ＨＩＳ ＡＦＴＥＲＧＬＯＷ - A Mafia Fiction

12- Grounding Reality (M)

__________

Send your dreams where nobody hides

Give your tears to the tide

No time

__________

I don't know what day it is.

I have been served rice more than four times.

And, they put this VR goggles thing around my head when they take me to shower, and I can't recall how many times that happened.

I have used the white paper and slipped it under the door to use the washroom many times, but I don't know how many times.

It's okay, though.

I have always had the short-term memory of a goldfish.

The whiteness has slowly made it into my eyes, and even when I bury my head in the mattress and close my eyes to sleep, all I see is white.

White.

It used to be my favorite color, and now, I don't think I will ever be able to look at it without my heart beating out of my chest. Some time ago, I almost forgot Gupta's name, so I have been reciting the names of all the people in my life.

Jai Ajmera.

Gupta.

Antony Danes. Noah Michaels. 

Sara, and Ahaan--?

Terry Wilson.

Amyra Ajmera.

I have decided not to lose my mind. I recite and remember all the events in my life, like when I was kidnapped from my engagement to Samuel Crews. How he gave me a black diamond ring that I hated. I even solve calculus, aloud, when I am bored to keep my brain working.

But, the white is getting to me.

Antony does not seem friendly to me, anymore. To be honest, I am scared of him. I haven't seen him since he changed me into my jumpsuit, but the mere thought of him coming in front of me makes me scared. It's even worse with Terry. I think I will scream my heart out if I see Terry. I think Noah won't hurt me, but after what I think I said to him before he left, perhaps he would want to.

The white is daunting.

*****

"Ahaan..." I wonder, trying to remember his identity. "Ahaan Ajmera, he's my brother," I continue, "Antony, my captor. There was a man who tortured me, a boy, with kind eyes, Noee... I think?" I say, my memory failing me, "never mind," I whisper and flop down on the mattress. I raise my hand in front of my face, the dark tone making me confused.

How do I look?

I close my eyes, my brain physically hurting with everything I am trying to remember. 

"Is my angel hurting?" A loud voice bellows in the room, and my eyes shoot open. 

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

I sit up, tears flowing down my eyes. "M-Mason?" I say in a quiet voice, my hands involuntarily scratching the skin of my palms.

"Should you even ask that, angel? Didn't you miss me?" he asks, walking towards me and kneeling in front of the mattress.

"I- I didn't. You hurt me, Mason!" I yell at him, shifting to the opposite edge.

He tsks, his white tank top clinging to his chest as his dark brown eyes gleam with mock care. "I only tried to make you talk, angel. And when you told me that you wouldn't talk, I thought that I would play with you. Was that so wrong of me?" he asks, caressing my cheek.