I wasn't exactly sure how long it had been. Maybe a week or two? Our routine was the exact same every day. Bubba visited me sometime in the afternoon and we worked for an hour or so before he went back to wherever he came from in the first place. He was making decent progress, I was able to understand him better with the simple sentences he's already learned to sign.

A low roar echoed out from my stomach reminding me that I hadn't had a full meal in days. Hunger gnawed at my insides, burning like someone had lit my belly on fire. Clutching myself, I curled into a ball and waited until the wave of nausea passed. I only hopeed Bubba wasn't too much longer. Every now and then he'd bring me something to eat like a stale piece of bread and a cup of water. It's wasn't much, nor was it very appetising, but it was better than nothing and at that point, I could've eaten just about anything.

Lazily sprawled out in the bed of hay that covering the floor, I stared up at the ceiling. Tiny beams of sunlight trickled in from holes in the roof and bounced across my fingers as I danced them in and out of the golden rays. Sometimes at night, when the moon was bright, I almost felt like I was looking up at the stars.

Once again, that same familiar creak of the barn door opening filled my ears followed by shuffling footsteps moving across the floorboards. 'Finally!' I had thought to myself. 'That must be Bubba ready for his daily lesson.'

The bright flash of white light and whirring hiss that rang out made me nearly jump out of my skin. With a startled gasp I sprang up and caught sight of Nubbins with his hand held out awaiting the polaroid camera around his neck to finish spitting out a small square photo. I wasn't expecting Nubbins to be there, I hadn't even seen him since he locked me in that darn cage.

He shook the photograph for a couple of seconds to develop the picture then turning it over, he grinned from ear to ear and laughed when the subject became clear. Woah, getta load of that," He slapped the photo against the door. "Turned out real nice! It-It's a nice picture!"

"Yeah, sure..." I agreed with a nod even though from what I could see it was too blurry to make out. "Have you come to let me out of here or just take my picture?"

He said nothing and folded the photograph up, tucking it into a small brown fur pouch hanging around his neck. Nubbins was a strange character, not as menacing as his brother and yet nowhere near as normal looking his mother; he was something all his own. The sweat and dirt stained green t-shirt and khakis he donned hung loosely on his rangy frame and his shaggy brown hair hung to his shoulders in greasy tangled strands. He had an odd taste in jewelry too. I caught sight of a thin silver chain around his wrist threaded through oddly shaped pieces of...something.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my mind. A genius idea I wasn't so sure but at least I had a plan! I couldn't convince Bubba to let me out but I wonder if I could convince him to...

"Hey, uh, can I get a look at that photo again? It really was a good picture, probably the best anyone's ever taken of me."

The compliment made his face light up and he eagerly shoved his hand into his pouch and pulled the folded photo out. "They're always good. P-People pay me for ma pictures!" He pressed the photo against the fencing and I pretended to move closer to get a better look.

"I can see why! You've really got an eye for photography." I lied, and before he could have realized what I was up to, I crammed my fingers through the fencing, grabbed the corner of the photo, and snatched it out of his hand.

His smile quickly flipped into a frown. "H-Hey! No freebies! Give it back, ya thievin' b!t*h!"

"No can do! It's a photo of me that you took without my permission so I'm keeping it!"

"Last chance! Gimme tha picture an' I won't cut yer hand off fer stealin"

"But...but your mom said you're not allowed to touch me! You wouldn't disobey her, would you?" Something told me he really would do that but I had no choice, I was doing what I had to do to survive.

"Well, Ma ain't here is she?"

I had never been so ballsy in my whole life and I knew it was probably a stupid idea to gain a newfound abrasive side while being held hostage by a bunch of crazy rednecks but I had to get him to open the door one way or another. That was my plan after all, to get him to open the door and come inside the cage. Then I could somehow slip past him and make my escape.

"If you touch me I'll scream," I spit the words out, glaring angrily at him.

"And if you do I'll cut your tongue out." He pulled out an old pocket knife, displaying it before me, the sunlight glaring off the silver blade.

My heart raced so rapidly that I feared it might pop out of my chest but at that moment, it was fight or flight and I was prepared to do both.

He retrieved a key from his pocket, the same one that fit the padlock on the door. I watched in anticipation as he stuck the key in the lock and twisted it around, each click of the locks mechanisms sending waves of adrenaline through me.

When the padlock fell to the ground with a thud and the door popped open, I backed into the corner putting as much distance as I could between him and me. He took a step inside, letting the door fall closed behind him.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, holding one hand out in front of me to block whatever he was about to try and the other behind my back to keep the picture away.

He brandished his blade and I suddenly realized that my "genius" plan might not work the way I had planned.

Lunging forwards, he grabbed a hold of my hair and shoved my body against the wall. My hands balled into fists and struck at the side of his head, but he quickly overpowered me–as I should've known he would–and pinned my arms above my head. His fingers dug deeply into my wrists surly creating bruises.

My hands might've been pinned down, but my legs sure weren't; I rammed him right in the groin. A stream of curse words spilled from his lips as he toppled to his knees in front of the door, blocking my way out.

"You lil'-" he screamed, his pocket knife nothing but a blur as he sliced through the air, catching the palm of my hand in his swing.

