The Horrible Past
851 Words
The room was dark. I had spent hours in-transit to this room. The smell of mildew and cat excrement gathered on the carpet under my nose. My stomach heaved inflaming the dry ache in my throat and stomach. The door opened splashing my eyes with light and more horrifying images flashed; the images of my kidnappers. An ugly man with foul breath leaned over in front of me dripping sweat and soiled drool on my face.
“Honey, you gonna bring in a good price.” I could smell the lingering aroma of liquor when he spoke into my face. Just a few days before, he would have been the one I would have trusted; but since that first night, he stayed drunk.
“Josh, leave her alone,” Travis, the better looking of the two, said from the door blocking the light. He was the one asking for directions when I was grabbed from behind. The snarling smile and the sinister laugh from this man made me physically flinch.
My days and nights blurred together spinning into a consistent waking fear. I thought I was going to die in the dank room. Not hearing from Josh or Travis except when Travis needed to “scratch his itch.” I dreaded seeing the door open because nothing good ever came from it. I knew one of the times it would be the person who bought me. That idea scared me less than what was happening while I waited. I could feel my lips chapping and breaking and my dry tongue felt swollen in my mouth. I knew what was happening to me and was scared. The fear of death emanated from my every pore.
“Get out, Josh. My itch is calling my name.” Josh, ever compliant, left the room, shutting the door behind him.
I whimpered as the blurry figure sauntered across, I prayed for the sweet bliss of death to take me before he could touch me again. But it didn’t. He was methodical, every time, the same thing.
Slides his hands up my shirt and grabs both my breasts, hard. Check.
Shoves my legs apart and up. Check.
The deafening sound of his zipper. Check.
Block it all out, no screaming. Check.
Blazing pain radiating from between my legs. Check.
Sweating and panting and hot liquid on me. Check.
No fighting from me so it’s over quick and without much abuse. Check.
He gets up, zips his pants, kicks my ribs, “You know you like it, b***h,” slams the door. Check.
At first, I cried. Cried at the abuse, cried at what was happening, but most of all, and cried at the loss of my innocence. This time; however, there were no tears. I was so dehydrated that my body couldn’t even grieve properly. So my body shook in quiet sobs and unshed tears as I tried to scoot my skirt and shirt back over my body without the use of my hands.
That’s when he came for me. At first I thought he was my buyer, but the gentle way he cradled me in his arms as he lifted me from the ground told me to trust him. My sight was blurry and I didn’t see where he took me. For a while it felt like I was flying. I thought maybe I had died and this man was my guardian angel taking me to heaven, but then I was in the most comfortable bed I had ever laid in. That’s when the pain began.
My angel became a devil. He was torturing me. It felt like fiery hot pokers were being jabbed into my throat and my body was being filled with lead. “What did they do to you?” His voice, always gentle, soothing.
A little while later the fire began again, but not as severe as before. I slowly realized that it was soup and my body was reacting to the food as a foreign element. By the fourth meal he gave me, I was feeling more alive and my vision was clearing. That’s when he took me to the police station. He carried me in, still worried that I was too weak to support my own weight. “I found her nearly dead. Please take care of her,” he said to the person at the front desk and left. That’s when I saw his face for the first time, through my tears.
When I opened my eyes again and saw the light, I felt very warm and safe, like a butterfly should feel in its cocoon. I must have passed out. I searched for something I recognized; anything to tell me I was mistaken in my previous thoughts.
I couldn’t move to do my search. I lifted my head, trying to look behind me. Gabriel was there, cradling me against his body. His scent pushed me spiraling back into the past. It cleared the dreamy images and I could see my angel as clearly as I would if he were right in front of me.
“Gabriel?”
- Writer
