Mind Games: The Obsession of Dr Lewis

Chapter 5

Daisy

I couldn't look away from his cold yet angry grey eyes. My mind flitted back to the first day I met him. He wasn't wearing his glasses this morning, but why would he? He didn't need to hide the sick monster anymore. It was all out in the open now. I closed my eyes because of the nauseating thought of my reality. He could do anything to me or simply murder me, and no one would know or care.

“I will be back to haunt you if you kill me, you sick fuck,” I whispered as I felt tears trying to leak out of my eyes against my will.

“You have two rules that will ensure my leniency. Always address me as Daddy and obey me. It’s as simple as that,” he said, sounding calm again.

I swallowed before I opened my eyes because he didn't deny the fact that he could kill me.

“Aren't doctors supposed to take some kind of an oath?” I asked as he reached for the food.

His head swivelled around, and he scowled at me.

I stared at him in confusion momentarily before remembering what he said.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I mumbled before adding in a louder voice. “Daddy.”

I cringed when I said the word.

What sort of a nasty pervert was he?

His face instantly changed to a pleased smile as he turned with the plate settled on his lap.

“I lied when I took the oath,” he said with a wink.

He didn't speak as he began to feed me bites of food. It was almost cold, but it tasted good because I had only eaten my lunch the day before. It wasn't the supermarket's own brand. The full English breakfast he provided was quality produce.

I watched him as he fed me. He wanted me soft and compliant, but I didn't know how to be either of these things. My life had rarely let me put my guard down. By the time he finished feeding me, I’d managed to depress myself with my own thoughts.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked with a smile.

I struggled to say the words but forced myself because a cup of tea sounded comforting.

“Yes please…Daddy,” I choked out.

His smile instantly widened, and his eyes flared briefly, but he turned and had a small black insulated cup in his hand.

“Take your pill with it,” he murmured as he held the mushroom pill between his fingers.

I opened my mouth, and he placed it inside before he slipped his hand beneath my neck and the base of my skull to lift me up so I could drink the tea.

“That’s my good girl,” he crooned. “You're going to be a very good girl for your Daddy.”

I didn't miss the or else insinuation in his devious eyes.

He unchained me from the bed while he changed the bedsheets and let me use the toilet. The bathroom was basic and white, with only a bar of soap, a toothbrush and toothpaste in it. My collar chain extended to the bathroom, and I wondered how many people he had kept in his basement.

I believed him when he said he lied when he made his oath. He enjoyed playing games which was not something that I was looking forward to. I rinsed myself off in the shower since I’d peed myself last night, but there were no towels, only toilet paper and paper towels for my hands.

When I walked into the bedroom, the grey bedsheets were gone, replaced by white ones. He sat on a stool beside the bed, holding a notepad and pen.

“Can I get under the covers, please, Daddy? I’m cold,” I said as I winced using that word again.

When he nodded, I let out the breath I’d held onto.

I settled under the covers and tucked them over my shoulders. He had left the heating on all night since I’d had no covers on me last night, but I’d hardly slept. I hadn't felt cold, but my mind was disturbed by the sudden events.

“Comfortable?” he asked with a gleam in his eye.

I nodded so I wouldn't need to say the word.

“Good. Now tell me about Violet and Tom,” he said while giving me a hard stare.

I lay back on the bed and fixed the covers to look at the white ceiling. The room was painted plain grey, but it wasn't unpleasant. His basement was nicer than my apartment. I closed my eyes because I knew he wouldn't stop hounding me unless I told him. I couldn’t walk away from him like I did with my past therapists.

“Violet was my Mum...a long time ago. It was always us, except for the odd boyfriend here and there. I think she was a good mother initially, but she changed over time,” I said, mulling it all over as I went along.

The only thing I shared with my mum was our hair colour. I don't know who I took after because I didn't know who my dad was.

“What’s your earliest memory of her?” he asked, causing me to open my eyes.

“I was three or four, and she was angry that I scratched one of her CDs. I was scared because she was shouting, and I felt bad about what I did,” I said flatly. “My mum was strict and not a very affectionate person.”

She coped with stress as well as I did. She found affection for my half-brother.

“What age were you when you met Tom?”

I kept my eyes focused on the ceiling. I have no idea how he found out about my incubator or her partner, but this is why I never mentioned them in therapy. Had I managed my emotions and actions better, I wouldn't have been locked up in a madman’s basement.

“I was five. He came to our house for dinner. We played with my dolls together. I thought he was another of my Mum’s fleeting fancies, but Tom stuck around.”

“Did you ever want to call him Dad or Daddy?”

“Probably when I was about six or seven, but I got used to calling him Tom.”

“What was Violet and Tom’s relationship like?”

“It started good, but when I think on it now, they drank a lot and brought the worst out in one another,” I said, thinking about how my mum was all about Tom.

“And when was the first time Tom touched you inappropriately?”

My heart began to pound erratically, and I couldn't look at him, so I kept my eyes focused on the ceiling. I don't know how he knew about Tom, but my mind went to Melissa, the first back-stabbing bitch I met on the streets. She was the only person I told.

I didn't want to remember because I still felt the initial discomfort of knowing it felt wrong.

What he did felt so wrong.

It felt so wrong.

Until it didn't.