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Mia
Slow breath in.
Blow a long, slow breath out.
Again.
I repeated the words in my mind as I tried to focus on controlling my breathing, instead of on the pain that covered my entire body. For days, I had endured being strung up by my wrists and beaten, left to hang there until I thought my muscles were going to explode then being crammed into the small confines of the dog crate. I had no idea how many days it had been. Time ran together and there was no schedule to my torture. I had no idea if Teo was alive or dead and no way of knowing if anyone would find me.
I was one single person and for all they knew I could be anywhere in the world. It was funny how the world seemed so small with all the technology that we had but yet to really think about one person in all the world really made me feel small and insignificant. The chances of them finding that one person was nearly impossible. I struggled to keep my mind from drifting to darker thoughts. Thoughts of giving in to Andrea's demands. I couldn't do that to my family. I couldn't do that to Teo, but I couldn't stand the torture much longer. He was wearing me down.
My only other option was to hope that Andrea would get tired of dealing with my stubbornness and put me out of my misery. Those were the thoughts that I was most ashamed of. But they were the ones that seemed to creep in more often the longer I was there.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the clinking of keys as someone unlocked the cell door, and I braced myself for what I knew was coming.
Footsteps echoed on the stone floor as they grew near to me, and I tensed, putting up my guard and readying myself for the pain and agony that was to come. The crate door squeaked open, and I held my breath, waiting for the cruel hand to reach inside, grip my hair and yank me out. But it didn't come. For the first time in so many days, it didn't come. The waiting was almost worse.
Andrea's voice came from off in the distance, still within the confines of the cell, but not hovering by the crate door as he usually did. “Come out,” he commanded in a gentle yet firm tone that was unlike his usual cruel lit.
I was hesitant but I didn't want to make him angry, so I slowly forced my aching limbs to move until I finally crawled out of the crate. He sat in a chair on the other side of the cell. His posture was rigid and unyielding. “Crawl to me,” he said with an authoritative tone.
Although my pride wanted me to scoff at such a demeaning order, I had to pick my battles, and I was too weak to earn any extra cruelty. I crawled slowly, wincing in pain as my muscles screamed from being cramped for so many hours. I barely made it to him before collapsing on the floor.
“You have been through so much these past few days. You need a break.” His voice was almost tender which sent alarm bells ringing in my head, though I was too weak to react. “Here, drink.”
He put a water bottle to my lips, but I hesitated. Sometimes the water bottles contain water but other times it was alcohol that clouded my mind and made it harder to fight.
“Drink,” he commanded in a firmer tone. “You haven't had any water in a day and a half. Your muscles are aching because you're dehydrated.”
I tried to lick my dry lips before finally taking the water, but he controlled how much I could drink and only gave me a few sips before pulling it away.
“All this suffering can end. It's not necessary. You can make it all stop,” he spoke tenderly as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “All you have to do is agree to marry me and we can move on. We can get you cleaned up, a nice massage to help ease your muscles, some food perhaps? I know you have to be hungry. You haven't eaten more than a bit of bread in two weeks. You would have fine clothes and gourmet meals with top quality wine, and I would rule both families with you by my side. You are far too lovely to be in a place like this. Will you still deny me? Will you not agree to marry me and make all this suffering stop?”
“Kill me,” I rasped in a weak voice that was hardly a whisper.
“What was that?” he said softly, leaning in a little closer to be able to hear me.
“Kill me, please?” I found a little more strength in my voice as I made up my mind.
He wouldn't let me go. His pride would never allow that but maybe I could gain just enough mercy that he would kill me instead. Andrea gently gripped my chin, tilting my face up so that I would look at him.
The corners of his mouth curled up into a sickening sweet smile. “Now what good would you be to me dead? You will be my wife. Maybe this torture is good for you.”
