“Wake up,” he says, his voice cold, seconds before something even colder slams me in the face. I sputter, my chest on fire. He’s spraying me with the hose. Violently coughing, I force the water back out of my lungs, trying to turn away, but he won’t let me move. Grabbing ahold of my face, he forces something past my lips, into my mouth. Pills, I realize, as I gnash my teeth, bitterness coating my tongue. Too many pills. He pours them right from a little orange bottle, still spraying me in the face, before dropping the hose, forcing my jaw shut and pinching my nose closed as he demands, “Swallow.”
I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to. I fight him as he yanks me upright by my hair, but I can’t breathe, my chest convulsing. The pills slide down my throat, my ears clogging from the pressure as tears stream from my eyes. Satisfied, he shoves me back against the grate, standing up to shut off the hose.
Rolling onto my side, I start heaving, forcing myself to empty my stomach.
“Throw them up if you want,” Kassian says, his voice calm, “but you will regret it once the adrenaline wears off.”
I ignore him, purging as much as I can, but exhaustion gets the best of me, and whatever he forced down my throat works quickly. Parts of me are tingling as numbness takes over my body. I lay down, curling up, shivering from the cold as my eyes fight to close.
“I hate you,” I whisper, my voice cracking around those words.
Kassian crouches down in front of me, pushing my damp hair away from my face. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say. “You’ll never break me.”
“Oh, but I will,” he says. “You see, pretty girl, I have realized something. Being a mother is the most important thing to you. So while death would not break you, taking your daughter away will.”
“You already took her,” I whisper, my voice sluggish. It’s getting hard to stay awake, hard to keep my eyes open.
“I merely separated the two of you,” he says, reaching into his pocket, once more pulling out his phone. He presses a few buttons before holding it up, a picture of her covering the screen, a still from the paused video he played earlier. “She is beautiful, huh? So much like you, that girl. More like you than you even think, because she has not broken, either, when I have given her more than enough reason to. She hides from me. She runs away. She lies right to my face. And I know, despite what she says, she does not love me. She hates me, just as you do.”
I stare at the picture through blurry eyes, a flicker of a smile on my lips as I whisper, “That’s my girl.”
“Yes, she is your girl,” Kassian says, putting the phone away as he stands back up. “Pity I have to kill her for it.”
As soon as those words hit me, I shove away from the floor, trying to sit up, but the room is spinning… spinning… spinning… and I can’t stomach it anymore. I heave again, my tears coming down harder as I choke on a sob, collapsing back onto the grate. I try to scream. I try to talk. I need him to tell me he doesn’t mean that, I need him to take it back, but before I can find any words, he’s gone.
Darkness creeps up on me when I hear the basement door close. All I can think, as it sweeps me away, is ‘this is all my fault.’
In and out. In and out.
The darkness doesn’t completely fade, refusing to release its grip on me, as I lay here, wasting away. Brief flickers of lights, the hollow sound of voices, as people come and go, more pills shoved down my throat, the cycle repeating.
I go to my happy place.
I cling to it, like it’s all that exists.
I have to believe it’s still possible, that the world I love is still out there, waiting for me to find it again.
I have to believe that she’s out there.
That she’s okay.
That I’ll find my way out of this basement.
That we’ll find peace together after this is over.
That some fairy tales can have happy endings.
I’m not sure when things change, but slowly, the darkness loosens its hold, the numbness fading as the pills wear off. And the first thing I notice, when I’m conscious enough to move, is that I’m lying on a mattress.
The mattress I never wanted.
The one I refused to ask for.
It’s in the center of the basement, full-sized and soft. Memory foam, maybe. No sheets, but there is a pillow, and I’m once again covered by a blanket, like someone tucked me in. What the hell? My heart races as I sit up, groggy, blinking to try to clear my blurry vision. My eyes burn. Every inch of me hurts, but I don’t think anything is broken.
Except my sanity, maybe.
I try to swallow, my throat raw, but my mouth is too dry. My tongue feels swollen. I feel around cautiously, shaky hands exploring my face. I don’t know what I’m looking for... deformities, maybe? Nothing feels real.
I’m okay, though. I think.
Sickness swishes around inside of me. When’s the last time I ate? When’s the last time I did anything? I don’t even know what day it is. How long has this been going on?
Why the fuck is there a mattress here now?
The basement door opens as I try to get a grip. I pull the blanket around me tighter, alarmed, like the flimsy material can shield me from harm. The overhead lights flick on, and I wince, hearing footsteps on the stairs coming closer. I expect to see Kassian when I peek over, but instead I’m met with the guarded look of a curious brunette. Alexis.
She clutches a brown paper bag as she approaches.
My stomach clenches at the sight.
“Are you hungry?” she asks, holding the bag out. “I brought you something to eat.”
I just stare at her.
My head is pounding.
Frowning, she opens the bag, reaching inside of it, pulling out the contents: a piroshki wrapped in plastic, a small container of pickled cabbage, and a bottle of water. It isn’t hard to tell who packed this lunch, and it wasn’t the young American girl in front of me.
I pick up the bottle of water, cracking the lid and slowly sipping it.
I expect her to leave, but Alexis just stands there, fidgeting nervously as she glances behind her. After a moment, she sits down on the edge of the mattress. “Are you holding up okay down here?”
I look away from her, sipping more water. “I’m alive.”
“I’m glad,” she says. “And don’t worry, it’s going to be okay.”
She sounds like she believes that, but what does she know? Nothing. She lives her life at Kassian’s mercy just like the rest of us.
“What day is it?” I ask, taking one more sip of water before screwing the cap back on.
“It’s Thursday morning,” she says. “You’ve been here almost a week now.”
Before either of us can say anything else, there’s noise on the stairs, more footsteps approaching. Alexis jumps to her feet, averting her eyes from mine as she heads out of the basement. I watch her dart up the stairs, my gaze stalling when it reaches him coming down.
Kassian.
I eye him warily as he approaches, his steps leisure, like he’s got not a care in the world. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his black slacks, his suit fresh and crisp, his shoes shining under the bright basement light. He looks completely put together… all except for the scratches on his face. Gashes mar his jawline, his cheek, before running down his neck. They still look enflamed, swollen, the skin glowing pink.
I look down at my hands, seeing the blood and filth caked under my nails.
Guess that was me.