws it down between the bars and into the pit. It lands right between my feet.

When I look down, my eyes widen.

It’s … a piece of meat.

What the fuck?

My jaw drops, and I cringe.

Why the hell would he throw that at me?

I pick it up and stare at it for a second. Yep. Definitely meat.

What am I supposed to do with this?

“Eat.”

My eyes immediately dart to the dark, husky voice.

It was him.

He finally talked.

But he didn’t say what I wanted to hear.

And he can’t stop staring at the meat either.

What … he actually wants me to eat this?

I make a face and throw the meat on the ground. “No. Fuck no. What the hell is this?” I growl. “Let me out of here.”

He raises a brow and sighs out loud, then turns around again.

“No, no, wait!” I yell again, bolting to his side and jumping up and down again, but it’s no use. He won’t turn back around.

This is insane.

Some guy I don’t know locks me up in a dark, damp hole, refuses to speak to me, and then he throws meat at my face.

What the hell is happening here?

I thought this island was uninhabited. Guess we were all wrong.

Or I’m losing my mind.

I groan out loud, hoping he can hear. Then I stomp back to my usual spot and sit down again. I poke the meat a few times and feel the bile rising in my throat, so I close my eyes and pretend nothing ever happened.

Who the fuck does he think he is, chucking meat at me? Talk about barbaric.

I sigh again, wanting to scream. Not that it’s any use. I doubt anyone could hear me where I am.

Instead, I lie down and stare at the sky. Then I close my eyes and drift off into a different world. I fantasize about being back home in my own comfy bed, watching movies and binging on a bag of popcorn and a Coke.

I’d do anything for a can of Coke.

Anything for a box of chocolates … a warm shower … anything to make me forget I’m here in this deep, dark pit where nightmares are made.

Because that’s the only thing that keeps me from breaking down right now … the sheer hope that I will be able to go back to my old life again.

But I don’t even know where I am. Or how I got here. Or why.

All I know is this place isn’t my home.

It’s his.

* * *

With sticky, salty tears glued to my face, I wake up from a horrible nightmare.

Only, it wasn’t a nightmare.

It’s reality.

The ground is still dirt.

There’s no comfort of a pillow, no bottle of water to drink from, no cell phone to check, no light to turn on.

Just this same old pit where he left me.

No wonder I slept so badly.

As I get up, my whole body is stiff and painful from lying on the hard ground.

I don’t even remember falling asleep. I must’ve passed out from being so tired after everything that happened.

The sun has already gone down.

Is it night already? I’m not wearing a watch. All I have is the moon to know what time it is.

Barely any light shines into the pit, and the more I look up, the scarier this place becomes. There’s no way out. What if I die of hunger or thirst? Or worse … What if some predator comes here to get me?

I shiver at the thought, and I clutch my legs and pull them up, trying to make myself as small as I possibly can. It makes me feel a little bit safer even though I know how ridiculous that is.

There must be something I can do. Something to save me since that beast of a man obviously won’t help me.

I stare at the walls in front of me and at the bars above me, and then I get up and start jumping. Up and down. Again and again. I don’t give up. Not as long as I see my fingers go higher each time I try.

“C’mon, Jules, you can do this,” I say to myself.

I’m sweating like crazy because I’m exerting so much of my energy. That, and it’s so freaking humid here, it’s almost impossible to move without getting drenched. This isn’t at all like the climate at home.

I want to go back there. To my happy place. My comfy little home.

If I can just reach the bars and grab them, I might be able to push it open. I’ll figure out what to do next once I get to that point. But I have to focus on getting it right.

Focus on not losing my shit because I still can’t reach the damn bars.

“C’mon, Jules, you’ve got this,” I say, blowing out another breath before I continue jumping. “You did this in school, remember? This should be easy.”

I keep jumping. I don’t know for how long, but I refuse to stop, even if my feet ache. I need to get out.

When my fingertips touch the bars, a rush of excitement shoots through my veins. One more jump and I manage to hold them with just the tips of my fingers.

I groan and pull as hard as I can, trying to lift my body, but the moment I do, one of the bars snaps in two.

I fall to the ground with a smack, hitting the back of my head.

Shit. That hurt.

Another groan leaves my mouth as I rub the back of my head.

As I open my eyes, there he is again. Staring straight back at me with that dark gaze.

For a second, I stop breathing entirely.

He’s glaring at the damaged bars.

Will he punish me for breaking them? Hurt me for trying to get out?

Or worse … kill me before I run?

Goose bumps scatter on my skin, but I refuse to let him know how scared I am. My body remains rigid on the floor as I watch his every move.

His hand rises … and then he tosses something at me again.

It lands in front of me.

More meat.

The moment I look at it, I snap.

In a moment of rage, I pick it up and throw it back at him. “Stop throwing meat at my face!”

It slaps him right in the chest and flops down on the ground again.

He doesn’t even seem fazed.

“What do you want from me?” I snap, my voice fluctuating even though I don’t want it to. I can’t control myself anymore. It’s so hard when this asshole is standing there, watching me as if my struggles amuse him.

Why does he keep throwing meat at me? What is his deal?

Does he actually want me to eat that?

I wince at the thought.

I haven’t eaten meat in years, and I don’t intend for that to change anytime soon. I don’t like killing animals for food, let alone eat the meat that’s already available. I don’t like the taste anyway.

But it doesn’t matter.

If he’d thrown carrots at my face instead, I still wouldn’t have eaten them.

I’d rather die than be kept in this hellhole like some kind of pet.

I cross my arms and refuse to look at him. If he won’t answer me, so be it.

He wants to play this game?

Fine … I’ll play.

And I’ll win.