My head hurts like there’s a raging fire sitting in there, one I can’t seem to extinguish. Running my hands over my body I find I’m still fully dressed. My red dress is intact and not removed, but my shoes, on the other hand, are missing altogether. Touching my head, I feel a lump sitting back there. It hurts badly to touch but I’m glad when I feel no blood. My body starts hyperventilating, I can’t see anything, not a damn thing. The dark freaks me out more than being held by Derrick.

Managing to catch my breath and calm myself down a little I start moving, running my hands along the walls to try and work out where I am. I can’t see anything because the room is pitch black, and no light even flows in from under a door. The walls feel smooth, the floor has carpet underneath my feet. Walking around with my hands on the wall, I try to find something or anything to defend myself for when he comes back.

Why did he take me?

That’s a question that’s going to haunt me for however long I’m here.

Not a thing is in this room. The light switch even has the cover missing so I can’t turn it on. I sit back down on the floor, my head now pounding even more. I don’t know how long I sit in that room, but soon my bladder is full and I need to use the bathroom. My stomach is growling, and I remember I didn’t have any dinner.

Crawling to the door, I start to bang on it, hoping someone will come so I can use the bathroom and hopefully work out where the fuck I am. My hands start to ache, and I pull them away placing my ear to the door trying to listen for footsteps. The moment I do the door is flung open and I land at the feet of Derrick. I know it’s him automatically because of his smell. It’s all around me, he always uses too much spray-on deodorant. Sitting back and struggling to get to my feet, I attempt to leap at him, to hurt him in any way possible. But his hands catch me, turning me, and locking me in a vice grip so I’m unable to move. My breathing grows heavy, and his breath comes down over my bare shoulders. I feel his lips there, and try to move away but he holds tight and hovers over my shoulder.

“Let me go, Derrick,” I tell him, pulling again with no luck.

He laughs in my ear. “Not happening, I need to taste you again.”

The image of when he last touched me assaults me, and I want it gone immediately. His touches were rough and possessive. Even though he shared me, everyone knew I was his, and I was only allowed with other men if he set it up. It was his way of owning me, showing others the hold he had on me.

“That’s never going to happen. I never want you to touch me again,” I say to him. He squeezes me tightly, too tightly. “I need to use the bathroom,” I manage to push out.

His hold on me relaxes a little, and he lets go but is fast to grab hold of me again by my hand and starts pulling me away from the room he had me locked in. Looking back, I see that it’s a small room with gray walls and gray carpet. There’s definitely nothing in there that could help me at all. He stops, making me slam into him, when he pulls another door open—it’s the bathroom. Turning back to him, my hands come to a stop at the bottom of my dress, and I wish it was longer because his eyes keep going to my legs.

“You can’t watch me!”

His eyes move back up to me, then his head drops to the side. “Last chance to use the bathroom before you go back and think about why you want me.”

“Why I want you?” I question, and he steps in closer.

“Yes, I showed you real emotion. The first person to ever do so. I claimed you, and you left me all those years ago. But just because you ran away doesn’t mean I wouldn’t find you, Milanka.”

I step back, my legs hitting the toilet and my bladder tightens on me knowing it’s so close. “I need to pee,” I reiterate.

He waves his hand at the toilet. “You now have a few seconds. Move it.”

I pull my dress up just the slightest amount to reach my panties to pull them down, his eyes watch my movements but he doesn’t comment on them. I sit backward watching him staring at me.

I’ve done this before, weird as it sounds, gone to the bathroom in front of him. This time though, it feels forced and he becomes frustrated walking in and turning on the tap. He steps even closer to me. My bladder eventually gives up and let’s go, and the moment it does I feel a slight relief until I realize where I am once I’m finished.

Pulling up my panties after wiping, he takes hold of my wrist and drags me back to the same room, pushing me in and shutting the door hard. I stand at the door for a while trying to listen for anything and having no luck. Moving away, I drop to the floor and crawl up to a ball, wondering when or if I can get out of here and away from him without anything happening to me. I’m not afraid of what he can do, but what I can do also.

Waking up some time later, I hear muffled voices, but I can’t fully hear them. The door opens and Nicole walks in with a plate, and also a knife in her hand pointed at me. She drops the plate to the floor, and before I can manage to say a word, she walks out slamming it shut. Feeling my way to the plate, I touch it, and my stomach tightens in excitement of receiving some food. My hands feel the softness of bread which I eat first, way too fast. My stomach tightens, and I’m afraid I’m about to throw it all up when I hear Derrick’s voice. It’s still muffled, but I know that voice, very well, too well for my liking. Crawling past the food to the door, I place my ear on it hoping to hear what’s being said.

“She’ll be screaming for me soon.” His voice is certain.

