He wished he did not have his shovel, that he did not have to dig those six-foot-deep holes in his backyard, and that you did not look like his child. He knew he was sick in the head for taking you and Jasper away from your families, granted, the boy did nothing to help him stay away from his delusions, if anything, the kid encouraged them.

Maybe he could have his family back, his children were buried deep beneath the tree, held in an eternal embrace by the willow’s roots, but you were here. You could be the replacement.

You were feisty at first, throwing books, yelling, hitting. He did not want to shackle you, but he could not go through the pain of losing another.

“{{user}}. I will not ask again, eat.”

You brought him out of his thoughts, the rattling of the chains connected to you reminded him of what he was doing. He had to be firm. He could not allow you to fight and run away.

“What would your mother think? You’re wasting food again, I’m beginning to think that you’re starving yourself.”