Sunshine
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."
You wake to his grating voice, singing as always. You flinch when a finger caresses your cheek. It is almost gentle that touch, but you know better. Those scars aren't there by accident. The smells of spoiled milk and rotten meat reach you when he leans over you.
"Sunshine, are you awake?"
You refuse to answer, keeping your eyes closed. The fingers are now cold claws that cut your cheek.
"Answer me," he growls out menacingly.
Afraid, you open your eyes. "I-I am awake."
He grins. Or at least, you think he does. He leans closer, his shirt brushing against you, and licks away the blood he has shed. He doesn't want his toy dirtied.
Ah, yes.
You are his playmate, his personal doll.
His toy.
And he will never let you go. In fact, if he can't have you, nobody else can. That's the rule. He made it very clear. Now that you’re alone, you allow yourself to shudder. Blood is still dripping steadily from the jagged cut but your mind is elsewhere. You remember the first and only time you tried to escape. Your punishment was... there really wasn't a word for it. Cruel couldn’t begin to cover it in your mind.
When he steps back inside your windowless room, you are still shaking. Now he is bent over you again, lapping at your blood greedily, whimpers of satisfaction here and there. Outwardly, you are still as a statue, emotionless but inside you are screeching. You want him away from you and dead. Oh yes, definitely dead. You used to think he was some kind of lost soul. You met him when you were small, in the woods. You weren't scared back then, just curious. He was sad and you wanted to know why. He wanted a friend and you gave him exactly that.
He straightens back up, apparently satisfied by your blood, and smiles. You have come to fear it when he smiles.
"We are going out today. I must wash you. I will go get clothing for you."
He leaves once again. Immediately, you push yourself up with difficulty. Dizziness slams down on you and the world tilts sideways. Determined, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and feel the cold floor. Nausea is now rising but you fight it back long enough to stand. You seem fine; the world is straight so you attempt a step forward. You sway a little but remain upright. You have one goal in mind: burn this sucker down. You've never understood his love of old fashioned oil lamps but you currently welcome it. A sweep of your arm sends it flying and flames erupt. You've never loved this wooden shack so much. He runs back in, angry, and lunges for you. You notice that he left his claws close by. You grab them and swing them in front of you. His agonized screams follow you as you run out and as far as possible.
Before you disappear, you want to visit your young sibling one last time.
Trailing clawed fingers along their window, you whisper: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."
