Authors: D. S. Wrights
Tags: #Abuse, #Adult, #Dark, #Erotica, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Horror, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Science Fiction
Four days to go.
I think actually knowing that I won’t get to see him for some days just makes me feel worse. I should have seen the positive about it; like that I know when I will see him again. But then: who knows? Where’s the guarantee?
Still, I don’t feel very well, so I passed the offer to go training, this time more friendly. It was a stupid idea because I would have at least gotten out of my room.
Peter asked me if I’d like to have a walk around, as he came to get my tray from Lunch. I really believed that he was kidding and barked at him that this wasn’t funny. But he didn’t chuckle or laugh. He really meant it.
I’m still not sure if there won’t be any consequences. So we went for a walk, just him and me. Not outside, of course. Not after being here just for 49 days. It feels like I’ve been here for months, or years.
We didn’t talk, which was kind of relieving, though ironically one might have thought that after being on your own for days you might want to talk to anyone. Yet, I can’t really trust him, can I? He just would report anything to White.
We walked from my room to my cell – the place of my first days here, which seemed like such a long time ago, almost like a different life. And still the memories flashed back. It seems so strange that I feel so different now.
We went past the gym and I can quite recall that path.
I think that this was just because of White not being here. I didn’t see anyone in the corridors, but I could memorize the way and tried to calculate the actual length of this building into that direction. Maybe we can repeat that tomorrow. I didn’t ask Peter, but... who knows.
I’m insanely tired.
Two days. Then this week is over. It feels so long gone already. Today wasn’t boring. I’m back in my rhythm, in my daily schedule, apart from, well... my ‘sessions’ of course. I wonder what Jay’s days are like, what this week is like for him, what he has to do. I felt kind of guilty for not thinking about him, which is stupid of course.
I have to admit that it’s nice talking to Peter. It’s like no one else is around, which is something I should be worried around, right? At Lunch I asked him if he wanted to eat Dinner with me, keep me company if he has to look after me anyway, he doesn’t have to stand the whole day in front of my door, right?
Still, I feel bad about even asking, like I am betraying Jay, or even worse: myself. Or is it my paranoia, I am betraying? It’s not like only because I’m offering Peter to sit at my table – this second chair is still mine, even though White apparently has intended that one to be his – that I completely trust him. I can make that offer with an awake mind. He is nice, I like having company because it is a difference, nothing more. If they read more into my gesture, it is their fault, not mine, and if that puts me in an advantageous position, even better.
And all of a sudden a simple question is overthought. That truly is paranoia. I’m done with it.
Peter brought his own dinner along with mine. We didn’t talk about his work or my... obligations, but about other stuff. It was like, yes, being awkward teenagers, who had been put together by their parents because they were the only ones around the same age. But it was nice.
You know, those were random things we talked about: if I liked those paintings White had brought me... and at that moment I really looked at them for the first time. Until then I had only noticed them as colorful spots on my walls. I realized that there is one painting by Van Gogh, and one by Monet. I like art, especially that kind of art, and we talked about it for a bit.
All of these are rather classics, but I like them. It’s van Gogh’s ‘night sky’, like ‘water lilies’ of Monet.
“Well, they bring color to this place”, I simply stated, but now I cannot stop staring at them, and notice how much they display my own emotions, my longing, my dreaming, this feeling of being lost and alone, and still finding beauty in the darkness and the simplicity of my life.
We didn’t go for a walk today, but I told him that I really appreciated it.
“Maybe we can put that into your schedule”, Peter answered much to my surprise; I hadn’t realized that he was able to make changes, and it admittedly made me feel a bit uneasy, like I had underestimated his influence
Welcome back paranoia.
“It’s not like you’ve done anything that you don’t deserve something like a little promotion.”
He can smile really warmly. It keeps me wondering, why such a nice, good looking guy like him ends up being a soldier, or – I don’t know – an associate of such a thing, organization or whatever... like this.
Questions keep popping up in my mind. I want to ask him so many things, but I don’t dare to. I guess it’s better that I don’t befriend him, but then he makes me feel comfortable, normal, like being a human being and not a subject, some object of their experiment to... well... release its sexual tension. But that’s what I’m here for.
Nothing interesting happened today. And tomorrow will be the day I see him again.
