Chapter 20
I often ask myself, “What if...?” What if things had turned out differently? Would I’ve been the same person? Would I have knowingly chosen this path? Or was it all meant to be regardless of the choices I made? What if?
I felt blood drain from my face as fear gripped my body.
“Clean up after yourself,” he barked rudely.
I turned back to the table meekly and wanted to crouch down, but my dress wouldn’t let me.
I hiked it up, getting down on my knees.
My hands were shaking as I collected the shards into a napkin, putting the broken plate together like a puzzle.
He stood there, arms crossed. The bottomless void of his pitch black eyes looked down on me like I was not only unworthy of being here, but had no right to exist at all.
He liked the power. He loved inflicting pain and destruction.
Once I was done, I felt my feet go numb. I swayed as I got back up and he quickly caught me by the arm.
I jerked my arm away like it was on fire.
“I’m done.”
“No.”
My heart began thumping harder again.
Did I miss something?
“Take a napkin and wipe me down.”
His face remained expressionless. It looked colder than a slab of ice. But I could feel him crushing me, trampling me underfoot and enjoying the view .
His lips parted to say something and I quickly reached for a tissue napkin. The napkin was filthy and I didn’t know how to wipe him down.
I pulled the sleeve over my hand and wiped him off with careful motions of my shaky hands, moving from the neck to his chin.
I felt like a gazelle standing before a lion. One wrong move and I was dead.
Once my sleeve got dirty, I turned the fabric over and began wiping his face.
He was much taller than me. Even in heels I stood at his neck height as his heavy scent suffocated me.
I would not lift my eyes to look at him. I was scared.
“Enough,” he said coldly.
The sleeve slipped out of my grasp and my fingers touched the warm skin of his face.
The corner of his lips twitched imperceptibly and I pulled my hand away.
“Can I leave?”
“Yes.”
Holding back a sigh of relief, I quickly headed to the door.
I met Norman as soon as I left the room.
“Dinner was a blast, wasn’t it?” he asked, smirking.
I glared daggers at him and his smirk slowly faded.
I hastily passed two large rooms until I reached the hall. I took the shoes off and ran to my room.
My dress, makeup, lingerie, my hair, all of it felt weird, like it was sucking the life out of me. I wanted to get rid of it all.
I burst into my room and unbuttoned the dress feverishly. Stopping mid-way, I pulled it over my head.
I turned the warm shower on and got in.
Memories of the last week tormented me. They were so oppressively persistent I could barely get through the brain fog they brought me. I felt the growing dread slowly taking over my body .
I couldn’t stop shivering, so I turned the cold water on.
I closed my eyes and took deep breaths.
I could hear Justin’s voice, felt his touch, inhaled his scent.
Icy water washed away my warm tears.
Once I noticed I was no longer trembling with fear, I turned the warm water back on.
It warmed me up, comforting and making my body relax. I could feel my thoughts melt, my emotions calming down.
The bathroom made me feel safe. I wished I could hide there forever.
Wished he could never find me. Wished no one could.
I wiped the vapor off the mirror.
I looked myself in the eyes.
I promised myself I’d make it out and run away. I would escape. I would never let them devour me. I would not let the evil win.
I must keep fighting. No matter what. I would not give up. I would fight.
I wrapped my phone in toilet paper and hid it on the bottom shelf behind the toilet paper.
I had to get my hands on a charger. The phone was my only way out now.
Lost in thought, I sat down on a small plush rug and leaned against the sink cabinet. Before I knew it, sleep took me over.
I was startled awake by the sound of the door handle rattling violently.
I tried to jump to my feet, but the sharp pain in my shoulder nearly knocked me back down. Slipping on the carpet, I grabbed the sink at the last second to steady myself.
“Why the fuck is the bathroom locked?”
I unlocked the door right away and threw it open.
Norman was standing there, scowling.
“What?”
“Why was the door locked? ”
“I locked the bathroom because I was using it. Look at me, I’m wearing a bathrobe.”
He swore under his breath.
“Boss says you need to be ready by six.”
“What’s at six?”
“He’ll tell you himself.”
“What time is it?”
“Time to get ready.”
Norman left and I felt the consequences of napping on the floor.
My neck and left side were killing me. The rest of my body didn’t feel much better.
There was a knock on the door before Sana entered the room.
She greeted me and got to work straight away.
I bared my shoulder and saw her shake her head disapprovingly.
“A couple stitches came apart. I’m gonna have to put them back.”
Emotions overwhelmed me yesterday and I didn’t see that happen.
Sana gave me a shot and took out a needle.
I felt nothing as it pierced my skin.
I thought about how great it’d be to have some sort of a shot for emotions. An injection to make you forget about pain, fear or any other emotions you don’t want. Life would’ve been so much easier.
Granted, I wouldn’t have been able to feel joy, but what would I need it for, if all I could feel was pain? Why would I need it if the pain leaves a wound so deep you feel like this time you’re not gonna make it?
And the happiness? What does happiness leave behind? Just a sweet aftertaste. You can’t capture it and stuff it in a box. You can’t feel it all the time. Now you have it, the next moment you don’t .
It’s a mirage. Sometimes you miss it so bad you begin to desperately seek it out yourself. And you’d do anything to feel its fleeting relief. So let it burn with the pain.
“Do you have kids?”
“Yes.”
“How old are they?”
“He’s 22.”
“So am I.”
Without a word, she cut the thread and placed a band-aid over the wound.
“I lost my phone charger. Do you have one on you?”
“No.”
She pierced my vein and inserted the needle.
“Try not to break any more stitches. Reapplying stitches would leave a rough scar.”
“Okay,” I whispered, looking at my ring.
The silence made me ask her outright.
“Do you work for him because you want to, or because he’s forcing you to?”
Sana lifted her head to look at me.
“Because I want to.”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.
We didn’t talk after that. Once the drip was done with, she quickly finished her work and disappeared.
Norman never brought my things back. The reaper obviously told him to throw them away.
I sat at the vanity table, looking at the pile of makeup before me, not knowing what to use.
Makeup had always been an outlet for me. It was my meditation, something that always put a smile on my face. I could use it to express myself, show the world who I thought I was. But what was I like now ?
I slowly brushed my hair, twisted and pinned it up with a claw clip.
I didn’t want to use the eyeshadow shades I was used to, much less my favorite ones. I wanted to keep the things I liked to myself only. I wanted to hide them, keep them a secret, something that evoked good memories and reminded me of who I used to be.
I finished my evening makeup that night and felt absolutely nothing for the first time.
My hair was fluffy and curled up and the ends. I never liked straightening them. But today I knew I wanted to hide. I did not want to show the real me.
I rummaged through the entire underwear drawer but found no comfortable lingerie. So I chose something white.
I walked up to the mirror and didn’t recognize myself.
I looked like an older version of myself, like I was 28, and not 22.
Would I live to see my 28th birthday?
Suddenly, the feeling of anger swept over me like an icy rain.
Blamed the gorillas attacking the university.
Blamed Lea for not letting us take the fire-escape.
Blamed people at the library for not fighting back.
Blamed the reaper for what he did to my mom.
Blamed mom for not staying home that day.
Blamed dad for letting her leave. Blamed parents for not letting me drop out of the university.
Blamed Bell for not taking my side. Blamed Justin for making me forget about wanting to drop out.
Blamed him for leaving and never coming back.
Blamed myself for not being brave enough to do it.
Blamed myself for not running away from the reaper when I still could.
The door opened, distracting me from the flow of my grim thoughts.