Silent Touch

Mason was cleaning up a new cut that was forming on the inside of his thigh and began to stitch it up. He bit down hard on a piece of cardboard and began to stitch himself. He shivered from the cold from his room. Well, some people wouldn’t even call it a room. It was more like a prison. The walls were bland; there was a very small window to peak through to see the outside, the only thing inside the room was a very hard mattress with a very thin blanket with a few holes in it, and the floor made of solid concrete.

He finished stitching his wound and took the piece of cardboard out of his mouth. He spit out the taste in his mouth and wrapped the inside of his thigh with gauge to make sure that the wound doesn’t get infected or decides to open. He stood up and tried to walk, but he instead walked with a limp. He gritted his teeth and tried to not think about the pain, but it just hurt even worse. He took a deep breath and walked out of his ‘room’. He walked up the cold stone stairs and peaked through.

“Morning, Mason,” a friendly voice greeted.

Mason jumped lightly and walked through the room, looking around and saw the girl from yesterday; the one with the light Southern accent. He said nothing and just stared at her. The girl looked confused.

“It’s alright, darlin’. I won’t hurt’cha,” the girl – Casey he thinks her name is – confirmed.

He just kept staring at her. When she inched forward, he inched back. Casey got even more confused.

“What, you’re afraid I’m gonna hurt you?” Casey questioned.

Mason was silent and didn’t say anything.

“Casey, what did I tell you about Mason? He’s extremely sensitive and will take a very long time before he decides he can trust you,” a new voice – Amy – told her.

“I know that, but I’m still curious about him,” Casey stated.

Amy rolled her eyes and moved Casey away from him. Mason did his usual bow and walked towards the fridge to see if there was anything to eat for himself. He found a bit of scraps and a few leftovers, but he decided on the scraps. He took it out and ate some of it.

“What are you doing?” a new voice asked.

Mason almost dropped the plate when he looked up. Ms. Young was standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, wearing a bright pink bathrobe and her hair in curlers.

“Mistress, he was only hungry. He didn’t –” Casey started.

Ms. Young didn’t hear the rest of the statement because she yanked at Mason’s arm, forcing him to drop the plate of scraps and forced him back into Mason’s room. He tried to get away from her, but she tightened her grip and threw him inside the basement. Ms. Young stepped inside the room and grabbed the nearest weapon on the wall, which happened to be a whip. Mason grew terrified and inched away from her.

“What did I tell you about stealing food from the fridge?” Ms. Young demanded, cracking the whip.

Mason flinched and looked up.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I was just so hungry I-”

Mason didn’t get to finish his excuse because soon enough, he felt the sting when he heard the crack of the whip. He bit his lip hard to stop himself from crying out.

“I’ve told you before, darling; if you steal food from me, I won’t be hesitant to whip you until I see your spine,” Ms. Young threatened, whipping him the second time and leaving another fresh mark on his back.

He clawed on the hard floor and tried to hold back his cries of pain. Ms. Young didn’t care and kept hitting him with the whip. After five slashes on his back, Ms. Young stopped and set the whip back on the wall.

“What did we learn, Mason?” Ms. Young asked him.

“I can’t steal food from the fridge,” Mason answered, looking up at him with fearful eyes.

“Very good, pet. I want you to remember that from now on,” Ms. Young stated, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Mason got up and was going to open the door, but it was locked from the outside. He looked up at the door and began to pound on it.

“Someone get me out of here! Please!” he begged.

“You’re not aloud out of there. This is your punishment. Not only that, but you shall not be fed or watered for the rest of the day,” Ms. Young told him.

Mason let the silent tears slip from his eyes and sat on the ground. His stomach began to growl at him. He clutched onto his stomach and bit his lip. He was in so much pain, but he refused to give her the benefit of a doubt. He slipped into his ‘bed’ and curled underneath his thin blanket to actually get some sort of warmth. He closed his eyes and tried to get some sort of sleep. He didn’t want to think how thirsty or hungry he was.

He woke up a few hours later and felt his throat was dry. He tried to swallow the spit inside his mouth, but his throat hurt too much to swallow anything. His stomach growled loudly that it could be heard in the room. He stood up from the mattress, but soon fell over. Mason couldn’t get up. He was so weak. He lifted himself up, but felt himself shake from lack of water or food. He heard the door open and lifted his head up.

“Mason?” a voice questioned.

Mason grew weak and set his head back down on the cold floor. He heard footsteps approach him and felt his head rest against someone’s lap.

“Mason, have you eaten anything?” the voice asked.

All he did was shake his head. “I’m not allowed to,” he answered, his voice sounding scratched and unused.

The person ran his fingers through his hair. Mason looked up and saw that it was Christopher.

“I’m going to get some food for you, okay. You need something to eat. You’re so thin,” Christopher commented.

Mason didn’t say anything. He was too weak and too hungry to say anything.

Christopher gently lifted his head and gently set his head on the cold floor. He got up from his spot on the floor and walked upstairs where the kitchen was and found some scraps of food from the fridge that looked like it was being half eaten, but then was soon stopped and was now left with about half of what’s on the plate. He took the plate and went back downstairs to find Mason in the same position and spot he was in when he left.

“Mason, I brought food,” Christopher told him.

He hardly moved. Christopher walked towards him and saw Mason breathing unevenly. He set the food in front of him and lifted Mason up so he was leaning against his chest. He gently opened his mouth and tipped the glass of water inside his mouth. Mason cracked his eyes open and swallowed the water.

“T-thank you,” he muttered.

Christopher smiled softly and fed him some of the scraps of food that he took from the kitchen.

“How did you get in?” Mason asked, looking up from his food.

“I took the key from my mother when she wasn’t looking. I noticed that you weren’t around and I needed to see if you were okay,” he told him, still feeding him the rest of the scraps.

Mason nodded his head and finished eating from the plate.

“Thank you… for everything,” Mason said, looking up at him.

Christopher smiled softly and hugged him, making Mason tense up. He wasn’t used to anybody giving him a hug or any other form of physical contact besides what Ms. Young gives him.

“I’ll always be here, Mason. Remember that and don’t you forget that,” Christopher told him.

Mason nodded his head and looked down at the plate. Christopher handed him a glass of water and Mason took it, downing it until there wasn’t a drop of water left. He wiped his mouth from any water that spilled out of his mouth and handed the glass back to Christopher.

“I’m not supposed to give you any, but you looked so frail. I didn’t want anything to happen to you,” Christopher confessed.

Mason nodded his head and looked up at him.

“Well, I’m better now. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Mistress,” he told Christopher.

Christopher nodded his head and took the plate and the glass of water towards the kitchen so that it could be cleaned. He looked back at the basement door and bit his lip. He locked the door and set the key down on the kitchen counter. He left the kitchen and walked towards his room.