CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HOPE
“Why did you have to go?”
“We told you not to and you didn’t listen.”
“We told you to be careful.”
“You have no one else to blame but yourself.”
“This is all your fault.”
“You never listen. You didn’t listen.”
“Look what’s happened now.”
“You silly, silly girl.”
My parents’ faces come back and fro through the darkness, their faces blurry and then clear as they speak the words over and over again, mocking my stupidity. Their voices ring in my ears and their eyes speak of their embarrassment. They’re embarrassed of me, they don’t love me, they hate me and they won’t come to save me.
No one will come to save me.
I’m here on my own, I’ll always be on my own and it’s all my fault.
Why did I have to do what I wanted?
Why couldn’t I have just listened to my parents?
I’m stuck here till they’ve had enough of me or they kill me. Death seems like a much better option at the moment. I wish it could swoop down and claim me as its own.
“No one is coming to get you.”
“You deserve this.”
“It’s all your fault.”
****
I awake with a start, my heart thumping away in a chaotic rhythm as my breathing finds it too hard to catch a breath. I hear the door creak once again and the blinding light shines through, casting me in its light, taking away the darkness and with it any sort of comfort I have been able to find. Three figures step through the door, the same figures as last time and with it the same sense of fear and then a touch of safety before it goes again.
“How are you doing?” A voice asks. It’s not Mark’s, this one sounds older, louder and more intense. It must be his father’s.
“Slave.” He adds with that sneer again. I look down, I can’t look at them right now, anything to make me think of anything but this room and what it holds for my future. I can feel all of their eyes burning holes in my back as they watch me, analysing me.
“Are you going to look at us?” He adds.
“At your masters.”
That word and the way he says it makes me want to just shrivel up and die. Make this all over. But I know deep down in my gut that I can’t do that. I have to be strong, I have to hope and pray that there is a way out of this. That there is a way that I can get back home, that the words from my dreams aren’t true. My parents would never think like that about me. They love me. I know they do and I know that will try everything they can to get me back.
“Look at us.” I can’t do it and so I concentrate on the floor around my body instead, the cold that continues to rip through my body is the only thing I try to think about.
“Look at us, slave.” There is added disgust at that last word and I just want to disappear into the woodwork.
“Fucking look at us girl!” His voice bounces off the walls, vibrating throughout my entire cell and going through my body like an intense wave riding the sea.
“See what I’ve had to put up with.” Mark says. Their eyes still rain fire upon my body.
“She’ll learn. She has to or her owner will beat it into her.”
Owner.
Slave.
Oh God, please just take me away from here, I don’t know how much longer I can cope with all this. I can feel my grip of sanity losing its strength and I know that soon I will just succumb to the madness and when I do I don’t know what will happen to me. I hear someone’s footsteps get closer to me, a sense of fear and dread consumes me with each step he takes getting closer and closer to me.
Boom
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Each one getting louder until all of a sudden it stops. A rich spice fills my nose, something strong and musty going down to the back of my throat. I try to swallow and the smell is all I can taste. Cold hands reach over my body to each of my shoulders and abruptly turn me over so I’m forced into direct contact with the burning light and with them. I can feel each of them around me, closing in and ready to strike. The cold hands move away from me and I try to look at anything except where I know they are. A cold finger and thumb take a hard grip of my chin and force my head up. I see him there in front of me, waiting for me to acknowledge him, but I can’t. I can’t acknowledge this. I can’t and I just close my eyes, hoping to shut them out. The sound of the slap is what I’m aware of first, once the ringing in my ears subsides the pain in my cheek intensifies. Old wounds melt into the new as I crash back down on the floor. I can hear the crack of bones as I land in a heap again.
“Pick her up, Zac.”
There’s a sudden shift in the air as I slowly open an eye. The pain rips through the socket at the action and the light but I just make out the other figure coming over to me. Warmth spreads through the air in gentle waves and a sense of calm blossoms in my brain. He looks like an angel as he steps right up to me and crouches down so we are almost eye to eye. My body protests at the gentle way he picks me up, my ribs crack open and feel like they are ripping into my lungs. I can feel the gentle beat of his heart and it instantly starts to calm me until I remember where I am.
I’m a prisoner.
They want to turn me into a whore, a slave, and fresh tears fall down my cheeks. Everyone is silent, his heartbeat becomes louder and louder and I’m sure that Mark and his father must be able to hear it too, but nothing is said. They must be able to hear it because right now, to me, he sounds like a train on its tracks speeding away to its destination.
What’s Zac’s destination?
Why do I not feel the same with him as I do with the others?
