Day 5--Helpless

Sometimes he brought her a bedpan to relieve herself. But sometimes not. “My god is an arbitrary god,” she exclaimed, exhaustedly but thoroughly enraptured. Still, it was easier than trying to figure out what to do herself.

“You cannot understand all the years of feminism that people have worked on for you to give me this freedom. Your weakness is astounding.” She thought little of it. “When will you beat me? When do I get treated as I deserve? I am in love with your power.” He looked at her with sad eyes.

Most days she would not move from the bed. He was grossly inconvenienced that he had to prepare her meals. “Learn some independence, slut.” She looked at him, wide-eyed, and understanding his words little. “Um, can I put on my Hitler costume while doing it?” She giggled nervously. “Put on whatever you want,” he growled. “Just stop wasting my goddamn time.”

She loved weak female characters, like the lady in those old melodramas who got tied to the railroad tracks. The swooning lady who could not contain herself. She tightlaced her corset every day. From an awful car accident, she had ended up with a prosthetic nose and a small amount of her ear cartilage missing. The accident certainly hadn’t made her excited to heal. She loved how it had forced her to be helpless. She hoped that one day he would not ask and just have his way with her. She wished for rape, violence, bloodletting, but for some reason she never hoped for death. Death was the final threshold. She did constantly beg to be strangled, though. Maybe in some slim hope that it would change things or maybe she would finally have that aneurysm. She had been slightly disappointed that she hadn’t gotten more prosthetics attached after the accident. But that would lend her too much strength. She just wanted a caretaker. Life had left her helpless.