Investigations
Dark memories resurfaced from the depths, polluting my dreams that night and the following week. The progress I had made under Philipp’s guidance crumbled at my Keyholder’s carefree reaction to my heritage. Now, when sleep took me, my former handler marched into my world, his breath reeking of Kebaps as he stripped away all of my protection. Then faceless males would ravage my body, spotlights emphasizing every second for the cameras.
Of course Henning would think of Döner Kebaps, once I mentioned I was Turkish. Anyone would. He had no idea what the thought of those wraps did to me, how I had started walking a longer path to the grocery store so I would not have to see that stand beside the laundromat. I had to shoulder this burden alone, because it made no rational sense.
