He took his hand out of his pocket and pointed to the gazebo. “Right over there is where my mother used to stand, watching him drown me.” He dropped his hand back down.
I swallowed, remembering all Devil had told me weeks ago. “Why?”
“I was stubborn. I lied a lot. Kept things from him. Spoke English to him. Forgot something he told me I shouldn’t forget. Did something other than what he wanted,” he said, taking his other hand out of his pocket as he began to undo his cufflinks slowly. “He called it baptism. Whenever I did any of those things, he would call me a sinner and bring me here. And I would beg him, pathetically. I thought maybe this time he’d listen; he’d show mercy and let me off with just a warning. But he never did.”
He slipped the first cufflink into his pocket, proceeding to undo the second one. “I would shout, but then, he’d dip my head under the water, cutting me off; I would fight, but he wouldn’t let me go; I’d run out of air, and he would keep his hold firm. He did it until I would drown, and then he’d pump my chest until I woke up.” He slid the second cufflink inside his second pocket and began rolling up his sleeves.
“When he wasn’t satisfied with the lesson, he’d do it again. The feeling of fear… of dying, the number of times he made me feel it, had me defying him at every turn… just so he would bring me here and do it again. Just so I could revel in the dazed look my mother would give us. Just so I could imagine what it would feel like to just—watch.”
He turned to me. “But more than anything, I wanted to know how it felt to be the one doing the drowning. I wanted to be the one pushing my head under the water. I didn’t know why at that time, but now I do.”
“Because you’re a sick fucker who needs serious medical attention?”
“Part of the reason.”
I took another step back, and he took one forward.
“The real reason was the relief of knowing that I would lose consciousness. I found that the better version of myself is when I can’t be myself. When I get to escape, even for a few minutes.” He sighed. “And my mother… after it all, she’d hold me, and take care of me, but I could always tell she waited eagerly for the next time we’d take another visit to the pool. She loved to watch it. Me drowning… but soon I found myself waiting eagerly as well.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“She was sick. It’s hard to blame her.”
“Oh, so it’s genetic,” I said, stepping back.
“Hm.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because you’re a sinner, like me.” He took one step towardsme, and I took two back. “In clearer words, Zahra, because you’re about to die.”
I stood still, and it felt like everything paused around us for a moment.
We watched each other, and he waited for me to make the first move. It was bait. But it meant two things: I either fall for the bait and survive to see another day or put up a fight and die by his hands.
I chose the first option, turned, and bolted down the curved corner of the pool. I should have known there was a problem when the guards didn’t make a move to even stop me.
Running from him was stupid, a guaranteed failure, but I still attempted it.
I reached the only exit door and tried to open it, but it didn’t budge.
“Fuck.”
I looked behind me to see him walking towards me like he had all the time in the world, calm and collected. “No cameras, no rules, no helper… it’s just you and me now, Sport.”
I looked around me. This was an open area, which was well fenced with bushes around. There was a building there, but the only way to enter it was through the exit doors and the window.
I rushed to the window and tried to pull it up.
“Locked.” Elio’s taunting voice reached my ears again.
It was made of glass; if I could punch a hole through and reach the lock—
“You can’t break it.” His voice rang out as if he were in my head.
I swallowed, feeling sweat bead on my forehead.
The fence.
