Chapter 1 - AbuseNaomi
A small town in the state of Oregon were hoping for the warm rays of the summer sun today. It was what the morning news forecasted, after all. But even so, the warm rays meant nothing to Naomi. She was never allowed out, after all. It was close to Summer, and therefore approaching the end of the Spring weather. Naomi sat on the sill by the wall where a window used to be. The Master of the house had bordered the window with a large piece of square wood, so nothing that was happening inside could be seen by passers-by outside. She started to hear something tapping against the window. Rain drops. It never rained enough to cause any damage, however. It was just like when you turn on the shower at first; not a lot of water drops out.
Footsteps soon emerged near her door, and her body began to shake. There was only one other being in her house.
He always caused great pain to her, either physically, or sexually. But it always ended with her in tears. She longed for the day she would finally be free, but it seemed like it would never come. Unless she did something to change her fate, it would always be like this.
The door opened, and in walked a man. He held something in his hand. Was it a rope? Naomi looked closer.
'A whip,' she thought. 'He's going to beat me again.' Naomi sunk onto one knee, bowing before her Master. It was mandatory for her to.
The Master looked around her room, before glaring back at her. "What are you hiding in here?"
"Nothing," Naomi answered.
He rose his hand, and slapped Naomi on her cheek. "Don't lie to me, Naomi!"
"I swear, I'm hiding nothing, Master."
Naomi pivoted on her knee, so she was facing the wall. She knew what was coming as she was asked to take her shirt off. The Master took a few steps back, releasing the whip from its trapped circle. Naomi squinted her eyes shut, waiting quietly. Inside, she was crying. Panicking. Wishing she was somewhere, anywhere else but here.
And then she felt it.
The whip violently swung across her bare back, and she tried not to scream in pain. But the master wouldn't stop. He kept lashing at Naomi in his merciless manner.
The Master's footsteps finally left Naomi's room, leaving her to cry on her bed.
But she didn't know how. Instead, she continued to sob into her pillow, letting her tears flow onto her bed.
Naomi was soon dressed in her slave outfit. She walked out of her room, and into the kitchen, where her Master was sat at the table.
He wanted her to cook breakfast for him, and him only. Why only him? She was never allowed to eat at the table. She only ever got a slice of bread and a glass of water per week. One slice of bread to last her a week. Once the slice was gone, she was not allowed anything else until the following Monday.
And the icing on the cake? If she messed up the tiniest thing, she would go for two weeks without food or water, and would be given another beating.
She started to cook the breakfast she knew he liked - all day breakfast. Naomi's mother, Emera, was born in Britain, and always enjoyed this on a morning. When she divorced with Naomi's father, Peter, she moved to America, and met Naomi's Master, Aaron. She introduced him to the dish one morning, and he adored it. He would always smile when she served it to him, and kiss her on the cheek.
But when Naomi served it, she would get a glare, as he started eating. No kiss on the cheek, not even a thank you. It showed how much Aaron hated Naomi, which she could tell when she was first introduced to him.
Nevertheless, Naomi finishes cooking, and serves up the breakfast, waiting at a side. Aaron took one bite out of the sausage, and put it back down. He then stood up.
"On second thought, I'm not hungry. Throw this in the bin."
He had just made her cook for ages, with an aching back from yesterday, and for him to do that to her...
She HAD to get out.
She didn't care where.
She only knew that she needed to find somewhere else to stay.
She was going to get her freedom.