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Once in a while, if I’m lucky, a bucket of water is sent down so I can clean myself. On those rare occasions, I also get a change of clothes.
The clothes are never my size and always have a distinct smell to them, which only makes me feel dirty all over again. They want to break me with their words until I am nothing, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction. At night, as I lie my head on the soiled mattress with springs poking out while wrapped up in a worn blanket, I hug my pillow, thinking of my life before all of this.
“Was that really fucking necessary?” I growl, unable to hold back my anger a second longer as I look up to the only place allowing light into my darkness—the entrance to my own personal hell. I held onto hope in the beginning that Enzo would come and save me, but after so long of dealing with this shit, that dream has slipped away. I know if he was coming, he already would have, and for some reason, the thought only stokes the fire to get out of this fucking hole that much more.
“Was it needed?” he mocks, laughing down at me, his voice making me want to vomit. “Of course, it was needed. Your stupid ass wouldn’t wake up.” I clench my fists, digging my nails into the dirt-covered ground to the point of pain. But I don’t whimper. I don’t even wince. The point of this hole is to shatter me until I no longer recognize the person I once was. Make me break. Make me forget about my life outside of this place. What they didn’t take into account was, instead of it breaking me, it built me up. It made me stronger.
“Weird, I didn’t hear you say wake up. All I heard was you call me a stupid bitch. Clearly, you’re the bitch, but you do know you are also the stupid fucking one, right?” I narrow my eyes, locking my own with his. His mask is firmly in place, figuratively and literally, but I can tell that one day I am going to push him just enough to reveal himself.
I watch as he throws the bucket down, dirt swirling around in the air as it lands by my feet. The water that hasn’t sunk into the dirt yet flings up once more, splashing over my legs and the dirt walls.
“You’re lucky the boss wants you alive; otherwise, I would’ve fucked that pretty pussy already. Then I would’ve slit your throat and watched you bleed out.” Somehow, I manage not to cringe, not even a tiny bit. I remain completely unfazed by his need to instill fear in me. I’m not scared of them. I know I should be, and there is probably something seriously fucked up in my brain, or I would be.
I force a smile. “You’re stupid because when Enzo comes for me, you’ll be running for the fucking hills.” I’m not sure why I say it, even I don’t think he is coming anymore. Still, maybe, just maybe, this guy believes me.
“Listen up, bitch. Whenever he comes for you, which he won’t, it will be to kill you. Have you forgotten you’re the enemy in his eyes?” He’s mocking me. His eyes promise all kinds of things, and I know, if he ever gets his hands on me, he will try something.
Enzo won’t kill me. I know he won’t. He is an evil man that has killed countless people, people who may or may not have deserved to die, but he wouldn’t kill me.
He is dark, cruel, and sometimes I hate him… but something inside of me loves him, too. Something inside me tells me he is still the same person who held me every night as I cried because I lost my mother. Something inside of me doesn’t allow me to believe he would do such things.
“You know nothing about Enzo.”
“I know he has more blood on his hands than anyone I know. I know he’s vindictive and willing to do anything in his power to seek revenge. I know, no matter what you think or want to believe, he isn’t coming for you. I know he doesn’t love you, and it was all a game—”
“Stop.”
“Why? Because you know it’s true, and it might actually pull you from whatever delusional place you are in your head? Enzo hates you. You are nothing more than his enemy.”
Instead of luring myself into a deeper conversation, where he would make me feel like I was beating my head against rocks, I simply zip my lips. Allowing what he said to bother me would just bring more self-doubt, and given the situation I am in, it is the last thing I need.
Unfortunately, my silence doesn’t stop the jerk from taunting me further.
