I don't know what I could have possibly done to deserve this fate.
I am to remain in this closet until Stepfather says otherwise. He hates me.
He says I deserve this punishment; I am nothing but a no-goodnik in his eyes.
Maybe he means that I am imperfect. I'm sorry; I couldn't help being born like this: with twisted, paralyzed legs. Does that make me any less of a person? I should think not!
While the rest of the family gets to interact with each other and live out their lives, I am relegated to this closet, with nothing but a 50-watt light bulb to keep me company. Oh, and the spiders. I've seen some scuttling across the walls and the floor; if there's one thing I can't stand in the least, it's spiders. And this closet is crawling with 'em: I must have seen six of 'em already.
The sight of their disgusting, fat, furry, eight-legged bodies is enough to make me want to scream; but alas, I cannot: my mouth is gagged; can't even make a sound. So I am forced to look at the spiders and pray with all my might that they don't crawl on me, or else I might wig out.
Doesn't help that I can't move out of their way at will ... not with these paralyzed lower limbs! So I am at the mercy of the spiders ... and my crazy stepfather.
Stepfather has, in addition to locking me away, done terrible things to me: touching me in my secret places, doing nasty things to me to make me feel even more worthless as a human being. If I were able to, I'd bust down the door and call the police, but what good is that gonna do? He might as well kill me; he specifically told me if I yelled or called for help, he would outright kill me. So I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I don't know why the family doesn't check on me or even ask about me. I thought stuff like this happened in only fiction books; turns out that it can happen in real life, too, as it is happening to me. And I don't like it one bit!
I wonder what Stepfather will do to me today or what he will make me do to satisfy his sick bidding. In his eyes, I cease to be human: I am nothing more than a pawn in his sick, twisted game.
~To be continued.~