13. Emily
The coppery taste of blood coats the inside of my mouth and throat. Every cell in my body screams in agony with each movement I try to make. My brain feels like it’s repeatedly throwing itself against the inside of my skull.
I’ve been fighting as much as I can against Nikolai and his beatings are becoming more violent. I’ve spent more time in The Hole than I have anywhere else. The only times I’m allowed out are to shower and when Nikolai wants me for his pleasure.
The demon that lurks, follows me everywhere now. It always hovers in the corner of every room. Watching me. Taunting me.
The demons that plagued me in the past hold no comparison to the cruelty this demon provides. It’s no longer faceless or shadowy.
Its angular face matches my own but where mine is from lack of nutrients, its face is sinister. Evil. Its voice is one that brings your nightmares to reality and it’s impossible to block out. It’s impossible to ignore the terror it forces into my body.
The never-ending Hell of this place is something no living being should ever succumb to.
My scratching has worsened. Not to mention my appetite. My stomach is in a constant state of hunger that I’ve become accustomed to. Sometimes, I don’t even notice it anymore.
The scrapes of fabric that make up the sad excuse for a dress they provided when I arrived, now sit on my body like a drape. I’m deathly.
But still, I hope. I still trust that the ghosts who promise salvation are not being deceitful.
I idly trace my forefinger along the cracks of the concrete wall I lean against. I’ve traced over markings that I can unfortunately tell are tally marks. I’ve counted them – there are one-hundred and fifteen.
Whoever made those markings spent either the number of days spent in here, or that is the total number of times they’ve been locked in. Either way, it’s horrific to think about.
The scrapped concrete digs into the skin of my fingers as I continue to trace the lines.
How many women have been here before me?
How many never left?
That thought causes me to sit straighter and more on edge. Despite not being able to see inches in front of me, I still scan the dark space.
Anxiety simmers below the surface at the thought of seeing the faces of those who were trapped here in the past.
I remain unmoving as I wait for any indication that those ghosts are going to taunt me.
When nothing happens, my shoulders lower – only slightly. I’m still nervous that they will make themselves known when I least expect it.
I lean my head against the wall, feeling the cold of the stone press against my brow. My eyes flutter closed, and I begin humming a lullaby my ma would sing to me during the nights when sleep evaded me.
I can feel the soft caress of her voice flow gently over my skin. Her light floral scent begins filling my nose and I drift off to sleep.
Raising my cupped hands, I blow as much warm air as I can into them to warm my frigid skin. The tips of my fingers are beginning to lose feeling and they have begun to turn a pale blue from lack of circulation. The temperature outside plummeted with the impending winter and so did the temperature in The Hole.
I wrap the rough fabric of the dirty blanket around my legs and tuck the ends over my feet. My teeth have been chattering uncontrollably and my jaw is beginning to suffer because of it.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been down here. I’m not even sure what time of day it is.
“ Féileacán.”
The whisper is so faint, I nearly miss it.
“Liam?” I whisper in the darkness.
“Stay alive, Féileacán.”
My cracked lip quivers slightly and I swallow the lump that has lodged itself in my throat.
“Stay alive.”
I don’t speak. I can’t.
I’m fighting to stay alive. To hold on. I’ve been beaten because of my fight.
At what point does it stop being worth it?
Am I even worth it?
I can make out a soft glow just in front of me. Its shape is tall – like Liam – my heart starts to speed up. Slowly, I push the blanket away from me and use my shaky limbs to prop myself up on my knees.
The hard stone digs into my knees and I wince, buckling slightly.
The figure steps closer and lowers itself to my level. I let out a choked sob Liam’s face appears. I bring my hand up and try to touch him, only for my hand to fall as it passes through his ghost.
Tears stream down my face at yet another reminder that he’s not real, that I’ve truly lost myself in my mind and my hallucinations are altering my reality.
His hazel eyes watch me for a moment before he slowly begins to fade.
“No! Pl – Please don’t leave. Please… don’t leave me here alone.” I cry and I try to grasp onto anything to ground his spirit.
“I’m coming, Féileacán.”
And then his ghost evaporates into nothing.
I swear the crack of my soul is audible. Lifting my hand, I rub my frail chest to try and relieve the pain of my heart.
It doesn’t help. This pain is too tangible. Too deep-rooted within my body.
“Please… Come back.” I whisper.
My eyes flutter as the tears continue to fall freely.