I yelped as the cold metal cut through my skin and watched in horror as warm blood trickled down my hand. He forcefully shoved me against the wall, knocking the wind from my lungs, and I collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. I couldn't help from shaking and crying, as he loomed over my battered form. All I could do was clutch my bloody hand to my chest and plead for him to stop, even holding the stolen photo out to him in an attempt to apologize.

A deep growl emanated from somewhere in the room followed by a large hand grasping the collar of Nubbins shirt, jerking him away from me with one tug. The soft rasp of fabric tearing filled my ears as he was pulled out of the cage and thrown into the middle of the room, landing flat on his back as his much larger brother stood over him growling like some sort of rabid animal.

"What was that for?!" He shouted, staring up at his brother in shock.

Bubba surged toward him, his shoulders tense and his hands balled tightly into fists.

"Don't look at me like that, Bubs! That lil b!t©h hog's a-a thief! I was jus' takin back wh-what she stole from me." He snapped, waving the crumpled and bloody polaroid he'd ripped from my grasp amidst all the fighting.

Bubba looked over to me, his big dark eyes scanned my face and I could tell he was asking for an explanation.

Tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks as I sniveled. "Danger" I signed, blood trickling from my hand and staining onto my clothes.

Bubba growled and turned his attention back to his brother who was climbing to his feet and dusting the dirt from his patched-up tan khakis.

"What'd ya say to 'im?!" he yelled, pointing a finger in my direction, his eyes full of fire and rage.

Bubba raised his fist into the air prepared to strike at full force. That was enough to send Nubbins running right out of the barn hollering for his mother with his tail in between his legs.

He turned back to me, tilting his head to the side and taking a few cautious steps inside my cage, inching forward slowly almost as if he was afraid to come near. With each step closer he took, I scooted farther away until there was nowhere left to go. I was exhausted and all I wanted to do is sleep...and eat. I physically couldn't fight anymore, especially not someone as big as he was.

"Please, don't hurt me" I whined, my entire body shook in fear of being put through more pain.

He dropped to his knees and shook his head back and forth several times. "Safe" he signed. "You're safe."

Bubba reached out tentatively and softly grasped my wrist as if I were made of the most delicate glass and he were petrified of breaking me. Turning my hand over, he examined my bleeding palm then rising to his feet, he lifted me to stand with him. Still holding my hand in his, my blood smeared across his skin, but he didn't seem to notice or care.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he led me out of the cage and towards the door. "Where are you taking me?"

He answered me with a soft grunt and nothing more.

I followed him outside and plunged into a warm summer evening. The sun blinded my eyes and I squeezed them shut, blinking a few times before they would adjust to the daylight.

We were in a clearing surrounded by cornfields on one side and a dense expanse of woods on the other. A small shed also stood a ways off with an overgrown patch of bright luscious yellow sunflowers growing up wildly around it and nearly swallowing it whole. A two-story farmhouse stood towards the left a little off in the distance. The sun glinted off its shabby tin roof. Beside it was an old narrow dirt road just big enough for a single car to drive down. It ran off from the house and through the field leading to what I imagined was the road where Matt and I first came in contact with these people.

We walked towards the house, up the worn wooden steps and onto a large front porch with a set of quaint rocking chairs at the end of the porch. The shrubbery on the other side of the rails and around the rest of the property was overgrown and hid most of the house.

A hot wind blew through the field carrying a strange rattling sound with it. My eyes followed the noise to a cluster of strange wind chimes hanging from the beams of the porch. They looked homemade with small bones and shards of colored glass tied together by strands of twine.

Bubba pulled the screen door ahead of us open and placing his hand on the small of my back, pushed me inside. I gazed around at the narrow foyer I stood in. Faded and peeling green wallpaper lined the top half of the walls and the bottom was dark oak wainscoting. A staircase made of the same wood ran up the right side of the foyer leading to the second floor. Past the staircase to the left was a doorway. The back wall was a dark, faded, cherry red and from floor to ceiling, the prominent red wall was covered in different taxidermy animal heads and skulls–cows, deer, rams, and animals smaller than that. My blood ran cold just looking at it; menacing isn't a strong enough word to describe the vibes coming from whatever was back there.

"Bubs? That you?" The familiar woman's voice called from one of the rooms beside us.

He clutched my wrist tighter making me stick closely beside him. The mother stepped into the foyer, wiping her hands across the apron tied around her narrow waist. Her brown eyes grew wide upon seeing me in her house with her son. "What's she doin' here?" she inquired, giving Bubba a questioning look.

He shifted on his feet before raising my hand up for her to see. She eyed the bloody gash spanning my palm and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I see...well, why dontchu take 'er to yer room and clean 'er up. Dinner's gon' be ready soon."

With a tug, he pulled me toward the red doorway. I followed without resistance; not because I wanted to, but because he had a death grip on my arm. Through the doorway was a short hall with two more doorways, one on either end. I didn't have time to see what was in the room on the left but I did catch an odd odor– something sour and metallic. He nudged me into the other room which was just a narrow landing with a set of steep wooden stairs leading down into what I assumed was the basement. He went down first, gently tugging my arm as he urged me to follow him down the steps.

"And don't get blood on ma floor!" His mother called out as Bubba pulled the door closed behind us.