’‘I like talking to him. It’s actually a pleasure. He’s like... the only person who it’s actually a pleasure to talk to. He’s always happy...’ She’s still talking slowly and avoiding any eye contact. ‘He’s so laid back and chilled out. He’s funny. He makes me laugh. He… ‘ she pauses for a few seconds ‘...understands me.’ Suddenly it feels like I am in the wrong movie or something. I can’t believe this conversation is even happening. I’m silent. Shocked. It feels like my stomach is stuck in my. Her face had been a bright red, crimson like the color of her own arse cheeks, which had been punished the night before. Emily’s stomach began to rumble, she had not eaten for several days, and she did not know whether it was hunger or repulsion, which caused the noise. A loud crackle came over a speaker. “Eat” it croaked, before cutting out. Emily began to swallow the pieces; her body began trying reject the intruder. She knew better than to vomit, vomiting meant punishment, vomiting. More

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