chapter 19
332 Words
The light comes on.
I don’t know what time it is.
There are no windows.
Vera is already in the room.
No shoes. No gloves.
Today she has a speaker. Small. Black.
She sets it on the floor. Plugs it in.
"Stand."
My ankle is still chained. Zip ties are off. Fingers purple.
I stand.
She presses play.
Static. Then a voice.
Male. "Please. Please don’t."
My stomach drops.
"Again," Vera says.
"Please. Please don’t."
It loops. Over and over.
I cover my ears.
She slaps my hands down. "Listen."
"Please. Please don’t."
"Who is that," she says.
"I don’t know."
"Wrong." She turns it up. The speaker rattles. "That’s you."
It’s not.
"That’s what Ryan Volkov did to you."
I shake my head. "I don’t remember—"
"Because he made you forget." She steps close. "He hurt you so bad your brain broke. But your body remembers."
She grabs my wrist. Twists.
My fingers scream.
"This is his fault."
"Please. Please don’t." The speaker keeps going.
"Stop," I say. "Please stop."
She smiles. "Now you’re getting it."
She lets go. Turns the speaker off.
Silence rings.
She drops the photo again. Ryan Volkov. It’s wet from yesterday. Ink running.
"Kneel."
I kneel.
"Put your hands on his face."
I do. Photo is cold. Soggy.
"Say it. 'You did this to me.'"
My throat closes.
She takes the taser out. Doesn’t use it. Just holds it where I can see it.
"You did this to me," I whisper.
"Louder."
"You did this to me."
"Again."
"You did this to me!" I’m shouting. Crying.
"Good." She cups my face. Thumb wipes my cheek. "You’re remembering."
I’m not.
But I nod.
She unchains my ankle. Points to the corner. "Sleep."
No bed. Just concrete.
She leaves the light on. Leaves the photo.
Leaves me alone.
I lie down. Curl on my side.
The photo is an inch from my face.
Ryan Volkov.
I close my eyes.
"Please. Please don’t."
I hear it anyway.
- Writer
