God, I want to die.
I’m limp by the time she stops. My arms hang from the sides of the cot. The floor is gritty against the backs of my knuckles and I remember the angel over the mausoleum.
The Watcher.
I remember how her hands were carved into the stone, curled into the ground, not even holding on, defeated and yet watchful.
But I’m not carved from stone.
And I am only defeated.
I have nothing left.
Her shoes click as she walks across the room, and I hear her whisper, giving some order to Ethan. He comes toward me and I pull away, but can hardly move and where would I go? He stands on the side of the bed and I can feel his eyes on me and a brand-new wave of fear turns the blood in my veins to ice.
No.
Please not this.
Not this.
The beating I can take, but this?
I hear him unzip his pants.
God. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Please God don’t let him do this.
Don’t let him rape me.
Please.
Please.
Please.
I wretch then, half on the cot, half off. I’m waiting to feel his hands on me, waiting for him to pull me apart.
And then I hear him. I hear his grunts. Feel the weight of his knee on the bed.
“I’m not touching you,” he says.
I try to drag myself away.
“Sebastian says I’m not to touch you.”
I don’t watch him.
I bury my face and, after a few more minutes, I feel the first spurt of cum on my back. I hear the sounds he makes as he pumps his dick with his hand, covering me, my hair, my back, my ass, careful not to touch me, not with his knee, not with any part of himself.
When he’s done, he stumbles backward. I open my eyes and look at him looking me over, taking in his handiwork.
He zips his pants and walks out the door and this time, I hear the lock turn and I lie there, in my own vomit. In my own piss. Covered in cum.2HelenaI don’t know how long I lie there. I fall asleep and when I wake up, I’m sore and freezing cold. I turn my head, wipe my face off. I stink of puke and piss and the smell of stale water permeates this forgotten place, and all I hear is that constant drip, drip, drip.
It will drive me insane.
My mouth is dry. I’m so thirsty.
It takes me a long time to get up, and I walk with difficulty to the door. I pull at the rusted ring to open it, but I know it’s locked. I heard them lock it.
I call out once, twice, my voice small and cracking, but I hear nothing back. Nothing but water all around me.
The light bulb flickers on and off and a new panic overtakes me. To be here in the dark, in the pitch black, I can’t. I can’t think about that.
I walk to the boarded-up window and reach up to touch the wood, try to get my fingernails around the edges, but it’s solidly in place and I know I’m underground. If this was ever a window, it’s beneath the earth now.
I look around for something to pick the lock. For anything. But I find nothing. Nothing I can use to pry the door open.
Is this where I’ll die? Buried alive in this forgotten place?
A chill has me hugging my arms to myself. I’m thirsty. I’m so thirsty I consider drinking from a small puddle of dirty water in a corner that’s leaked in from a crack in the wall, but when I bend down to touch it, it’s slimy. I wipe my hand off on the wall and return to the cot and sit. It’s still wet from him or me. I can feel his stuff on me, caked and dried and disgusting.
But at least he didn’t touch me. At least he was too afraid of Sebastian to touch me.
Lying down on my side, I close my eyes, tracing the risen line on my belly, not daring to touch those on my back. It hurts to even hug my arms into myself.
I think about what Sebastian said. How he watches me sleep. How he says I sleep most soundly when he wraps an arm around me, cocooning me.
I wish he were here now. I wish he’d find me now. Bust through the door and take me back to the island. Clean me up and lay me down. Lay me down in his bed and cocoon me in his arms and keep me safe.
Tears lull me to sleep. My thirst is what wakes me the next time. It’s so powerful, it hurts.
My stomach aches from hunger and I wonder how long I’ve been in here. I wonder if I’ll die down here before Sebastian finds me, if he’s even looking for me. I try to sit up, but it hurts too much.