The moment the door had closed, I had fallen to my knees and then onto my side and curled up in a fetal position. I hadn't sobbed. But I silently cried while I had stared at nothing at all. I think I prefer sobs. Silence was deafening. Silence was acceptance.
He was not wrong .
That had been four days ago, and he had yet to face me while I was awake. I came out of the bathroom the day after to find a brush. A toothbrush and toothpaste on the bed at the side of another sandwich. And a pile of snacks. Then, every morning, I woke up to more food, food that was meant to last me the entire day. Fruit and yogurts, a salad on a plate wrapped up and more sandwiches. A big jug of water and a bottle of orange juice. That menu was daily. I guess I can not complain. At least he was feeding me.
B
