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Authors: Tiana Laveen
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Master Stewart kicked John in the eye, rendering him stunned. Master Stewart quickly got to his feet and grabbed the gun. He went back over to his son and laid his knee on his chest. In a calmer tone he spoke again. “You can’t resist her. I see you have no control over these desires. It’s not your fault,” he said, out of breath. Master Stewart stared into his son’s eyes, one of which was half-closed. John spit in his face. Master Stewart slowly stood to his feet, still gripping the gun with a shaky hand.
“Get up!” he yelled while wiping the thick trail of saliva off his nose and upper lip. John rubbed his chest and closed his eyes before standing. He looked over at Hannah who was coiled in a fetal position in her mother’s arms. His vision was blurred out of one eye. He struggled to focus.
“Mary, I’m not going to fight with you. You let go of that girl or someone’s going to get hurt, and it won’t be me,” Master Stewart panted as he walked towards her, keeping his gun raised in his son’s direction. Mary let go of Hannah’s arm, casting a look of hatred towards Master Stewart. Master Stewart pulled at Hannah. She clung to her mother’s gown, looking up at her, sobbing deeply.
“No, please don’t,” she woefully begged. Master Stewart uncurled her fingers, hoisted her by the waist, and headed toward the door while continuing to point the gun at his son. He made his way to an adjacent storage room. He opened the splintered, squeaky door and ushered Hannah inside.
“Go to sleep Hannah,” Master Stewart said coolly. “You’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring you breakfast myself in the morning.” He closed the door and locked it. He returned to John and marched him down the hall to another room at gunpoint.
“Get in there. If I don’t lock you away, you’ll find some way to derail everything. I’ll let you out after she’s long gone. When I do release you, be prepared to discuss how you’re going to rectify this situation with Gayle. I’ll let her know that you won’t be home for a while.” He closed the door and locked it. John stood in the middle of the dark, dusty room. There were no windows. He was trapped. He could faintly hear Hannah’s sobs which only served to fuel his anxiety. He felt as though he was having a heart attack.
“Hannah!” John screamed before falling to his knees. “Hannah, I love you! I promised you I’d take care of you. I will! Please – please don’t cry.” John wiped tears from his own cheeks, burying his head against the floor boards as his chest heaved with emotional pain. Hannah’s sobbing finally ceased as she succumbed to sleep.
* * *
CHAPTER 8
John wearily opened his eyes. His left eye was swollen, but the double vision was gone. Suddenly the door swung open. The light blinded John who’d been locked away without food or water for three days. His father stood silently, looking at his son. Master Stewart slowly entered the room, the sound of his boots drawing closer and closer until he finally reached his dazed son. He gently hoisted John onto his feet. Without speaking a word, he led him from the stale, empty room into the corridor, down the winding steps, and into the empty kitchen. John rubbed his eyes and looked around as he slumped in a chair. He realized it hadn’t been an awful nightmare after all. He called out, “Hannah!” and raced back up the stairs. The door to the room she’d been in was wide open. He stood in the doorway and stared into the empty space. He saw her plate and cup, still full of water and days-old beans she hadn’t touched. He slowly backed away from the door and returned to the kitchen where his father patiently awaited.
“You’re the Devil. You’re Satan incarnate. You took Hannah away from me. I despise you.”
“You, John, are like a wild horse. You have to be broken. I regret that those are your sentiments about me. Nevertheless, tell me how you’re
“Get up!” he yelled while wiping the thick trail of saliva off his nose and upper lip. John rubbed his chest and closed his eyes before standing. He looked over at Hannah who was coiled in a fetal position in her mother’s arms. His vision was blurred out of one eye. He struggled to focus.
“Mary, I’m not going to fight with you. You let go of that girl or someone’s going to get hurt, and it won’t be me,” Master Stewart panted as he walked towards her, keeping his gun raised in his son’s direction. Mary let go of Hannah’s arm, casting a look of hatred towards Master Stewart. Master Stewart pulled at Hannah. She clung to her mother’s gown, looking up at her, sobbing deeply.
“No, please don’t,” she woefully begged. Master Stewart uncurled her fingers, hoisted her by the waist, and headed toward the door while continuing to point the gun at his son. He made his way to an adjacent storage room. He opened the splintered, squeaky door and ushered Hannah inside.
“Go to sleep Hannah,” Master Stewart said coolly. “You’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring you breakfast myself in the morning.” He closed the door and locked it. He returned to John and marched him down the hall to another room at gunpoint.
“Get in there. If I don’t lock you away, you’ll find some way to derail everything. I’ll let you out after she’s long gone. When I do release you, be prepared to discuss how you’re going to rectify this situation with Gayle. I’ll let her know that you won’t be home for a while.” He closed the door and locked it. John stood in the middle of the dark, dusty room. There were no windows. He was trapped. He could faintly hear Hannah’s sobs which only served to fuel his anxiety. He felt as though he was having a heart attack.
“Hannah!” John screamed before falling to his knees. “Hannah, I love you! I promised you I’d take care of you. I will! Please – please don’t cry.” John wiped tears from his own cheeks, burying his head against the floor boards as his chest heaved with emotional pain. Hannah’s sobbing finally ceased as she succumbed to sleep.
* * *
CHAPTER 8
John wearily opened his eyes. His left eye was swollen, but the double vision was gone. Suddenly the door swung open. The light blinded John who’d been locked away without food or water for three days. His father stood silently, looking at his son. Master Stewart slowly entered the room, the sound of his boots drawing closer and closer until he finally reached his dazed son. He gently hoisted John onto his feet. Without speaking a word, he led him from the stale, empty room into the corridor, down the winding steps, and into the empty kitchen. John rubbed his eyes and looked around as he slumped in a chair. He realized it hadn’t been an awful nightmare after all. He called out, “Hannah!” and raced back up the stairs. The door to the room she’d been in was wide open. He stood in the doorway and stared into the empty space. He saw her plate and cup, still full of water and days-old beans she hadn’t touched. He slowly backed away from the door and returned to the kitchen where his father patiently awaited.
“You’re the Devil. You’re Satan incarnate. You took Hannah away from me. I despise you.”
“You, John, are like a wild horse. You have to be broken. I regret that those are your sentiments about me. Nevertheless, tell me how you’re
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