Every morning I wake in fear, certain he's here to hurt me again. But I am alone. Sometimes Travis is here bringing my food, sometimes not. I haven't seen Master since the day he beat me. I know I should be grateful, but all I can do is worry about when he will come back. It's amazing what food does to a person's outlook on life. Travis brought me the strangest breakfast yet—cinnamon toast with butter, and a pickle. It should have been disgusting. But for the first time in days, I was able to eat and keep it down. Maybe I'm getting a little better. Or maybe it's just another sign of the reality I am trying to ignore. Day 22: Today I got a bagel. With cream cheese. An apple. Oh, heaven. I never knew food could create such a feeling of euphoria. I feel like I've pulled my head above water and I can breathe. It's stupid, because I'm still here in the dark. But the pain in my stomach is a little less, and I can breathe again. Jenny doesn't come help me with my wounds anymore. I guess they're satisfied I'm not going to get an infection and die. Travis gave me a blanket today. It was the first time he's spoken to me since the beating, except to give orders. He told me to hide the blanket during the day. Jenny's baby has been crying a lot. Last night I'm not sure she ever stopped. Maybe she's sick. Please God don't let Jenny's baby die. I don't think she could handle it. She tries, I know she wants to live, but she looks so weary. I don't know how much more she can take.
