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I take a bite from the bread. It’s hard, but I am so hungry it tastes good enough for me. I fill my glass with water and pretend the bread is pizza. It tastes even better when I think like that. I eat as slowly as I can. When my first slice of bread is gone I stare at the second slice. I want to eat it, but I don’t want to be hungry tomorrow like I was today. Being hungry hurts my tummy, it makes strange noises when it’s empty. Now, those noises stopped and it doesn’t hurt anymore.
Grabbing the brown paper bag again, I wrap it around my last slice of bread. I will eat this when my tummy starts to hurt again. I put my glass in the sink and go to the couch to sleep. If I sleep I will not get hungry so soon.
January 20, 2014–Day 4
I wondered whether he would kill me.
Everything hurt me, especially when I was that weak. My face and my back were in pain because of his punishment. The hunger and thirst dig their nails on my body and my mind. But the real pain was in my soul. The thought of not seeing Dawn again crashed my heart.
I hoped he would kill me. But then the thought gave me shudders. No matter how much I hated my situation the instinct to stay alive was so strong. My heart hurt for Dawn. I wondered how she was doing for the hundredth time since I was here. I hoped she could find me, but mostly I hoped she wasn't devastated with my disappearance in case I died here.
I couldn’t help but feeling guilty for the situation I got myself into, for leaving Dawn alone, for disappointing my parents. I was adopted, I knew, but the people I grew up with were my family. The sorrow of their loss was on Dawn and me, and now she was experiencing another loss in her life, because of me.
I couldn’t breathe. I tried to pull my hands free again, but it only hurt me. Waiting on this bed, naked, filthy, humiliated, and totally at his mercy was messing with my head. I didn’t even know what was waiting for me.
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this,” I chanted over and over again. Tears wetted my face. The skin on my wrists broke, blood started to drip over my forearms. My mantra turned into sobs, my body shook like I was having some kind of seizure.
When I could finally calm down, my body was beat. I didn’t know if I passed out or not, but when my senses came back to me I heard the door open.
“Look, what I brought for you,” Mike said, coming closer to the bed. He was holding a glass of water and I almost sobbed in happiness.
I was ready to do anything to get some water and this thought only disgusted me. I wished I was stronger to be able to hope for death instead of staying alive.
Last time the relief from pain cost me my pride –I had to say please to that monster. What would some water cost me? What about staying alive? What would I have to do for making out alive from all this?
And the worst, what was I willing to sacrifice to stay alive?
Closing my eyes I schooled my emotions and tried to keep them in check. Mike was watching me with a smile on his face, “How are you feeling, today?”
“I’m thirsty,” I whispered, didn’t want to anger him with lack of response.
“Oh, look at my little Angel, such a good girl,” he cooed, coming closer to me.
He caressed my hair, lovingly, “You must be hungry, too.”
I nodded.
“First, you need to get cleaned up, Cupcake. You stink,” he said, disgusted and amused at the same time. I felt like trash –filthy and useless, I wanted to feel like a human again.
“If you want water, you won’t cause me any trouble as I clean you up, okay?” he warned me. No matter how sweet his voice sounded it was wrapped around a steel and I didn’t dare to do anything. This was the most normal thing I could get during my captive.
He untied my legs first, in total silence. I was afraid of doing something wrong and he would take away my water. Depend on my fear about the possible cost of the water, not causing a trouble was the least I could do.
The human psyche was a strange thing. If we were asked, we could have listed a lot of things as necessary, like they were the things we couldn’t give up. But when it came to a situation like this we all turned animalistic –all we cared about were water and food in the end.
When he finally untied my hands, I was free, but even freedom didn’t mean anything to me at this point. All I wanted was to be a good girl for him so I could drink water and maybe, if I was lucky enough, eat something. If someone told me this just a week ago, I knew I would’ve fight against it with fire. Freedom was one of the most important things to me in life, but after four days in this room, I wasn’t so sure of it… being alive seemed more important.
He lifted me from the bed, causing me to groan with pain.
“Let’s put you on that chair, Cupcake. You seem like you’ll fell,” he said, guiding me to wooden chair.
I just nodded.
“You seem so eager, Cupcake,” he chuckled.
I didn’t make eye contact with him, but as I sat on the chair I winced because of pain. My back was hurting because of his assault.
“Let’s deal with your pain, first,” he said, bringing out a syringe from his back pocket. I should have been horrified that he would take away my consciousness, but I was only relieved that this pain, this guilt would leave me. It was sick, it was selfish, but I desired the high one shot could give me.