“I doubt it.” Another voice speaks.

I try to pick the voice. I know I’ve heard it before. I know the voice, but I can’t just pinpoint how. I need to hear his voice more. My fists start banging on the door knowing both can hear me. Derrick’s laugh follows, and I hear his footsteps walking away. But I don’t hear two sets, so that means whoever he was speaking to is still down here with me. Listening and waiting for orders maybe?

“I can pay you,” I lie to the man who I know is still there. “I can pay you greatly,” I say, lying again.

“Keep your strength,” is all the voice says behind the door.

I slump down, wondering if I will get out, and where the fuck I would go if I did?

He will find me, again.

* * *

My back is still against the door when it opens, and I fall backward. When I manage to stand slowly waiting for Derrick to be there, I’m surprised when I don’t see him. Actually, I don’t see anyone. Looking around to make sure this isn’t some sort of trick, and when I see no one, I run. I know this house, I’ve spent enough time here now to know the ins and outs of it.

Days have turned into nights and nights have turned into days… I have no idea how long I’ve been here. All I do know is that I’ve made damn sure that I know the layout of the house in which I’m being held captive. So, if a chance arose, a small opportunity of escape, then I would know exactly where to run.

I make my way through the corridor and straight up the stairs to the front door. It’s dark when I pull the door open. The night sky is bright, the moon’s light is casting its blue haze over the ground, and I’ve never been so happy to see it. The bastard knows that I hate the dark, the shadows devour me, that’s why he locked me in there, the stupid prick.

Running, I make my way to the center of town and go to the nearest train station and don’t look back. My heart is beating through my chest, and I have no money on me.

Fuck! Now I can’t get on the train. Looking around, I find a cab sitting in front of a restaurant. Running over to it with my feet bare, I pull the door open and hurry into the back seat. The driver asks me my address, and when I give it to him he pauses, looking back at me. I manage a small smile and hope I don’t look like I just escaped from a mental asylum. The car starts up and relief floods through me as he begins to drive. I have money stashed in my jewelry box at home, money I was planning to buy a new mattress with. Now, all that money will go to this taxi driver for driving me the fuck out of that town and away from Derrick.

After several hours I arrive home, and the taxi driver looks back to me with his hand out. I hold up my hand telling him I need to get the money and jump out running to my apartment. As I reach the door, I realize I’ve forgotten I don’t have my keys either. I look down the hall and spot the manager and wave at him to let me in.

He quickly walks to the door and opens it, letting me in. “What’s up, Milanka?”

I think up a lie, and it slips from the tip of my tongue. “Forgot my damn keys. Thanks for letting me in.”

I walk past my door and notice it’s open, just slightly but definitely unlatched. With a push of the door, I take a cautious step inside and begin to look around. I don’t see anyone or even notice anything stolen, not that I have a lot to take in the first place.

Grabbing some money—thank God that’s still there—I run it out the front to the cab driver and thank him for waiting. After making my way back into my small, yet comforting apartment, I secure the door. But honestly, that doesn’t feel like enough right now. My hands shakes as I reach for my cell to call the police. I tell them what had just happened with a shaky breath, and they request for me to come to them. I can’t. I don’t want to leave the house right now. He informs me someone will be here soon to take my statement. Collapsing onto the ground with my back against the door, I wait for the police to come.

Once the police arrive, a man looks me over. What must I look like, I can’t even imagine. Running my hands through my hair to pull out some of the knots, I tell the officer as much as possible without telling him names. Giving him Derrick’s name isn’t something I want to do right now. I do leave hints, though, and he does say that he will investigate further.

My dreams, with Derrick in them, are too real for me, to give an officer anything that could lead directly to that scares me. But I can’t be so stupid anymore, I need to start looking out for me because no one else does.

As soon as he leaves, I grab the fridge, unplug it and roll it across to the door, so if someone tries to open it again at least it will wake me. Once that’s done, I take a knife from the rack and keep it close as I walk to the shower.

After stripping my clothes, I jump into the scalding hot water and begin the cleansing process. The hot spray descends on my body and feels like red hot needles penetrating my skin. As I scrub away everything that reminds me of fucking Derrick, the water turns dark as it circles the drain.

I try to figure out who might have opened the door. I didn’t think of it on the way home, I was too busy looking out the back window of the cab, afraid that someone was following me and this was just a joke or a game of cat and mouse.

After cleansing my body thoroughly, I climb out and grab the knife, holding it close to me as I walk out.

I will use it if he comes back.

He won’t take me again.

Especially now I know he wants me back. After all these years, I was hoping that somehow he may have forgotten about me. I guess my luck isn’t that good.

Come to think of it, my luck got stuck up that Leprechaun’s ass and has never escaped.

Fucker.