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One
Sometimes you have to look back in order to move forward. Sometimes you find yourself in a situation where that is the only thing you can do, which is exactly what Addison Greyer knew had to be done when she awoke in a hazy fog with something warm and wet trickling down her head. She was disoriented and weak. Where was she?
Before her brain could grasp the answer, she felt herself slip back into sleep. She willed herself to wake up, to open her eyes, but it was of no use. She went in and out several times before finally awaking to what sounded like the clanking of chains. What were those crazy boys doing now? And why was she asleep?
Her head hurt, badly. There was that sound again. Ok, wake up, damn it. Finally, her eyes opened, though just barely. She saw a blurry figure standing a few feet in front of her but was still too disoriented to determine whom it was. The metallic smell of blood overwhelmed her. She could taste it. Was she dreaming? Was she dead? She felt the cold of the concrete below her. Her head felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds, but she forced herself to lift it. She wiggled her toes. She wasn’t dead. Again, she heard the clanking of the chains, which made her head throb worse, and then a male voice. “Wake up,” it demanded.
Who was he? Addie thought, before she felt herself start slipping again. Suddenly she was jolted awake by something slashing her skin. That did it. She opened her eyes just as the leather whip slashed again.
“Wake up, we have to talk.” The voice commanded.
Oh my God. How did I get here?
Addie woke up to her very own version of hell. Looking around the room, she saw that it resembled a dungeon, the kind you might see on TV. The only lighting was a bulb hanging in the far corner of the room. It was cold, dark, and damp. There was a chain around her neck and shackles on both her hands and feet, and she was naked. Scared and alone, she had no idea where she was or knowledge of how she had gotten there. Addie stared at the man with her big blue eyes, vaguely recognizing him, though she couldn’t put a name to the face. Her head was still too foggy. Where were her boys? Shit! Fuck. Where were her kids? She started to sob.
The whip struck her again. She didn’t care. She couldn’t make the sobs quit coming. Struck again and again, she tried to make herself as small as possible. As she crawled into a ball, she felt a tugging on the chain around her neck. She was choking. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to pass out and was powerless to stop it.
The deep voice spoke again. “Look, bitch, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s your choice. I actually prefer the hard way, so keep it up, if you like. Next, come the shocks.”
I’m going to die. Oh God. No, not like this, please. Please, not like this. Ok. Ok, think. Think. Just do what he says. But what does he want?
It took her everything she had to try and pull herself up to a sitting position. Doing the best she could, she propped herself up against the back wall of the cage. She needed to put as much distance as she could between them. Look him in the eye. She wasn’t sure where that thought came from. Perhaps it was some sort of unspoken rule, her survival instincts kicking in.
“Good girl. Goooood girl.” He slurred.
The man sat in a chair opposite the cage and stared at her. Addie didn’t say anything. She just stared back, refusing to take her eyes from his, her mind running a thousand miles a minute. The two of them stayed there that way for what seemed like forever. It could have been minutes or hours, Addie wasn’t sure. Finally, he got up from the chair and ascended what sounded like stairs that were just beyond her line of sight.
He was gone. But when was he coming back? She felt herself slipping back into the fog, and she didn’t fight it. She was so tired, so weak, and she was bleeding. The fog seemed like the only respite she had. It beckoned her. And since he was gone now, she welcomed it.
Addie dreamed she was sitting on the swing watching the boys play with Max. They would run, and he would chase after them. They were laughing, and she could feel the warm sunshine across her face. She felt the breeze blow across her skin. Suddenly, she heard the sound of opera. Why in the world did the sounds of the opera fill her backyard? Suddenly Addie felt her arms and her legs being pulled in opposite directions. Hard. She opened her eyes. She could see that she was being stretched out from opposite ends. It hurt although for some reason the pain was dull—below the surface as though she were barely feeling it. She felt the sting of the whip across her belly followed shortly by the warm blood dripping from where the leather met her skin. That hurt. Ok, she felt that. But why? Addie thought. Why is he doing this? Why me?
“Didn’t I tell you to wake up?” he said. “You disobeyed me. Are you ever going to learn your lesson?”
Addie stared blankly. She did not take her eyes from his.
“You aren’t allowed to sleep.” The man said.
“If I find you sleeping again, the punishment is going to be worse than a whipping. Do you understand?”
Addie said nothing. She saw his hand that contained the whip rise. She shut her eyes just before it struck her across her thighs. It was the sound of the leather hitting her skin that made Addie jolt, made her stomach want to empty its contents. She opened her eyes, continuing to stare in to his. They were brown, so brown it was hard to distinguish whether there was any color at all. They were vacant. Dark, empty. Almost inhuman.
The man was tallish, about 6’2”, if she had to guess, with light brown hair that was thinning. Slightly overweight, he wore dark jeans and a sweater and looked to be in his late 30s or early 40s. His features were sharp, prominent. There was scarring on his face.
“Now, Mrs. Greyer, when I speak to you, you respond.”
Ok, so he knew who she was. This was not some sort of mistake. But she was gagged. How could she respond?
Addie nodded.
