6: White Silk, Black Chains
1037 Words
Anya’s POV
Lev opens the car door and the old air hits my face.
He pushes me into the back seat of a big black SUV and I fall onto the leather seat, the door shuts hard.
Click. The locks go down.
I pull the handle. Nothing happens. No way out.
The windows are dark. I see only shadows of snow outside.
The car starts and we move.
My cheek still burns from the slap, Nikolai’s slap. I touch it. It is hot.
I ask Lev, “Where is the dacha?”
He sits in front but says nothing to my question. He looks straight like I had not spoken.
The drive feels long and I am already tired. Still can’t believe my jerk of a father sold me to Nikolai Morozov, a pakhan.
I watch the snow hits the glass, making soft taps.
My hands shake in my lap.
The car suddenly slows. Iron gates which I did not know we have approached open slow.
Tall. Black. Guards stand with rifles. Two big dogs bark once. Then quiet.
We drive on a long path. Snow crunches under the tires.
They were trees all around. Silver birch. White bark.
The dacha finally appears. Three floors. Dark wood. Sharp roof. Only two windows have warm light. The rest are black.
The car stops. Lev opens my door. Cold bites my skin. He grabs my arm and pulls me out.
Snow got on my shoes. Wet. Cold.
Lev led me into the dacha.
Inside the dacha smells like pine and gun oil. The hall is big. Marble floor. White and gray. High ceiling.
There were animal heads on the walls. Deer. Bear. Wolf. Their glass eyes watch me.
A huge fireplace stands empty. No fire. Lev walks fast and my legs follow him for I really do not know what to do.
My feet slip a little.
At the end of the hall a woman waits.
Black bag in her hand. Dark curls.
I know that face.
My heart stops.
Sofia Sonya Kuznetsova.
My best friend.
We played in the snow as kids. Shared secrets in my old room.
She notices me and her eyes go wide.
The bag in her hand falls from her hand. it hits the floor.
Thud.
“Anya? Is that you?” Her voice breaks.
Tears fill my eyes. I run to her without thinking.
“Sonya, help me. Please.”
I grab her arms. She hugs me tight. Her body shakes.
“Anya, what are you doing here?” she whispers. I cry into her shoulder.
“Papa sold me. To him. The pakhan.”
Lev steps close. His voice is hard.
“Do the exam. Now.”
Sonya pulls back. Her face is pale. Hands shake.
“Strip to your underwear,” she says.
Her voice is small. I shake my head.
“No.”
Lev moves closer. His shadow falls on us.
Sonya leans in and whispers in my ear fast.
“Please, Anya. I have to do this. Or they kill me too. I am sorry.”
Tears run down her cheeks.
I look at her. My best friend. In this place. I feel sick.
I pull off the white dress. It falls on the marble.
I feel the cold air on my skin. I stand in my underwear. Arms over my chest.
Sonya kneels. Opens the bag. Takes out tools.
She checks my pulse. Her fingers are cold. She looks in my eyes with a light. Then my throat.
She writes on a clipboard. Her hand shakes as the pen scratches.
She looks between my legs so quick. She does not touch me.
Her face turns red. She writes again.
Tears fall on the paper and smear the ink.
She stands then looks at Lev.
“She is a virgin,” she says. Her voice flat.
I burn with shame. Betrayal.
Sonya was my safe place. Now she is part of this.
Lev just nods and grabs my arm again.
He pulls me up the stairs made of wood steps.
Dark.
Sonya follows with the bag.
She gives me a nightgown. Thin. White.
“Boss likes white,” she says.
Her eyes do not meet mine.
We stop at a heavy door.
Lev opens it. Inside is a big room. Big bed. White silk sheets. Pillows soft. Chains on the headboard. Silver. Clean. One window with bars. Bathroom door open. No lock.
Lev pushes me in while Sonya puts the nightgown on the bed. They both leave and the door shuts. The lock clicking.
I am alone.
I test the chains. Cold. Real.
I pull the window. Bolted.
I sit on the bed. Silk cool under me.
I hear boots in the hall. Then nothing. Quiet.
I whisper to myself.
“I will not break.” My voice sounds small.
I say it again. Louder.
“I will not break.”
Hours pass. Snow keeps tapping the window.
Tap. Tap. I count the taps. One hundred. Two hundred.
My eyes want to close. But I stay awake.
I heard keys turn in the lock and the door opens slow.
Nikolai steps in. His chest can be seen since his shirt is unbuttoned open. There is snow on his boots.
He walks to the chair. Sits and watches me.
His eyes cold, blue.
I stare back. Hate in my heart.
He speaks, just a sentence.
“Like your new home?”
I open my mouth. Words rush.
“This is a prison. You are a monster. Let me…”
He stands, turns, then walks out. The door shuts and the lock clicks again.
He ignores me. Like I said nothing.
I sit, my breath fast.
Then I see it.
On the nightstand, rest a small knife which was not there before.
Handle toward me. Blade away. No note.
I pick it up. Cold. Heavy. I test the edge with my thumb. Sharp. A line of blood. I suck it and taste metal.
I look at the chains, then the door. My wrist.
Thoughts run wild.
Kill him? Kill myself? Or wait?
Snow taps the window. Tap. Tap.
I hide the knife under the pillow.
Soft. Safe. For now.
Not tonight.
- Writer
