𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒

𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 

The first thing I register when my brain clears is the soft, clean sheets my body lays on top of.

I turn my head, confusion contorting my face as I see the clean grey walls, a large window, and two other white doors. My head lays upon a fluffy, fresh-smelling pillow that supports my neck and my legs are tangled up in an oversized white comforter.

"Good, you're awake." My head flies in the opposite direction, snapping to the man sitting in a chair next to a coffee table. He stands up and walks for the bed, my body instantly tensing as his large frame begins to tower over me, as his head cocks to the side and his eyes narrow.

I feel myself trying to fall deeper into the mattress, but it's no use. I can't escape this man. If he wants me, he'll take me.

"W-where am I?" I ask. "Did you take me away? Are they going to find me?" I swing my head back to look at the other side of the room wanting to make sure it's just this man, that another one won't pop up behind me, and hold me to the bed as they take turns with me.

"Who are 'they'?" He questions pulling my attention back to him. He was the man who came to decide if I would be let on the plane. The man who wore all black and didn't have the pretty blue eyes.

I wonder where that man is now? I liked him better.

"They..." I start, taking a moment to think about how I want to answer that question, how I even can. What are they? Who are they? It seems like an impossible question to answer with simple terms.

Because I don't truly know who they are.

They're my masters. They're my kidnappers. They're my rapists.

They're my family.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes as I think about who these people are, of what they have done and can still do to me.

Just because I have escaped, doesn't mean I'm fully free.

A sob works its way up my throat and then I'm crying in front of this man once again. He doesn't seem to mind, he has more patience than any man I've met in my life. He doesn't look ready to hit me for taking too long to answer, he doesn't look ready to punish me.

If anything he looks worried.

I wipe under my eyes as I sit up on the bed. The man moves his hand out to touch me and help me lift myself, but it causes so much panic to flare up in my chest that I just end up screaming.

I scream and cry and throw my hands up telling him to stay away from him. Telling him to keep his hands off me.

He raises his arms, pulling his hands away from my body, and putting them up in the air.

It doesn't really help. I'm still frantic and can't seem to get a hold on my emotions. My cries keep coming as I curl myself up into a ball, as I return to a position that brought me comfort in my years of captivity.

I fist the sheets in my hands as my knees press to my chest. I can't think straight and even though I know this man helped save me, helped get me away, I still have no clue who he is, what he's done, where the fuck I am.

And my body knows this.

So when all of a sudden there is a woman walking through the door, her eyes wide as she looks from the man to me, back and forth three times before she comes to sit on the edge of the bed, it brings me a bit of comfort.

She holds her hand out, almost like she was going to pet a dog, and then she's cradling my face. Her fingers smooth over my cheek and hair, soothing another sob ready to overtake me. She's humming something and looking down on me, watching as my body slowly starts to relax, as my eyes slowly begin to drift closed, and as my mind goes back to sleep.

She watches as I try to find a little bit of peace.

***

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