2: Contact

672 16 0
                                    

Light blinded me as I was startled awake. The flood of memories from yesterday raged in my brain as my face reeled from pain. I was sore, so sore.  I quickly looked around as an older woman looked at me from across the room.

Where am I? Where did he take me. I looked down, and i was wearing an oversized t-shirt. I was in a bed, a really soft one, and looked to be king-sized. White blankets and gold lined pillows enveloped me. I looked back at the woman who stared in pity.

"Please help me, please. I-I've been kidnapped! You've got to call the police," I begged to her.

"Listen carefully, young lady. You need to be on your best behavior for him. He's already in a bad mood. Just do as he says, " She told me as she approached me.

"Please, you don't get -" I began in desperation, but the woman covered my mouth.

"I know. I can't help you like that. What I can do is get you dressed. Get you looking presentable. Don't piss Mr. Bucceri off," She told me. As she spoke as she ushered me off and into a huge bathroom. Glossy cream colored floors. toward the right was a shower with see-through glass. Enough room to fit 3 people at least.

Directly in front was a huge 2-person tub, and on the left was the sinks. I was led in deeper into the bathroom.  to the left of the tub was a vanity. I sat down in front of it and looked into the mirror, and saw the atrocity that was my face. My right eye was purple and yellow-ish in color. It was a bit swollen at the top of my eye lid, and I could feel the heaviness. My lip was a bit bloodied and also swollen on the right side, bottom lip. My hair was in a mess on my head. My curls were matted and smashed. I looked crazy. My left cheek was red against my brown skin. I teared up as I looked at myself.

"Dont cry, signoria. Now is not the time to cry. We will fix your face," She said softly. She turned me to her and wipped my tears away. I sighed in defeat and closed my eyes. I give up. I just let her do whatever she wanted.

Before, I knew it was I done up and dressed while standing before a mirror. I was dressed in a black lacey lingerie first. Over my undergarments were a pair of black pants, high-waisted, a white blouse, and strappy nude heals. In my hair was a silver headband adorned with rhinestones. I had on a soft red lip stick while the makeup did its magic and hid my bruises, minus the lumps. I looked okay. I looked alive and well kept.

"Stay here, stella," she said as the Italian accent rolled off her tongue.

I hadn't noticed until now that she had one. My mind was elsewhere. I sighed at the image in front of me. Where am I? Why am I here? I walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom to access where I was. The canopy bed was lined with sheer gold curtains. The bed was no longer messy. It was neatly rearranged as if no one had just slept in there. Golden walls with white intricate details making Dimond shaped patterns. A small little living room area with a soft pastel blue couch facing a TV screen and fireplace. I saw the double door the older woman entered through. Her blonde hair flashed in my brain for a moment as I searched for her face to remember. She was nice to me. There were bits of grey hair at her roots. Perfectly manicured hair and nails. Perfectly trimmed eyebrows. crows feet around her eyes and deep set smile lines. Remember her. I don't know her name, though. I never thought to ask.

My nerves had me anxious about watching the door. I gathered all the strength I could to approach. I softly grabbed the golden knob handle. I turned lightly, excited as the handle turned and then locked into place with a small click 

"Fuck!" I said out loud. I was locked inside. The unknown blonde woman mentioned a name, and I cursed myself for not remembering what she said to me. I wasn't sure exactly if he was the man from yesterday. I don't know what he gave me exactly. I was not looking forward to meeting him again or dealing with his anger. How was I going to manage myself around him? How do I play this to my advantage? I can fight or comply, and neither leaves me in the best position. Compliance means trust, and that could open the door for an escape. I'm just not sure how much my safety being alive means to me or what I have to do. I'm not sure what I'm even willing to do.

Beautiful in JadaWhere stories live. Discover now