Chapter 6
Maybe Maynard thought I would get bored being locked in alone, because he started sending Waldo to keep me
company.
Waldo’s attitude had completely shifted. He brought all his toys and snacks into my room like he was trying to win
me over.
He said, “Mom, this is my favorite cake. I saved it just for you.
“And here’s my game console. You didn’t let me play games too much, so I’m giving them to you. Please smile, okay? You used to love me the most.
“Mom…”
His rambling grated on my nerves until I snapped. “Shut up! Who told you I’m your mother?”
I grabbed the snacks he handed me and threw them on the floor. Crushed chips were scattered everywhere.
Waldo looked at me with panic in his eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cried out, “No, you’re my mom. You’re the only mom I have!”
S
His wailing echoed through every corner of the room, turning the silence into chaos. All I wanted was some peace, but Maynard had to bring that little troublemaker into my room.
“Shut up!” I roared.
But instead of being quiet, Waldo wailed louder. “No! Mom, don’t you love me anymore? I’m your son, Mom!”
His sobbing pierced through my thoughts, breaking me apart.
I lunged forward and wrapped my hand around his throat. Then, I dragged him toward the surveillance camera
mounted on the ceiling. “Maynard, if you don’t want your son to die, then get someone in here and take him away!
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Waldo’s face turned beet red as he gasped and clawed at my wrists. He couldn’t believe I would hurt him. My grip was too tight, and my fingernails were already scratching his skin.
Then, the door burst open.
The guards charged in and ripped him out of my hands.
Even while being dragged away, Waldo fought to reach me. “No! No! I want you, Mom! I’m sorry. I won’t be noisy anymore.”
His struggles were useless. He was dragged away despite his protests.
I didn’t see Waldo for the next few days. I figured Maynard didn’t want him around me again. He was probably afraid I might break completely.
But Maynard started visiting me more often. Every time he showed up, he would bring a huge bouquet of roses along with all kinds of designer bags and expensive jewelry. He was clearly trying to cheer me up.
“Patricia,” he said one evening, after placing another bunch of roses at my bedside.
“I planted new rose bushes in the garden. Your favorite. By next spring, they’ll be in full bloom. You’ll be able to see them every day.”
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Chapter 6
+25 BONUS
Maynard reached out to touch my cheek, but I stared blankly and turned away.
His expression froze, and his hand awkwardly dropped back to his side.
“I want to take you to the beach tomorrow. You love the ocean, remember? You said you wanted to make it the place where we got married. Let’s go there tomorrow,” he said.
Hearing the word “ocean” made my eyes light up—not because I was excited to see the place I had been longing for, but because it meant I finally had a chance to get out. And honestly, jumping into the ocean seemed like a pretty good way to end it all.
Maynard saw the hope shining in my eyes and thought he had finally won me over.
Excited, he said, “Alright then, tomorrow we’ll all go to the beach together.”
I nodded.
The next day, I thought jumping into the ocean would be easy. But I was wrong.
To stop me from doing anything foolish, Maynard tied me to his body with a rope. He made sure I was always within his sight.
Lifeguards were stationed every thirty feet along the shoreline, ready to pull me back whenever I got too close to the water. My hope was crushed once again.
The sea breeze gently brushed the strands of hair at my temple, carrying the salty scent of seaweed.
I stared blankly at the rolling waves, wishing I could drag Maynard down with me.
I remembered the cruise incident–the moment Maynard left so resolutely. At that time, I was hopeless and gave up struggling. I had wanted nothing more than to drown.
But somehow, I survived.
This world was strange. When I wanted to live, it kept pushing me toward the edge. When I was ready to give up, it pulled me back.
After coming back from the beach, my depression didn’t get any better. If anything, it made me more determined to leave.
I tried everything–banging my head against walls, biting my tongue, refusing to eat.
For every way I tried to end it, Maynard had one more way to stop me. He tied me up, fitted me with a bite guard to keep me from chewing through my tongue, and fed me nutrients through IVs to keep me alive.
That was how I was left–hanging by a thread and still breathing only because of him.
