Red Paint

I woke from a dream? Yes, of course it was a dream. I carefully lifted myself up onto my aching arms. My eyes . . . I only saw red. Everything; red. I muttered my distaste and annoyance, and almost let out a small laugh. Red stained the whole of my bed; there were drops upon my floor, and all over my own body. I don't remember how any of these small red lines came to my body. Small but deep. That's what the cuts were. They stung, madly, like teeth, that were constantly ripping at my skin. It was strange. My mind had gone blank.

I sighed. I sat up, after what seemed like hours of trying to get my body to work, and carefully dropped my pale, slender legs over the side of the bed, ready to stand. As soon as put my weight upon my feet my legs stung and my head felt light. I growled and sat back down.

After several attempts I managed to get up and take a few steps, but then I fell to my knees. I looked down at myself. 'What's wrong?' I raised my head to look at the door. It seemed to be boasting at the fact that I couldn't reach it. It seemed a lot bigger than usual; maybe it just because I now had to crawl, slowly.
"Why are you out of bed ..." His voice softened "..My love?"

I stuttered, searching my mind for the answer he wanted, I found nothing springing to my mind and so eventually gave up on answering. He knelt down beside me and held my head to his, showing me the anger shining in his eyes.

"I asked you a question, pet! " He growled.

"I … I wanted to …to see you "I said, trying not to show fear in my voice. My hands began to shake; I dug my nails into my palms to try and make it stop.
There were marks, deep mark, upon my palms. I wondered how they had gotten there. The longer I thought about it, the more it became a mystery to me. I sighed, and lay myself against the white door, which I had finally reached. I breathed heavily from my efforts, and was shaking, slightly.

'Now to open the door' I thought, with a grimace on my face. 'mmm…' I reached for the handle. The seconds that it took seemed like years. I placed my hand upon the handle when it moved! Moved by it's self. It hit me . . . psychically and mentally.
The door came flying at me, as someone opened it from the other side. I was pushed against the wall, and the wind had been knocked from my chest.
" Master. . I . ." I breathed, and stopped talking.
"Don't lie!" He slapped me across the face. I yelped, in pain, and moved backward slightly. He took my hand and pulled me back over to the stained bed.
His voice became a soft whisper. I shivered as he placed his lips right next to my ear.

"You have to stay in bed, my love, or you will not get any better" He paused and breathed heavily "…will you?"
"No, sir" I shook my head to reinforce my answer. He kissed my neck, softly.
"There's a good girl" He said, and laughed to himself.
He came in with that look in his eye. His brow slightly furrowed and his hair hung over his face. The glint in his eyes could still be seen behind the shadows. I wanted to cry out, but knew if I did he would punish me. I sat against the wall, trying to get my breath back, while he stood staring straight at me. His eye travelled down my body, taking in every bit of my anatomy and memorising it. I became self-conscious and looked down at the floor instead of at his knees.
Then I noticed something in his hand . . . something that was silver; shining in the harsh light; sharp; red . . . in places.