Faint

Courtney's POV:


I ate every two weeks.

By my second week in my prison, the first basket had appeared, with it, a pen and paper, along with the knife. I quickly relished in the sweetness of the blood-red apple and quenched my thirst with the tiny bottle of water, but I tried my best to save as much as I could. I didn't know when I'd get water next. I wrote my first letter to my brother that night, telling him everything, but also nothing at all.

I blacked out after that. The fruit had been poisoned, a lot like in the fairytale of Snow White. I collapsed onto the cold, hard ground after that, and when I awoke, everything was gone, except for the knife. When I came too fully, I tried my best to stand, but found my limbs mostly immobile, the apple having sucked the energy from my bones with one tiny bite. The water also parched my throat even more than before, a punishment for drinking so greedily I found out later.

I used the knife to slash pale scrapes into the cool, grey wall, wincing at the sharp sound. That was how I kept track of time and the days that past. It wasn't a fool-proof plan however, seeing as I fell into an unconscious state around half the time, usually from lack of proper nutrition, or the many hearings I received on a daily basis.

The worst happened around two months into my captivity. I was severely weakened from my malnutrition, but had so far managed to stay healthy. I wasn't to fall ill until my third month, where I got the flu and vomited up any food I was given. No, the second month, was by far the worst of all.

I woke to the sound of a heavy door slamming shut, and I was instantly awake. I scrambled to my knees, to weak to get to my feet, and my eyes searched desperately for a door, but I was disappointed to see nothing. The darkness seemed to increase, the skylight going dark until there was nothing but shadow. But my senses managed to pick up on a flash of quick movement, and I cowered against the wall, hugging my knees to my chest.

It did nothing though. My hair was yanked roughly and I was harshly hauled to my feet, where my filthy tank top was ripped from my shuddering body. I cried out at the removal of the fabric and I tried my best to back away, but I was dragged forward. In an instant, my shorts were pulled from my waist and I was pushed angrily to my knees. My captor slapped my jaw until it slackened, and the sound of a zipper opening filled my ears, sending waves of terror through my shaking body.

I was violated many times during my imprisonment, but never once, thankfully, was I fully take advantage of. I don't know how exactly, but anytime they neared my entrance, adrenaline surged though my veins, and I pulled away or fought back roughly until I was free. Then I would be hit so hard I would instantly fall unconscious.

Notes

ugh, why am I so evil? Seriously, I think I need an intervention, because you guys have been patiently waiting for Court and Andy's reunion for basically the whole second story. I just, i just *leaves*