(Peta's point of view)

I was in and out of consciousness for a few days or maybe a few weeks. It was probably closer to a few months. I'm not really sure how long it was. It’s not like I could just sit up and look at the clock. I felt like I was in a horrible fever dream for most of it. I always felt either really really hot or really really cold. There was no in between. I just kept feeling like I was on fire and then it would change to feeling like my blood was frozen. I could hear people walking around, talking, checking on me, but I was too weak to open my eyes and figure out what was happening. Everything hurts and I do mean everything. Even my bones hurt. I didn't know that was possible but I found a way.

Eventually I started to feel better so I was able to sleep for longer instead of just laying there awake and in pain. I was a little worried that eventually I'd forget how to move. I know it's a stupid fear but I was still worried about it. I've just been laying here for a long time. I've got to try and focus on something different. I’m just upsetting myself.

When I was able to sleep better everything else started to improve as well. At some point in the next while I felt and heard people moving me. I figured the hospital staff were moving me to another room or another hospital. It was a nice feeling. I got to have a different sensation other than the air conditioning above me. Which is set turned up all the way, by the way.

Eventually my fear of forgetting how to move was proved to be unfounded when I could finally wiggle my fingers. I don't even know if they were actually moving or if I just thought they were. I didn't care. I'm not gonna spoil my excitement. I've honestly never been prouder of myself than I was at that moment. That small movement alone made me really tired. I had to go back to sleep.

I'm not sure how much longer it took but I managed to get my eyes open one day. I couldn't really focus well at all or keep my eyes open for long periods of time. The lights hurt my eyes and made them burn. The protection of my eye lids didn't do much to stop the burning but beggars can't be choosers. I decided to try to move other things and wait to open them again later. When I felt better.

I spent the rest of my small energy trying to wiggle my numb, toes, and fingers. I wasn't sure if I was actually doing it until the numbness started to recede as the movement helped my blood flow and I could feel them move. Damn, look at me go! I kept wiggling my small appendages until I could actually feel them. It worked pretty well. The numbness receded from my shoulders and hips before I got tired and needed to go back to sleep.

When I woke up I was nice and warm. Someone had put blankets on me and tucked me in. I wondered if I was still in the hospital for a minute. It didn't feel like a hospital bed. It was quiet. Really quiet. Where else would I be though? It was probably a slow day or something. I could still hear the beep of a heart monitor so still being in the hospital is a pretty safe bet. I could feel someone holding my hand. Their thumb was softly rubbing the back of my hand like they were trying to reassure themself that I was still there. Their soft hand easily lulled my tired body back to sleep.

The next time I woke up I felt so much better. My body wasn't numb anymore. I could move and open my eyes. Weakly but I could. My pain was reduced to a low ache for the most part. If I moved too fast it flared up. It took me an almost embarrassing amount of time to sit up and I had to use the headboard of the bed for support but I made it. By the time I got sat up my eyes adjusted to being open again so I could finally look around……

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Are you fucking kidding me?! It was like a horrible fever dream. I'm in bed back in “my” room in Finch’s house. The house she dragged me to after she bought me with daddy’s money. I better have been so damn expensive. I hope it hurt when they swiped their credit card for me. If I wasn't in this much pain I would have thought her brother and being stuck in a glorified box was a fever dream. I'm kinda glad it’s not. That would be alot of power and trauma to give to a mere fever dream. I went to pull away from the bed and get up. I knew I didn't have the strength to stand but I guess I wanted to visit the nice cold floor for a while. I felt something pull on my neck every time I tried to move too far away from the head board. I only had maybe four feet of give. It took a while to process what it was because she wouldn't. Right? After all of that trauma and pain and lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of human contact, lack of everything for so long. She wouldn't. Would she?

I tried to pull away again. And again. And again. And again. But I just kept feeling that pulling sensation around my neck. It was familiar. I knew what it was. I just didn't think she'd do it. I reached up to feel it and I was right. Around my neck was a thick uncomfortable leather collar with an attached leash securely anchored into the headboard. It was probably one that she had lying around from when I first got taken here. I tried to pull on it. I tried everything but I just kept getting more and more worked up and frantic and it wouldn't come off. I was still super tired. I didn't sleep well when I was asleep and I was just upset. I had been stuck in a glorified box for who knows how long and I finally got out to go right back to being trapped again. I needed it off! I needed it off! I need it off right now! Now! No words can describe how horribly feral I was in these moments. I can't even form the words to tell you anything about how this felt. I started clawing at the collar. The skin around it didn't matter. I could shred it for all I care. My nails were unkept ,I can't remember the last time I trimmed them, so they were long and sharp.

I couldn't feel my nails scratching me. I was just a bundle of animal instincts. I was completely focused on trying to get that damned thing off. I could feel blood drip down my hands and I had to put more force behind my scratching to get through the blood and to the piece of leather. I don't know if I made some noise or if it was just time for me to be checked on but I could faintly hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I was starting to run out of everything. The collar was still pristine and untouched aside from the blood stains. I couldn't say the same about my neck. I kept slowing down until I was forced to stop. I couldn't move my hands anymore. I was out of breath and coming back in and out of consciousness again. My body ached as I slumped against the wall defeated. I felt so bad.

