Chapter 20 The Little Prince #2
The word beautiful had become so disgusting to me.
I hoped she never thought this was what I meant when I said it to her.
This was not the way I loved her, by ripping her body and mind to shreds.
Please tell me she never thought I’d do this to her.
I’ll never hurt you, Magdalena. I’ll never put myself above you.
I wished for him to leave so I could finally cry, but he was comfortable, relaxing, so I had to keep the act. The show had to go on.
“I’m so in love with you. Tell me what you want. What do you need from me?”
The first thing I asked for was a toothbrush and toothpaste, but he wanted to give me more, so I asked for a daily warm shower. Next thing I knew, they built a shower just outside the cage.
At first, I took long, scalding showers right after he left, but then he told me I could only bathe to be clean for him, so I had to wait to shower right before his visit.
The motherfucker forced me to go through the night with him all over me.
After weeks of being clean, I couldn’t stand to be so dirty and found myself scratching my body at the feel of his hands all over me long after he’d leave. I’d scratch until I bled.
My days became a blur; so many hours of doing nothing except trying to pull the poles out of the ground.
It was impossible. In the solitary silence I lost hours, days and the line between reality and dreams blurred again.
Sometimes I would have nightmares of when Mum burned to death and he took me.
He’d drag me farther and farther while Mum begged me to help her.
I could only escape the dream by screeching myself out of them and then I sit there going through the list. Bhutan.
Ireland. Cuba. Puerto Rico. India. Vietnam.
Madagascar. Iceland. It was the only thing that calmed me.
I remembered how Magdalena said that Bhutan was a country in the clouds.
I imagined us up in the mountains playing hide-n-seek in the fog.
If I ever find the way to free myself from here, I’ll never stop holding you, Magdalena.
When he wanted to give me more, I asked for blankets, a mattress, and finally, I asked for clothes.
I knew he wouldn’t like the idea because he was constantly leering at my body.
Eventually, I was content that we settled on a luxurious robe he swore by; it had multiple layers of silk gold stitching.
“Fit for a prince, my prince,” he’d said.
The next things I asked for were books and a pencil.
I truly asked for the pencil just to write but he thought I secretly wanted it as a weapon and made me pay dearly for it.
He yelled, “You think I’m stupid?” He slapped me so hard I slid across the floor.
That time, I didn’t hide the sobbing. I cried the entire time he brutally used me, but he was so infuriated, I’m sure he didn’t notice.
That time it wasn’t only the sick lust but also a punishment, so the pain was pure agony.
I’d thought I would die. I thought I would bleed all of myself out.
And in fact they took me to the medical unit the next morning when they found me in a puddle of blood.
Two weeks later, he showed up with some books, one of them being The Little Prince.
God, did I hate the ever living fuck out of that book.
I saw it from the beginning, he thought he was my one rose for me to take care of, to spoil to endure the degradation from.
He’d read chapters with me and analyze them, trying to force compliments about himself out of me.
“You’re my rose,” I finally said, exhausted from the brainwashing taking place.
His eyes filled with tears. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you, my sweet prince. I don’t know what I’d do without you. No one ever understands. But you do. I know you’ve had to adjust and I’m not always perfect, but I know you understand that I love you.”
I nodded. “Yes. I do.” He kissed me after and forced my body to react to him.
It happened so many times that eventually, my body got used to it, and although deep inside I hated it, I learned I couldn’t help how my body reacted.
I especially hated it when he’d stay the whole day and night.
On one of those occasions, after the act, we sat side by side with our backs against the poles of the cage.
He rambled for hours about the way he hated his wife, his sons.
It was the first time I’d ever known Mael had a brother.
A twin brother, of all things. I wondered where he’d been all this time but didn’t dare ask.
As soon as he mentioned his name, Calum, he went into silence for a long time, staring at nothing.
I didn’t say a word, preferring him to be in a trance instead of hurting me.
Then like nothing he talked about how he liked to run his business.
“You are my prince. Eventually, if you behave, if you prove your loyalty and love to me, I will let you out of this cage and you will help me run this project. People look down on it, but the fact of the matter is, this is the most profitable business there is in the world. The demand is so high we can’t even keep up.
” He chuckled. “People are such hypocrites, aren’t they? ” He paused, waiting for my answer.
“Yes, Master, they are.”
“Everyone wants a slave; someone they can use as they wish without pay or retribution, but no one likes anyone else having one. At least I’m honest I want one, and I understand why others do too.
” He paused. “What I’m trying to say is that although you’re only mine, for my pleasure, there are other slaves here, but they’re for other Masters who happen to come from very luxurious lifestyles.
We can’t just give them anybody off the streets and expect them to know how to act properly for their Masters, they need to be properly trained. ” He paused. “As I’ve trained you.”
Trained me. The words disgusted me to the point I had to cover my mouth. I coughed, but really, I was trying not to vomit. “You’ve been special because you didn’t need so much training. You were made for me, Killian, but unfortunately, that’s not always the case.”
I nodded but didn’t look at him. “I understand, Master.”
“If you stay by my side, you can be my equal partner. I’m willing to give you the world, Killian.” I turned my eyes back to him, and he kissed my forehead.
He’d watch with fascination while I climbed my cage like some spider. Even though I was doing it to loosen them, I’d told him it was how I exercised. On the next visit, he brought me the whole Spider-Man series.
To this day, I’m not sure if it was on purpose, if he knew Spider-Man lost the love of his life and best friend from school because of villains like him. Poor Spider-Man.
I’d started all this to ensure he’d keep her away from the monster—his son—I constantly heard yelling at that girl.
I didn’t want her to go through that, to deal with his disgusting, stupid bullying all day and night.
As time went on, it was as if Master had put my brain in a washing machine on an infinite cycle with bleach, and I couldn’t even figure out how much of myself I’d lost to keep him happy.
I couldn’t tell when I was lying or telling the truth.
I was in a constant state of confusion, with no control over anything at all.
I’d watch the sun sweep the sky, lighting the windows on the east then the ones on the west side.
Sometimes I’d think it was early morning then I’d find the sun on the wrong side.
The only thing that felt real were my memories of her, under the magnolia tree at school, where I memorized her smile, learned how her hair danced with the wind, where we came up with all kinds of different worlds and where we married each other.
After a month without him, I got comfortable, enjoying reading The Count of Monte Cristo with the siren singing in the background. She’d disappeared for a while, but she was back.
I thought things couldn’t get worse. What a fecking fool I was. Of course they could get worse. My life had been nothing but a series of situations that eventually became unbearable.
One night, I woke up to him walking in—drunk or drugged, who knows.
The worst part? He wasn’t alone. He had another man and boy with him.
As they tortured us and made us do unspeakable things, they kept calling us little princes.
He’d fainted for so long, I’d thought him dead.
After he’d closed his eyes, I watched the sunrise light the windows as they tortured me.
I thought I would never see him again but he kept showing up, walking around the cage without saying a word to me.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you the other night.
” The words would always tumble out of me with desperation.
I needed him to forgive me so badly for making him cry so hard, for hurting him.
“You understand I had no choice, right?” Sometimes he’d meet my gaze.
Most of the time, he’d just brush his palm against the bars as he sauntered around, whistling.