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She laughs again, this one with a little more life in it. “We’ll see, Cara. We’ll see.”
* * *
A day passes.Two days. Three, maybe. I'm not sure, I've lost count. They feel endless. Not being able to see outside makes it hard to determine how much time passes. If our bodies weren’t on a schedule, how would we ever know? When you live in a hole, everything is the same.
I get to know Daniella more. She’s a nice girl. Innocent. Living a life in the system makes you hard, and she’s not that. She’s soft with no edges. I feel for her. This will turn her into a different person. I know it will for me.
Someone comes in once a day with a tray of food. It tastes like cardboard. Flavorless, rock hard, and not nearly enough to keep a person going. It also comes with a lukewarm bottle of water that I wouldn’t question drinking except the top is sealed. Even if it weren’t, the thirst I feel makes me wanting to lick the dampness off the walls.
I’m dying.
It’s clear and true. I can’t live this way forever and I don’t know how long I can survive like this. If not physically, mentally. I probably would have found a way to end it if it weren’t for Daniella. She keeps me here and now.
Someone also comes in to take out and empty the shared bucket we go to the bathroom in. It sits in the middle of the room, with me on one side and Daniella on the other. Our chains barely make it to the bucket. I know they do that on purpose.
Besides that, we don’t see anyone. We don’t hear anyone. It’s like life doesn’t exist down here in this darkness. We’re all by ourselves.
Daniella hasn’t felt like talking as much today. I’ve noticed she gets like that. Some hours she’s talkative, and other times it's like she curls in on herself, finding her shell and not coming out. Waves of depression hit her, and I only know that because I’m starting to feel them hit me as well.
I can only imagine… being down here for weeks? My sanity would be completely obliterated.
When the heavy door unlatches, my ears perk up. This isn’t the time of day the strange man comes in with our food or to change the bucket. That brings both excitement and worry, both warring with each other.
I hear the chains on the other end of the room clatter around, Daniella’s interest must be piqued as well.
A light switches on, and my eyes widen. I had no idea there was a light in this fucking place. I didn’t think to even look around. I assumed I was in a cement block, something they dug and cemented on a whim. This place is an actual room. No windows, but the door the man came through has stairs leading up, which means this place is attached to a building of sorts. There’s also a door that I didn’t realize was here, next to the one the man came through.
The man—no, men—stand at the bottom of the stairs. Two men, clad in dark jeans and a t-shirt that spread across their large frames. They look massive, well over six feet with short crew cuts and angry expressions on their faces. But they don’t even look angry, it’s more like their faces are permanently etched with displeasure. Angry sons of bitches with horrible manners.
They each split up, one heading towards me and one heading towards Daniella. Thinking the same thoughts, we both shuffle backwards towards the wall. I wish I could sink into it. Like the wall would open up and swallow me, bringing me somewhere, anywhere else.
No such luck.
I glance at Daniella, and she looks just like I imagined. Short and way too skinny. She looks much younger than seventeen years old. Her sandy blonde hair is matted into a bird’s nest on the top of her head. Her pink tank top looks rusty with how dirty it is, and her sweatpants are wrinkled and wet, nearly falling off of her form.
A key comes out of the man’s pocket, and I want to jump for joy, but the look on his face makes me think I’m going to be anything but free. He bends down, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he looks me over. I can imagine how terrible I look. My hair must be matted, and my clothes are wet and brown from the dirty floor. I’m an absolute disaster.
When the shackles around my ankle falls free, I sigh in relief. My foot feels about ten feet lighter without the heavy, thick chains locking me down. He reaches down, hauling me to my feet by the back of my shirt.
“Where are we going?” I ask him with a tremble to my voice.
He doesn’t answer me, instead just continuing to pull me towards the unknown door. I look over my shoulder and see Daniella in the same position as I am, being manhandled on her way towards the door. I give her a reassuring look, even though I’m feeling anything but.
The man holding me opens up the door—its fucking unlocked—and reveals to look like a bathroom of sorts. Well, not completely. There are no toilets. Only a few lockers and old shower stalls. Everything looks rusted and outdated. It’s clearly been many years since any of these were in use.
When I feel the pull at my clothes, I slam my arms down at my sides and give him a bewildered look. He barely bothers looking at me, instead just continuing to yank at my clothes. I’m no use for his strength. His fingertips dig into my arms when I resist, so aggresively that I whimper, my strength dying on me. My shirt is ripped over my head, and my bra is torn right off my back. I go to cover myself as he yanks off my pants and underwear. I cry silently, looking over at Daniella and see her already staring at me. Her body is gaunt, her bones protruding in the most unnatural way. She looks at me, pleading for help. I shake my head as her image blurs. I don’t know what to do.
He shoves me forward, and suddenly I’m standing underneath a shower head, Daniella standing underneath the nearby one. The man cranks the handle, and the loud protest gives away how unused the shower is. I can hear the pipes groaning as they come to life, the water spluttering a few times before shooting out of the shower head. Rusty water falls on me, and when it finally clears it turns ice cold.
“Ahhhh.” I cry out, trying to move away from it. Big man in front of me grabs me by the breast, pushing me back underneath the water. “P-p-p-please.” My teeth chatter, my entire being shaking so much it feels like I’m seizing.
I hear Daniella sobbing next to me, and I look over at her. The man is groping her breasts, digging his dirty fingers into her skin. She doesn’t protest, doesn’t put up a fight. Just sits there and cries, and I realize her strength is barely there. Her legs shake, and I don’t think it’s from the cold. She’s weak, no fight left in her body.
I bat the man's arm away, who's still holding his hand on my breast while I get pummeled by the cold water. It’s growing warmer, ever so slowly. It’s not nearly as warm as it should be, but at least now it doesn’t feel like a million ice shards are stabbing me by the second.
He doesn’t like that move. With his free hand, he slams his fingers around my neck, squeezing so tight I can feel my eyes bulge. I choke, trying to cough or gag around his hand, but I can’t get a breath. I grab onto his hand with both of mine, pulling, hitting, and slapping at him.
Finally, when the darkness starts playing on the edges of my vision, I’m dropped to the cold ground in a heap of limbs. I let out a gasping sob as I press my face to the ground. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life, so close to death at the hands of a monster.