The footsteps got closer and closer. I could tell they were Finch’s just by hearing them. They sounded slower. More fragile than I remembered. That sounded like her problem. I was so pissed at her right now. She opened the door and just stood in the doorway looking at me. She looked bad. Almost as bad as I do really. She had bandages in places like her arms and head. And bruises on her left eye and pretty much everywhere else. She looked like she had been awake the whole time I'd been asleep. Her eyes were glazed over and she was curled in one herself leaning against the wall for support. She slowly blinked and stared at me for a while before she caught up that I was bleeding.

Her eyes got wide and she looked awake in seconds, “I’ll get the first aid kit!” She ran into the bathroom and came back a few seconds later with the biggest first aid kit I've ever seen. After finding the stuff she needed she kept trying to gently tilt my head so she could get to the wounds.

“Finch. Get-”

“Hold on, I'm almost done cleaning this one.”

“Finch.”

“Tilt your head.”

“Finch.”

“Hold still.”

“Finch!”

“This ones still bleeding.”

“Finch.”

“What happened? Was it a nightmare? The meds?”

“FINCH! Get ths fucking dog collar off of me! Now! What is wrong with you?!” I started pulling at it for the second time. I was re-pissed all over again. I was kicking, screaming, cussing, pulling, scratching, biting. The whole nine yards. I don't know how I was even moving. I was in such a bad condition. I was just writhing around in rage. Any wounds that had stopped bleeding had started up again. I re-injured pretty much everything with my very justified tantrum. I felt so bad physically and mentally I almost threw up.

Finch somehow managed to get the collar off. It was impressive really. With all of my writhing around. I felt it slide off my neck and get thrown across the room before I got all dizzy and nauseous again. My body reverted back to square one and I was back out again.

I had a better grasp of reality this time. It was a really nice change of pace. I missed it. I woke up screaming but hey 1 out of 2 I guess. I shot up screaming sometime in the am time. I was clutching my chest and everything. It was very dramatic. Finch was in the room before I was fully sat up. It looked like she slept in the hallway near the door. She looked just as bad as before. Half dead, covered in bruises, the whole bit. I stared down at the blanket that was on me. It used to be a quilt. I guess I ruined it with all the blood. I hope it wasn't made by a sweet grandma lady. Finch walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. By the way she looked I didn't think she'd make it that far. I was willing to bet she would collapse onto the floor. We just sat there looking at the blanket for a while. “What happened to the other blanket?” My voice barely carried any weight but she still heard it. “It has too much blood on it.” “Did you throw it away?” The blanket was the least of my problems right now but I was still upset about it. It was my favorite. “No. I couldn't. It's your favorite. I spent most of the night washing it.” “Did you get it clean?” “It's not the same. I had to bleach it.” “Oh.” I still wanted that blanket. I've always had a hard time letting go of things. “I'm sorry.” There was so much to be sorry for I couldn't even tell what Finch was apologizing for. She reached a shaky hand up to blush against my neck but stopped before she made contact. “Oh.”...... “Why did you?....... Why did you do that to me?” She flinched at my question but she still opened her mouth to reply. “I - I just. You looked so bad. So so bad. So dead when I found you…..” Her voice cracked and she looked back down. “I thought you were dead when I found you. I thought you were dead. You looked dead. I know what death looks like.” She stopped, her eyes were far away. Reliving something I was fortunate enough to sleep through. “I woke up everyday thinking this was going to be the horrible day your heart gave out. When the doctors would tell me. When you would never wake up. I - You looked dead for so long. When you were finally cleared to be moved I took you home that day. I wanted to always be there. I wasn't going to leave for a second. The hospital wouldn't let me always be there. I watched you slowly come back to life.” She paused and just broke down. Her sobs shook her fragile body. She had to fight to get enough air into her lungs to keep going. She was hugging herself and rocking back and forth. “They couldn't find him. T-they couldn't. Couldn't. Find him. He woke up before anyone could get to him and he ran and I panicked and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I needed to know he couldn't take you again. I couldn't think of anything else. He doesn't have the combination to the collars. I couldn't.” She was sobbing so hard. She was shaking so hard. She was hyperventilating so badly. “Hey! Hey. Hey. Hey. You're ok. It's ok. You explained why. That makes sense to me. You've gotta try to get calmed down ok?” I pulled her into me and held her. We clung to each other as we tried to get calmed down. We couldn't make our bodies let go if we tried. It took hours. Once I was sure she was breathing ok we just stayed like that. Any strength we had was spent clinging to each other. Both my hands had a death grip in her hair but she didn't care. She was clinging just as hard to my entire body. She was wrapped around me like a snake. We fell asleep just like that. It was the safest sleep we've had since this whole mess started.