It’s not like nothing happened, but you know what I mean, right? It was a normal day. Normal as it can be. I mean: my normal session-free schedule. No walking around, but my meals with Peter. Normal. Not really, I know, because I spend my meals with him now, and it still feels like betrayal, it still feels like something I should not to. It feels so totally normal – apart from being locked away in a white room, only having one outfit to wear like I am a patient in a mental institution. I’ve written that before. It still feels like it, even though I am not insane.
That’s one upside of my diary: it’s the 51st day of me being here. I was abducted, imprisoned, shackled, left to be... abused by someone...
It’s strange what one week without that can do. Is time running faster or slower? I really don’t know. I mean, I know what I’m here for and yet again it seems so far away, even though it has been just a week, not even a whole one. Tomorrow it will be over, tomorrow.
Seeing Jay had been everything my life had circled around for more than a month, almost two.
It was the only difference of the day I got and I... I liked it... did I? I mean, it is just a week, how can I feel different about it?
Do I, because of Peter?
No. I know that I don’t want to stay here, I know that I want to leave and go back home, even though I don’t have a real home, I live between my parents' places. I had lived like that until my own life was about to change in college. That never happened.
I know that I want my life back, that I want a life, a normal, boring, average life, everything seems... strange. But this silly phrase is so fitting: you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it.. In my case I realized what I could have had, if I only had appreciated my chance. If I had made friends fast, if I at least had tried, people would have known me, there would have been a chance that they would have noticed that I was gone. And maybe I never would have been taken, if only I would have tried, if only I wouldn’t have given in to my self-pity.
Most things you learn too late.
I mean... do I appreciate Jay? Do I miss him? I think I do. I think, I’m rather worried, which is stupid... I know more about Peter after a few days than I know about Jay, but can I trust Peter?
I catch myself staring at the painting. The night sky painting of van Gogh – I’m not even sure if this is the right name, but... I think I miss him, Jay. I feel with every day that passes by, when I don’t see him, all that has happened vanishes into the distance, like it has been a bad dream, or a very disturbed good one. Even though I am still here in that white room with a few of my books, my iPod on its station, and these two paintings next to my door. Still, I feel almost like these things hadn’t happened. The human mind is a strange and wonderful thing.
There are people who like what happened to me, who like being put through things like that. I mean they choose to be blindfolded, to be shackled, and to be fucked. They enjoy the terror, the imprisonment, the pain.
Do I too? Do I miss that?
I know that I have never enjoyed it so much, ever before. I never felt someone wanting me as much as Jay wants me. Do I like that? Do I miss him pining over me? I think I do. But is that the only thing about him I really like? Is this what consumes me about him? Do I flee into that fantasy and pretend I like it because I am so terrified by it? Or do I really, like truly, want this?
I don’t know if I should be worried or not, concerned or not, frightened or not. I’ve re-read it. Just to be sure. White told me that “starting tomorrow you won’t have to see him for a week”. That was on day 45. That was eight days ago, not seven, but eight. And it didn’t happen. It’s evening now. I’ve gotten my Breakfast, my workout, my Lunch, a second workout, and now my Dinner.
You can’t imagine how I jumped as Peter opened the door this afternoon and how confused, I was when he brought me to the training room. I think he noticed that. He acted strange or maybe it was because I acted strange. I mean... I’ve got mixed feelings about this. It’s okay to have mixed feelings right? On the one hand, I don’t want to go back to that, to waiting for my ‘sessions’, I mean: not mine,
he
is with me... even thinking about this is awkward now. I’d rather talk to Peter.
But I’m not stupid. I know why I am here. On the other hand, I’m worried. Yes, I am worried about Ten, Jay, how I named him.
I gave him a name, to make him more human, at least for me. But what if he’s really less? What if he is in fact a cougar formed into a human like I described it?
I know I shouldn’t have read my own stuff, but I had to know if I had gotten it wrong. I didn’t. It has been eight days. Are they punishing him?
I doubt that they punish me. I didn’t do anything wrong and Peter is still here.
What if he’s hurt? What if... what if he’s dead? He can’t be because... I would be too, right? Or... they wouldn’t kill me, would they? Would they put me to another one? Jay picked me, he chose me. They wouldn’t just... I can’t do this anymore. I need to escape. I need to find a way out.
Can I leave him behind? Don’t be stupid. How? I mean, isn’t he a threat? My scars remind me. They’ve healed better, much better than I have expected. It’s because of their science. I mean, they are experimenting with DNA right? Obviously, Jay’s the proof.
