He loosens the ties and goes to clean himself up. I must have fought him despite the drugs. He hits me when I fight him, and I’m pretty sure my jaw is broken. Pain tears through me every time I try to move, so I lie still. The breaks are just one more way Earl makes sure I don’t run. It’s hard to sneak out of a crawl space with a broken wrist. To run with a broken ankle. Every time I’m almost healed, he breaks something else. Breaks are fine. I can endure the breaks. It’s the other things he does, the things that crush me on the inside, that make me want to die. I would have if not for Dutch’s light. I would be dead. I know it. I wish it were real. I wish she were real. She’s getting older and more beautiful with each passing day, and even though she’s a figment of my fucked-up imagination, I love her. To the very depths of my soul. Kim rushes in with a bowl of hot water and a rag. It’s our usual routine, and I try to remember what I did before she arrived. Oh, yeah. I writhed in agony and bled a lot.
