Author's Note: I decided to add another chapter while I was online. We get a sneak peek at Daryl in this chapter! So yay!

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

If you would've asked me what the scariest part of my journey had been so far, I would've told you the moment that he put me into his car.

But since we've been at his house here in the middle of nowhere? I couldn't even begin to explain the scariest part because so much happened within the first two days I have been here.

Once we waltzed into the front door of his home it seemed like a switch had been flipped inside his head. I don't know if it was because he was comfortable with where we were or if he had soundproof walls. But regardless of those things, he started yelling as soon as we walked inside.

"Get upstairs and wait for me. First door on the right." he said leaving me no option to look at my surroundings or get a sense of where we were. "Now!" he yelled.

I ran like my life depended on it and in retrospect, it probably did. He had already warned me if I didn't do what he wanted, he could end me and find a replacement. That he would punish me until I couldn't stand up right. I didn't want to be punished.

So again, I ran to the room and stood at the center of it, unsure of what to do.

A few minutes later, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and my resolve crumbled. I became a blubbering mess.

"P-Please don't hurt me..." I begged him between sobs.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to love you, Beth. You know what love is, right?" he asked as I nodded. "You don't hurt someone you love. Love might sting a little but it never hurts."

"What are you gonna do..?" I asked while trying to look him straight in the eyes like he likes although all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die.

He didn't bother to reply and as he walked closer to the bed, staring at it with a peculiar look in his eyes, I fought the urge to run away and escape his clutches.

Pointing to the bed and only saying 'sit,' he pulled the thick covers back and prompted me to lie down. I obliged slowly and when I finally lay down, he sat beside me and started to unbutton my pajama top. I started to fight him as he did it but when he raised his hand as if to strike me, I stopped immediately; frozen in place.

What happened next was a nightmare and no matter how many times I opened/closed my eyes, it didn't change what he had done to me. He left almost immediately after he buttoned his pants back into place while I lay there in a sobbing mess.

I tried in vain to clean myself in the bathroom as I cried but even if I had gotten the tinge of blood cleaned off from between my legs, I still felt dirty. Used. I didn't understand what he had done to me but I knew that it was bad and that it hurt worse than anything I ever felt. Every time I cringed away from him or tried to get up, he'd smack me wherever his hand would be at the time. My butt, side, stomach and face especially were the most damaged places. I could see welts and bruises forming on my body from where he held me in place.

I was still in the shower when he emerged with a plate of food. Again, he didn't stay long and wouldn't look at me. It was a drastic change from the person I traveled on the road with. This person was more distant, cold and calculating.

Getting out of the shower was another hard thing to do. My legs felt like jello and it was hard to bring my legs over the tall tub. I guess it wasn't made for an 11 year old. It had weird holes all around on the inside and I spied a little button near the middle. I didn't want to know what that was all about so I put a stop to those thoughts before they could take root inside my head.

I walked to the bed to find a plate of toast, eggs, and orange juice. It looked a lot better than the plain salad I had earlier so I dug in almost immediately.

After eating my food, I sat at a bench that allowed me to look out through the window at the neighborhood and for a moment, I felt a sense of normalcy in the action. I would do this all the time at home while doing my homework. I spied a few squirrels running up and down trees, trying to catch each other playfully. I should be out there playing, riding a bike, all kinds of things that children do. But it wasn't meant to be, I guess.

Staring into oblivion, I started daydreaming when I was promptly spooked by the barking of a dog. I ventured a person walking along the dirt road that led to our house. He wasn't coming my way, I realized sadly but was going towards the thick forest that surrounded everything, with a crossbow strapped over his back. For a moment, I hated him. Envied him. Wished I were in his shoes with no worries and not having to worry about a crazy person that had me trapped.

As if he could sense my stare, he looked up towards my window and spotted me. He didn't wave or smile, but scowled in my direction with a judging glare. His glance both scared and excited me at the same time. When he didn't get a reaction from me, he cocked his head to the side and sent me a wondering glance, as if trying to read me. Seeming to give up on whatever he was trying to figure out, he beckoned the scraggly dog to follow him into the woods and they were gone. Out of my sight. My hope began to crumble slowly, fearing that no one could help me. And certainly not the strange man I just saw who looked as if he could break me with just one word.

How I wished I could experience the freedom that he surely experienced every day out in those woods.