Chapter 281 - Apple! Banana!

Xiao Lei started to tell her son a story from the past.

"A long, long time ago..." 

....

In a room that was completely dark, so dark that one could not even see their own fingers, a soft child-like voice sounded. It was so soft that one could barely hear what the child-like voice was saying. And it seemed that with each word that was spoken, a soft tapping sound could be heard. 

Tap!

"Apple."

Tap!

"Banana."

Tap!

"Carrot."

And it kept going, as if the person speaking was saying the names of the fruits in alphabetical order. Once the person reached Z, there was a soft child-like giggle. 

"Good job, kid," the voice said in the same soft child-like voice. "You're such a good kid." 

There were soft pitter-patter sound, as if the person was walking on tiptoes. 

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5." 

There was some rustle, like the sound one made while changing the bedsheet. 

Suddenly, the sound of a door being pushed open could be heard. The light from outside slowly lighted up the room. Before the door was fully pushed open, a loud rustling sound could be heard, as if the person who was speaking earlier was moving again. 

When the door was fully pushed open, a middle-aged man with a potbelly and was wearing a suit walked in. When he saw the empty, unmade bed, he looked around the room before saying in a teasing voice, "Kid, where are you?" 

He slowly walked into the room, touching everything inside. From the pink bed to the pink table, from the decorations on the fall to the books on the shelves, everything suggested that the owner of this room was a young child, and most probably a young girl. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, kid... Let's just play our game," the middle-aged man said softly as he walked to the small closet and opened it. When he didn't find who he was looking for, he smirked. "Kid, if you don't come out now, I'd have to punish you. You don't want that, do you?" 

He sighed as he shook his head. The kid always played hide-and-seek with him, yet there were only so many places that he could hide in. The man slowly walked to the desk, and when he bent down, he chuckled and said, "Gotcha!" 

When he did not find anything, he frowned, upset that he was wrong two out of three times. He then walked toward the bed. 

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The sound of his slow footsteps caused the kid who was hiding beneath the bed to shiver slightly. The kid had closed their eyes as they tried to pretend that no one could see them as long as they did not open their eyes. 

"I'm good, I'm good," the kid whispered under their breath. 

The man stopped right next to the bed and tapped the metal frame. "Enough, kid. Come out now. I know you're beneath the bed. It's only going to get worse the longer you try to delay this."

Upon hearing the man's threat, the kid sighed and slowly climbed out from under the bed, accidentally pulling a few strands of hair out. The kid got out and stood in front of the man while trembling slightly. 

The man smiled when he saw the kid, who was dressed in a pink nightgown and had slightly messy hair. The man then said, "Go pick up the comb." 

The kid nodded and went to the desk. Once the kid picked up the comb, they went back to stand in front of the man before handing the comb over. 

"Turn over now," the man said. 

The kid did as what they were told. 

The man then slowly combed the kid's waist-length hair. As he combed, he said softly, "You always tried to hide, but you never learn that you can't hide from me. I can always find you." 

The kid did not say anything, and there was barely any expression on his face. Once the kid's hair was neat, the man turned them over and said with a stern expression, "You're not a good kid today."

His eyes landed on the fading finger-like bruises on the kid's arms and neck. When he reached over to touch it, the kid flinched slightly before closing their eyes in fear. 

The man smiled as the kid's response to him. He loved it when people showed their fear in front of him. He touched the kid's bruises as he asked in a whispery voice, "Does it hurt?" 

The kid kept his eyes low as they shook their head. 

The man then pinched the kid's arms, right on two fading bruises. When the kid flinched, the man laughed and said, "Does it hurt now?" 

The kid still shook their head. It was never a good idea to admit to pain because it would only bring more pain. The kid had more than enough memories of being hurt over and over again and had since learned not to admit to anything.

"Good..." The man released the kid's arms and patted him on the head. "Remember, I'm your owner, and I hate weaklings the most. I also hate disobedient kids."

He took off his belt, and when the kid saw that, they shivered a little, but they did not say anything. Instead, the kid merely took off the nightgown, revealing bruises of various stages all over his body, with the worst around the kid's legs and buttocks.

"Such a beautiful art..." the man said with a content smile as he looked at the kid up and down, almost as if he were appreciating a piece of art. He cupped the kid's chin and gently caressed the kid's unblemished face as he whispered, "You're a really beautiful creation, kid..." 

The kid did not say anything, which was what the man liked. The middle-aged man had to listen to people complaining the whole day; the last thing he wanted to heart was more talking. 

As the man looked at the kid in front of him, he strapped the belt around a fist before saying with a smile, "You know the rules. Go into my room and climb onto the bed. I'll be gentle. You'll like it, I promise." 

The kid nodded and slowly walked out of the small room and into the bigger bedroom outside. 

A few hours later, the kid, bruised and battered and still completely n.a.k.e.d, slowly limped back into the room, leaving the door ajar a little because the middle-aged man liked to look over every now and then. 

When the kid walked past the body-length mirror in the room, they could see their own bruised body that was covered with welts, tear-stained face, as well as the blood that was trickling down their legs. The kid did not linger for long. They went straight to bed and lie down, in case the middle-aged man saw them again. The kid knew that, like always, the middle-aged man would come and close the door later in the night. 

The kid slept on the bed, no longer caring for anything else. They did not have any energy left to do anything else. The kid did not know how long they slept, but a loud bang outside his room woke him up. 

BAM!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The kid did not know what the sounds were, but it was really loud, and it fascinated them slightly. The middle-aged man did not like sounds, so there were barely any sounds whenever the man was in. The middle-aged man liked to hear himself talk, and whenever he was in a good mood, he would teach the kid a few words or buy the kid a new toy.

"Noise... Bad..." the kid mumbled as they got down from his bed. They put on the pink nightgown that was discarded earlier before limping to the door. The noise was faint, but given that the kid had been living in the dark with minimum noise for as long as they could remember, their hearing was quite good. 

The kid could faintly hear the middle-aged man's voice. 

"Who are you?! Who the f.u.c.k are you?! I'm the Vice President of this country! You'd be punished--"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The loud bang was followed by the man's loud, piercing scream, which caused the kid to shout out of reflex as well. 

"AHHHHH!!!"

The kid immediately closed their mouth with both hands before limping to hide in the closet again.