And what else could it be? So of course they can treat wounds better, right? Jay isn’t some freak evolution of nature, is he?
What if... and they are not... they are not experimenting with me too, are they? I don’t get injections, but my food... it doesn’t taste funny, so... but I wouldn’t taste the difference, would I?
Oh God, I can’t sleep. I’m going crazy.
It’s not like I have been imprisoned for years. It’s just... almost eight weeks... and I’m fine. I’m being looked after. I’ve got everything I need, apart from a life.
Nothing today. Like absolutely nothing. Apart from my meals, yes, my workout, TWICE, yes, but now there wasn’t even Peter.
What’s coming next?
Are they going to take away my books, my music, my paintings?
There is no reason. I should keep calm.
This isn’t about me. This is about him: their Ten, my Jay. Ugh, not mine, but... is it insane that I worry?
I asked for White. He isn’t there. I really knocked and the door really was opened. Now, after that, I realized that the one I spoke to was one of the gropers, which explains the way he looked at me. But this room seems to be safe. So I guess I can take that as a proof that there are cameras in here.
No, I am not freaking out about this, because it says that this room is safe. They won’t come in here to force me. It also says that Peter and I having conversations and spending my meals together is okay too, or else he would have been gone earlier. I am not freaking out. Freaking out won’t help me.
There is no way to open that vent without hurting my fingers and bleeding fingers would expose me trying it. That means I have to find a way to get something that will help me screwing it open. But how if not making them suspicious? Taking a knife from a meal with me, would they notice? As long as I eat alone there might be a chance, but it would make them suspicious watching me go to my bathroom with a knife. Is there also a camera in there? Please, no. I shouldn’t even write this, right? You are reading this, White, right?
Where is he?
Where is anyone?
Why does no one tell me anything?
Am I so unimportant?
I... I don’t even know where to start. I’m not sure if I worry more about myself or him. Okay, he’s... being without him for so many days, now everything that has happened just seems different. When I read through what I’ve written, I really can’t recall feeling like that now. It’s almost like I wasn’t myself. And still there is something missing. I don’t know how else to put it. It’s not my normal, dull life, not like this is actually better, I feel like my IQ drops with each day... I think I miss him. I think I miss Jay.
This is... I can’t...
I’m so upset... and terrified... I just spend endless minutes beneath the shower... I think this is what real panic feels like... I don’t know what to do... everything is a mess... everything is ruined... I don’t know what will happen... I don’t know if I get another chance or if they will come and... kill me... I just... I can’t write now, I can’t think now, I can’t even breathe.
I want to sleep, but I can’t close my eyes. I hear my breathing in my head, and the beating of my heart. They left me alone. I am all alone again. And it’s even worse. I don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to expect. I don’t even... I think I wouldn’t mind if they came to kill me. At least then it would be over.
I lay awake for hours. I can’t tell what time it is but I guess it has to be past midnight, so well, yeah, technically a new day. Maybe this will be my final entry, so it counts; I have to at least write something, right?
Yesterday I felt so miserable. Not because nothing happened again. I can’t really tell why. Like I said I don’t want to see Jay again and I do. I don’t want to stay here, but... I do. The worst thing is this uncertainty, this lack of purpose and that hasn’t been different from my normal life, my former life out there, in the last few days. None of this seems important right now, because... I was so stupid.
You know, it was one of the gropers again, who brought me my food, my Breakfast and my Lunch. Same schedule, with no one talking or even smiling at me.
No Peter.
And then, suddenly at Lunchtime: a knock. First I thought it would be White, which already seemed to be a relief for me. But it was Peter bringing my food and carrying a bag for him, as if nothing had happened. You cannot imagine how happy I was to see him. He has been so nice to me, I could talk to him. I made him smile. He made me smile so... I was so happy that I hugged him. I mean, one can hug a friend. There’s nothing to it, right?
I didn’t know. Honestly. I didn’t have any clue.
Seriously, never, I mean, I was never... I’m not the kind of girl being used to that. It’s not like no boy ever liked me in my life, but still... it happened so quickly.
He kissed me. Peter kissed me... and I think I kissed him back. It... it just happened. I literally felt butterflies and dizzy as he pulled away, looking at me with those beautiful warm eyes. He let go of me much too quickly.
“I’m sorry”, he stammered. “I shouldn’t. I just... missed you.”
I didn’t know. I never thought that he would feel like that, so quickly. I’m not special. I’m average.