Why does he not come across like the animal I know he must be? He’s here, that means he has to be, surely, but my heart is screaming at me that all that is a lie. With me still held close to his chest I feel him move an arm around and under one of my arms. He moves the other to do the same and as he does I feel my body flop down in a twisted way. My hips scream in protest but I can do nothing but let it happen. I have no control over anything my body does, it’s wrung tight with nervous energy and pain. With his height I am now merely hanging from his hands under my arms. My head is forced up and pushed against Zac’s hard yet warm chest as Mark’s father invades my space. I feel him all over me as he looks me up and down, his finger and thumb still on my chin.
“Do you know what’s going to happen next, slave?” There’s that word again and I just want to be sick all over this bastard’s shoes.
“I...I..I’m going to go home.” I try to swallow away the nerves. Being brave hasn’t done anything in my favour yet but I’m not going to give up. Not yet.
“My parents will find me and they’ll take me back.” I swallow again.
“I have a father and three brothers and they’ll just love making you pay.”
The slap rings through my ears and my heart descends into my stomach as I hear him laugh.
“Your family. Your father and brothers won’t get the chance to get to me, little girl.”
“Y...Y..Yes they will.”
He smiles down at me as if he’s party to some information that I can never comprehend. Maybe he is but I know my family and I know they will find me.
“There’s a little party I’m hosting in a month and do you know what?” I just look at him.
“You’re going to be my centrepiece. I have lots of rich friends and they have certain tastes. Tastes that many women wouldn’t go for so they need someone special. They need someone like me to get them what they need. Slaves.”
Slave. Why do they always keep saying that?
“I am not and I never will be someone’s slave.”
“But that’s the beauty of it all. You will be by the time my son and Zac are done with you and by the time your father and brothers know what’s going to happen it will all be too late. I’ll sell you to the highest bidder, take all the money for my own and then find another and another and do it all again, but nothing will give me more satisfaction then you.”
I start trying to shake my head but he has such a hold on me that I can’t move. I’m in a human gilded cage.
“We can always give you some of that special liquid again if you need more persuasion. If you don’t start doing as you are told. Remember what you are. You’re a slut. You’re a slave.”
I don’t know what scares me more, the way he tells me my future, the way he’s so causal with it or the threat of that juice again. I start shaking my head as I remember all the pain again and he just carries on smiling and then laughing at me.
“No. Please, not that. Please don’t give me that again.”
He leans forward so he is right by my ear so only I can hear him.
“You better start behaving then. Doing as you’re told and maybe, just maybe, it will be easier for you. Maybe if you’re a good little slave like you should be, we’ll sell you to someone nice. Someone who will treat you like a princess. If not…”
He stops for a moment, moves away to look at me before coming to my ear again.
“I can make sure you’re placed in hell.”
I’m already in hell but I don’t say that. I wish I could, but the repercussions won’t be worth it.
“In one month you will be auctioned, sold and leading a life of slavery and it will all happen. I promise you it will happen before Daddy can stop it. I might give him a few hints but that may ruin the game.” He lets go of my chin and starts moving his fingers down both sides of my face.
“This is your new future. It will happen, so you best get used to it.” He stops for a moment, looks over at Mark.
“My love.” He nods his head at Zac and then I’m flying to the ground, landing back in my heap. I hear their footsteps again but at least this time they are leaving me. Leaving me to think of my new future and what it could all mean, what I will have to endure at the hands of my new master.
Master.
Master.
A master. My master. I feel sick just thinking of it. I reach to my hair and take a firm grip at the short strands and just start pulling, trying to relieve some of the anger I feel. I scream with the pain but nothing seems to help. They reach the door, Mark’s dad’s hand is on the handle, getting ready to close me into the darkness again.
“Sweet dreams.” He starts to pull the door closed before he stops it again.
“My little slave. Sweet dreams.”
Slave.
Master.
Slave.
Master. The words echo all around me and I can’t escape their noise. My body soon becomes drenched in my sweat as my heart rate accelerates like a speeding train, it won’t stop. It can’t stop, it just gets faster and faster along its track of self-destruction. My body knows that my mind won’t even tolerate thinking and in its wake it’s on its own path of self-destruction. Everything is shutting down as the words slave, master, repeat in my ear, in the depths of my brain, giving me no time to think of anything else.
Sometime during my fight with my own body I expel whatever food I have in my stomach. It’s only a little as I’ve only had a few pieces of bread here and there but my stomach doesn’t care. I dry heave and dry heave until I’ve run out of energy. The blackness closes in and I’m too tired to fight it and to succumb is just an easier option.