Chapter Eleven
“Good Morning, David…or is it afternoon? Do you know?”
Heather once again has raised the frame to the level of Mylee’s knees. The answer to the question is meaningless, the exercise is to encourage the prisoner to talk, to communicate no matter the level of torment or anguish.
“No.”
“No what?”
Mylee bends and tightens the strips of cloth to bring the toes of David’s broken feet just a tad closer to his heels. David screams in pain.
“No, Miss Mylee.”
“That’s better, good manners will get you fed. We’ll be spending more time together today. Part of a necessary process so we can release you from the frame. You’d like to be released, wouldn’t you David? It’s so dark and lonely down there.”
“Yes, Miss Mylee.”
“But it helps you think. And I’m sure you’re thinking about ho