I don’t know what I was thinking, but I kissed him. I grabbed him and pulled him back to me. Just briefly, but still I did it. I don’t know how to explain this. Or why I never thought that this wasn’t just... Why didn’t I doubt any of it? Did I want to believe that he meant what he said? Or did I really believe him because I felt he meant it?
I asked him if he would sit down with me and we ate together, grinning like fools. And now... I feel like such a stupid, stupid, naïve, blind idiot.
Of course he couldn’t tell me where he had been, still I asked. Peter told me that he was home one day, but he didn’t seem like wanting to talk about it.
I barely was finished with my meal when the door was pushed further open and Gray stood there.
“Schedule change”, he just said.
Of course I didn’t think that this was concerning me, but Peter jumped up and looked at me. I can’t really say what his face was saying, I just can’t remember. I can’t tell if he was shocked, freaking out, worried, or calm and smirking. I just know that they both looked at me and my heart... it was just gone.
This was White. I swear. Cameras, there have to be cameras in my room.
They took me.
“No”, was all I heard Gray say before he shoved me into the cage and at the same moment the door behind me was closed the gate already was opened.
It happened so fast and my mind was already doing backflips on the way, only regaining its ability to function when I found myself there: in Jay’s cage.
I felt like being two persons in one. I don’t feel like that anymore, but it was so confusing. I was scared as hell and so endlessly happy to see him again. Going there meant that he was alive, and going there meant to be away from Peter. This was just so wrong.
In that moment I knew something wasn’t right, something was different and I was so scared. Maybe even more than the first time they shackled me there. But now this cage was in complete silence and I was free to walk around, clothed. I knew he was there, lurking in the dark corners of this room.
My eyes didn’t get the chance to get used to the dim light because the air was already pushed from my lungs as I was smacked against the wall behind me.
The back of my head still hurts.
Out of nowhere he just pushed me against the wall and I can’t really tell if he hurt me on purpose or accident. All I know was that he was... angry.
Out of nowhere, his clawed hand at my throat, like he didn’t recognize me. Like I was one of the others before me, I thought, even though I don’t know if there had been any, but like I didn’t mean anything.
Until I realized... he sniffed and I knew. I smelled different. He smelled Peter. And he snarled at me. He must have sensed that there was something wrong the moment I was in that cage with him.
There was no way swallowing down the knot in my throat, because it was too huge and his grip was so tight.
My larynx just didn’t get past his palm. Despite the tears burning down my cheeks, which still are fleeing my eyes as I write now... I wasn’t scared. Not really.
I betrayed him.
He had and has every reason to be mad at me.
Why the hell am I writing this?
I mean it’s his point of view that I understand. In his eyes, I was his, he had even told me that. And now, after not seeing me for so long I smelled of someone else.
What was I thinking? White had made it totally clear why I was here.
His face was so close that I could feel his hot breath, rolling down my skin, too close that I could look at his face, his eyes. I could hear the cracking of the speaker, but somehow I managed to bring up one hand, facing my palm to the window White definitely was looking through. As I tried to touch him, he snarled at me, making my hair stand up straight. But he didn’t move away, even though his breath turned shallow as if he tried to avoid this foreign smell. He wouldn’t bite me, he’s not an animal.
“I’m sorry”, I managed to say inaudibly, because I barely had enough breath to push out the words without any sound.
Still – in my suffocated mind – I hoped that he would forgive me, I hoped that he would use his anger against me in a different way... I hoped by claiming me it would be alright again.
I did him wrong. I am so stupid. I’m such a pathetic, small-minded, shallow person.
Talking about him being human and then expecting that he would do me and it would be okay, like an animal probably would do, like a low-minded moron would do. Instead, he tossed me away like a doll, smacked me against the door, he had once tried to tear down, to hurt the ones who had hurt me.
I deserve it.
No, Peter wasn’t punished; he was the one to bring me back. And I know that this was another punishment for me. Yet, Jay’s painful disappointment did hurt so much more.
How did Peter bringing me back to my room make me feel? I really don’t know. He was on the outside of my numb shell and inside the shame and guilt and loss was fuming. I couldn’t and wouldn’t fall into his arms and cry. Not even as he actually brought me into my room, looking like he really wanted to offer me consolation. I tried to stay strong, and numb, and away.
Like I wrote before I showered for an eternity. I don’t want to smell like anything ever again.
By the way: lights are on. No Breakfast, yet. I’m not hungry anyhow.