Unlikely Place of Comfort

Ch.4: Denial

I bet Simon was worried when I didn’t show up for church, but how could I pass up hanging out with my dad?
We did so many things together: torturing people, playing ticks on them, and even making some useful poisons for me to use; when I was older of course. You had to have a poison license to make them. And we did it all in one day!
I could only imagine how much we could do in a week. My dad was driving us to his house, the new one that he bought in town. It sat on a tall hill by itself. It looked like your normal two story home, but I know my dad had more than just a basement underneath it.

I knew, because he told me and was about to show me when we entered the house. My dad looked just like his picture, a black go-tee on his sharp face, a scar on his left eye brow, and short black hair with grey eyes that looked more like liquid metal.

We went into a large closet that turned out to be an elevator, and traveled down to the ‘basement’.
As we traveled down the many corridors, screams filled the air making me smile and the butterflies in my stomach act up. But as we turned our lost corner and approached a room, a loud scream pierced my heart and made my smile fade. My butterflies turned into snakes in my stomach, that made me feel uneasy for the first time.

We walked into the room: It was big and resembled an operating room. It was just like any other torture chamber, so why had this person’s scream affected me so much?

As I approached the table in the middle of the room, I froze as I looked at the person on the metal, otopsy-like, table. They were strapped down, just like the others, with leather straps on their wrists and ankles. Bruises and cuts marred their pale skin, their clothes ripped from the harsh treatment. But this person had blue eyes, and curly blond hair.

“Simon…” I said in a whisper. It felt as if my heart had suddenly shattered into a hundred pieces in knowing he was being hurt. My eyes didn’t leave his eyes as they moved to stare into mine, lifelessly. I’ve never seen Simon in such a way as this. So hurt and not full of life.

“Elle, I want you to continue to torture him.” My dad said coolly.

My eyes widened but never left Simon's. Torture him?! I couldn’t do that, the mere thought of it almost brought me to tears and made me want to throw up!

“Do it!” My dad demanded, becoming impatient.

My watering eyes shot over to his in anger, “I can’t!” My dad looked at me confused so I added, “You make me nervous.”
He smiled sadistically, “That’s fine. I have more work to do as it is.”

My eyes stayed on my dad as he walked out of the room with the people who had been torturing Simon earlier. Once he left the room I turned back to Simon and the bloody table he lay on. His blue eyes continued to stare at me, was he wondering if I would do it?

That was when my tears finally fell, going down my cheeks hotly. I bit my lip in trying not to whimper.
Simon grinned and I almost gasped at the sight, “It’s okay, Elenore.” His voice was horse from screaming. How long had he been in this room?

I shook my head before wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. “No, Simon it’s not okay.” I said shakily and I walked over to him and unbuckled the straps that held him down.

I soon found out that his wrists were bruised, red, and bleeding. He had struggled a lot, which wasn’t uncommon, but it made me feel lower than dirt in knowing that I had done this to someone else and not felt a thing.

“Are you saving me, Elenore?” Simon questioned as I unbuckled the last strap. I wished that he would stop saying my name so sweetly.

I looked up at him, suddenly realizing what he had said. I WAS saving him. I wanted to HELP him, be ther for HIM, to comfort him…

I was turning into a hero.