"Someone will come save me," Mimi said desperately, eyes on the ground, hair stringy and grungy. Her words were hopeful but her voice lacked the confidence to execute them properly.
"Shut up," he said irritably, looking down at her with contempt. "I don't wish to listen to your voice."
"Someone will come," she said again, daring to glance up, a look of hard hatred etched in her eyes.
His lip curled. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? That one of your ... 'friends' will notice your absence and come to save the day. That they actually care enough about your pathetic existence to try and spare it."
She took a breath and willed herself not to cry, not to show the slightest bit of weakness... because when she starting showing signs of weakness, he would win. And he couldn't win. She had to beat him -- she had to get out.
"Someone will come," she repeated, though with every passing day she began to believe it less.
"If they haven't yet, what makes you think they will? You're a stupid girl," he told her with a small bark of a laugh, his voice many sick shades of amusement. The things he could do to this girl... he could damage her, kill her even by sending her off to one of his minions ... but he preferred his. He preferred to watch her wither and shake and drive herself crazy, slowly. "No one is coming."
"Someone will come," she says, and it's all she says anymore. She stops believing it somewhere along the line, but she never stops saying it. Because it's all she's got.