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“Don’t go to sleep yet. You need to eat and drink something. Just give me a minute and I’ll get you something.” He eyes me, exhaling a ragged breath, looking as if he might be a little frustrated. “You just…don’t move,” he orders, then disappears into the hallway. I take the moment of him being gone to look around the room. It’s a nice, but simple bedroom. There are no pictures or any other personal items, which leads me to believe this is a guest room. It’s got minimal decorations. The bed underneath me is incredibly soft. The quilt he covered me up with is heavy and warm.
He returns a short time later with a plate of food and a glass of milk. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he puts the plate on my lap.
“Eat,” he orders, his eyes moving to the plate. I look down. A cut-up apple with peanut butter smeared on each slice. The effort he took to make it makes me smile. It’s something small, but it’s so much more than I’m used to.
“It’s energy food—exactly what you need right now. You need to build up your strength.”
I almost smile…almost.
I pick up a piece of the apple, noticing how thin and sickly my hand looks. Lifting it to my mouth, the strong aroma of the peanut butter has saliva building in my mouth. My stomach growls, demanding me to eat it even though I don’t want to. I take a small bite and start chewing it thoroughly.
“There you go. You should start to feel a little better after you finish eating. You can take a shower if you want.” He points to a closed door, which I’m guessing is an attached bathroom, then he picks up the glass of milk and hands it to me, urging me to take a drink.
I do what he wants and take a greedy sip. I don’t understand his kindness or why he brought me into this room and gave me food if all I’m to be used for is sex.
“Why…why did you bring me here?” I ask him, feeling uneasy.
“Would you rather go back to the cell?” His response is offensive and makes me realize how much I don’t want to be back inside that cell.
“No…I just don’t understand. Why did you buy me? Aren’t you supposed to be raping me by now? Or beating me, or giving me to some of your rich friends?” I wonder for a moment if this is all a ploy, a dream turned into a nightmare. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
“What the fuck!” he roars, and I move back toward the headboard, trying to put space between us. Fury flickers in his eyes, and I worry for a moment he may hit me. I lift my hands and shield my face.
“First, you think I’m going to rape you, and now, you’re cowering like I’m going to fucking hurt you or something.” I peek through my fingers and see his nostrils flaring. His eyes are still burning with molten lava rage, but it’s obvious he doesn’t plan to hurt me, which is surprising.
“I-I’m s-sorry…” I stutter, lowering my hands, taking in his tense form. “That’s just what they said was going to happen to me when they took me from my home. I thought you were the man who bought me.”
He sighs, running a hand through his thick brown mane. “My brother and I are not the people who took you. The man who took you and wanted to sell you is dead. We took over his business, but we don’t sell woman anymore. That’s why we told you to go back home.”
“I don’t wanna go back home,” I whimper at the thought. I’d rather slit my own wrists than go back to my parents.
“I know, and that’s why you’re here.” I still don’t quite understand why he took me from that cell and brought me here. He has no real reason to care for me, yet he’s letting me stay in what I’m assuming is his house? It makes no sense.
“Is this your home?” I ask, picking up the discarded pieces of apple lying on the quilt from my hasty movements.
“Yes.” His voice is clipped, as if something about me is irritating him. He doesn’t elaborate any further, and for a few moments, an uncomfortable silence forms between us. I keep alternating between taking small bites of apple and small sips of milk until my stomach feels heavy and full.
“I don’t think I can eat anymore,” I admit, lifting my eyes to his. They’re darker now and contain an unreadable emotion.
“That’s fine. You can eat more later.” He takes the plate from me and gets up. He starts to walk out the door, and fear pricks up my spine. The thought of being alone terrifies me, which is strange since I was alone in that cell for what seemed like forever. The feeling sneaks up on me, and I try to push it down as much as I can. I just want to stay numb. I am not ready to feel scared again—or feel anything, for that matter.
