18. Savanna #2
“I don’t think you’ve earned those privileges.
” His fingers graze along my jaw and neck.
I try to scoot away but he uses his other hand to hold me in place.
“Having to piss yourself will humble you a bit, I think. It’ll be so degrading.
” He leans down, and I feel his nose graze my skin before he brings his mouth to my ear.
My skin crawls at his touch, at having him this close and being unable to push him away.
“I predict that you’ll spread those pretty legs for me. You just need the right motivation.”
A tear slides down my face when he kisses my cheek.
“No food, no water, no bathroom, I wonder how long you’ll last,” he muses while he kisses along my jaw.
I feel the air against my skin when he huffs out a harsh laugh.
“I predict you’ll be begging for my dick in no time.
” He lifts up so I can see the smug grin he’s giving me.
“Don’t worry, Savanna, I won’t hold a grudge when you eventually cave.
I’ll let you fuck me as soon as you ask nicely. ”
He laughs again as he stands up to look down at me. “I may make you shower first. You’re about to get filthy.” He points a finger at me like I’m a disobedient child. “Just remember you brought this on yourself. It didn’t have to be this way.”
Ignoring him, I scoot onto my side, curling into a tight ball while my hands hang uselessly above my head. At least they’re not as high as they were. If I angle myself right, I can use my head to help support the weight.
I hear his footsteps and then the click of the security code. “I’ll see you soon, Savanna,” he says before the door is shut and I’m left alone again.
Now that he’s gone, I let myself fall apart.
Sobs rack my body as I bury my face against my arm.
I don’t know if sound can travel outside of this room, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry.
As strong as I’m trying to be, I know in my heart he’s right.
Everyone has a breaking point. At some point my will to live will surpass my resistance.
“Niki,” I whisper his name, needing to hear it, even if it does break my heart to say it. I need him here with me, even if it is just the whisper of his name from my bloody lips.
“Niki, please find me.”
I curl into an even tighter ball. The room is cold, and the blanket fell to the floor when that poor girl was forced onto it.
It was thin and dirty and scratchy, but at least it was something.
I regret all the water I drank earlier. It had seemed like a smart thing at the time, but now my bladder is full and I’m not sure how long I can hold it.
Things are going to get worse from here on out, and I try to brace myself for that.
My mind keeps replaying images from the last few days.
I swear I can hear Niki’s voice in my ear and feel his soft touch on my skin.
Even here in this scary cellar of a room, I still feel his love, and I know he’s doing everything he can to find me.
Cupid is wrong. Niki’s a thousand times smarter than him, and he’ll find me.
He won’t stop until he does. I hold onto that hope, clinging to it with everything I have while I close my eyes and try to escape the hell I’m currently in.
I don’t expect to be able to sleep, so I’m not at all surprised when all I do is toss and turn.
Every position I get in hurts my hands, and eventually I’m forced to sit all the way up so I can wiggle my fingers and try to get some circulation going.
The light stays on, and soon I’m wishing I had a way to break it.
In frustration, I kick my foot up, wishing like hell it was long enough to hit the wire mesh that surrounds the bulb.
I’m grateful for it, but it’s also making it impossible for my head to stop throbbing.
As much as I’m hating it right now, though, I’m glad it’s still on.
Without it, it’d be pitch black in here.
I haven’t seen any bugs yet, but this looks like exactly where a lot of them would choose to live.
Goosebumps rise along my skin just thinking about all the pairs of eyes that are probably watching me right now. I look around the room, trying to spot any movement, but I don’t see anything, at least not yet. I’m not sure how long they’ll stay hidden, but I sure as hell hope it lasts a while.
The clanging of my cuffs against the metal rail every time I move seems to echo off the walls, and it’s not long before I’m squirming like one of the kindergarteners I hope to teach one day who’s desperately in need of a bathroom break.
Soon it’s all I can think about. I wiggle my feet and legs, doing anything to try and divert attention away from my aching bladder.
At first it was annoying, but now it’s downright painful, and I know I can’t hold it for much longer.
I bounce my legs and think about my options. Pissing my pants is a last resort. I’ll be stuck in wet clothes, it’ll be harsh on my skin, and I just really don’t want to do it. Holding it is also not an option, and if I keep doing it for much longer, my body is going to make the decision for me.
With no other choice that I can think of, I grab onto the bed frame near my head.
The cuffs bang against the metal as I slowly maneuver onto my knees and scoot as close to my hands as I can.
When it’s not enough, I stand on the mattress and hunch over, angling my hips so I can reach the button on my jeans.
My fingers hurt and they’re still half-numb, but after several tries, I’m able to get them undone.
Wiggling them down is a lot harder, and by the time I manage it, I’m breathing hard and starting to sweat.
I also feel like a giant idiot with my pants pulled down and hunched over.
I’m not sure what I’ll do if Cupid chooses this moment to walk in.
Wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, I slowly scoot to the side of the bed and lower my feet to the floor.
If I stretch my arms to the point of pain, I have just enough room to squat.
My heart races and my eyes keep darting to the door. I’m terrified he’s going to walk in and find me in this vulnerable position. As badly as I need to pee, I’m too freaked out to do it. I force myself to take a deep breath.
“I can do this,” I whisper to myself. “It’s no different than being on a toilet. I can fucking do this.”
After a couple more calming breaths, I feel my body relax, and when I manage to release a tiny trickle of urine, it’s such a relief that I laugh and will myself to keep going.
It’s not pretty. I make a mess and end up peeing on my jeans a little bit, but it still feels like a victory, and the instant relief in my bladder is worth it.
At least I won’t be forced to lay in a puddle.
After several more minutes of fumbling my way back onto the bed and getting my underwear and jeans back up, I scoot to the other side and try my luck at grabbing the blanket.
Stretching my legs out, I’m able to hit it with my shoes and then slowly drag it closer.
When it’s bunched up at my feet, I pinch it between them and haul it up to the mattress.
Once I’ve used my legs to get it closer, I sit down and rest my head against the wall.
I know it’s stupid, and I know I’m still a woman chained to a bed next to a puddle of piss on the floor, but it gives me hope.
I figured out a way to go to the bathroom, and I have my ratty blanket back.
Two problems solved. A million more to go.
It’s not much, but it’s a start, and I’ll take any positives I can get.
“Come on, Niki. I know you can find me.” I say the words to my empty room, but hearing them out loud makes me feel better, so I keep talking.
I tell him all about the huge crush I’ve had on him for months, the hours I used to whine to Cindy about him not noticing me, and then I tell him all about how happy I was when he came to help me with my laptop and what I dream about for our future.
I talk until my throat is sore and my voice is raspy.
I talk until eventually my eyes drift shut, and then I fall asleep with his name on my lips.