The Enslavement of Liberation

Her fingers fiddled around with the ends of her black-brown hair. People were applauding and cheering as the winners of "Song of the Year" at the 2008 MTV Latin America Awards rushed to the center of the stage to accept the award. Her blue green eyes scanned throughout the area, watching fans losing control as the four boys smiled waiting for it to quiet down so they can begin a speech.

"Hola Mexico! Thank you so much! We can't believe it. After working so hard for so long it feels good to know all of it wasn't for nothing. Thank you to our fans. We have the best fans in the world. We also want to thank……….."

More than anything she wished to just get up and run. To reverse time so that she wouldn't have made the mistakes she ever made. She watched him as he flashed his innocent smile across his heavily makeup coated face, his silver jacket and chains creating a blaze whenever the spotlight was moved to a specific area. She raised her hand to move a piece of hair away from her eyes. When she set her left hand back down stretched out on her thigh, she remembered. The heavy rock that was now permanently attached on her finger. And there was no way she could have it removed.

"…….and personally I want to thank my wife. Najya. I love you so much and thank you so much for making me the happiest man in the world. Thank you. Thank you so much."

The crowd once again began to scream and shout. 'Tokio Hotel para siempre!' The cameras were turned to face her, and she smiled. Something she had now learned to do by command.

They love him. They all love him. They all saw his animated perfect complexion, his striking yet beautiful appearance. His charm, his sweet way of handling things, his strange sense of humor. "Najya, you are so lucky," said an unfamiliar face sitting behind her. She turned and just smiled. Najya. Arabic for liberated, free. The ring on her finger said otherwise.

………………………………………………

Quietly she slipped on the short and sheer night gown that she knew Bill loved so much. He told her to wear it every night. It was his command. Stepping out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, his eyes fixed a look upon her. "Fun night, huh?"

"It was alright I guess."

"Four awards. Nice to know my fans appreciate my work more than my own wife."

"I never said I don't appreciate your work."

He raised an eyebrow, turning to grab another towel for his hair. "You better appreciate it. It's this fuckin' job that pays for everything you do."

"I appreciate it."

"What?"

"I appreciate it."

"Say it again."

"I appreciate it."

"One more time."

"I appreciate it!" She froze. He stepped in slowly, getting closer to her with a stern face. Realizing she had angered him, she started taking a few paces back. "Don't move you worthless shit."

A smirk swiped across his face as he stepped in so close that not even air could go through their bodies. He could feel her nerves begin to tremble as he wrapped an arm all around her waist. "Why are you shaking?"

"No reason."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Are you….nervous?" he asked, his nails digging into her waist. A soft groan escaped her throat. The pain was just beginning.

"No."

"Then why are you shaking?"

"I…I'm cold. I was hoping you would…warm me up?"

His fingernails squeezed in deeper inside her waist, slowly beginning to bury in her skin. He took steps forward, forcing her to back up against the wall. "Bill…."

"What? What more could you possibly want?"

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, her body begging for air but her mind completely forgetting how to do so. "What do you want?!" he repeated, his tone more harsh than before.

"I love you Bill…," were the words that came out of her mouth. Her body resisted the temptation to let tears pour out of her eyes.

Her body was paralyzed against his, completely at his mercy. Najya stood there completely numb, anxiously awaiting for his response. Hopefully tonight she would get lucky and he'd be in a good mood and not hurt her.

"Why do you lie to me in my face?"

"I'm not…I'm not lying…" his head rested on her shoulder, his mouth roughly sucking the side of her neck, his teeth retrieving blood.

"Get on the bed. Now."

Automatically her feet took paces to the bed, her body positioning itself on the mattress.

His eyes trailed her every curve, every move she would make. From the moment he first saw her he desired nothing else. He teased her, staring at her with a fearful face, his teeth playing around with his tongue piercing. He placed one knee on each side of her body, placing himself on top of her.

Afraid of what his next move would be, she forced a passionate kiss on his lips, almost begging him to not bring her any harm.

Outside of her control, her eyes began to well up with tears. Bill looked at her face, her still unaware that she was crying. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm...I'm not crying..."

"You know I don't like it when people lie to me. "

"You...you're hurting me Bill..."

"Excuse me?"

"It's just...you're being a bit too rough baby...do you think you could slow down....just a little bit?"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to you and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night."

"Well...it's just....I..."

"Spit it out already!"

"It's...it's my time of month..." Bill looked her in the eye for several minutes. Her chest rose and fell as she anxiously waited for his next move. Slowly, she felt his weight being lifted away from her. She rose from the bed and watched him as he took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Her eyes locked into his dark brown eyes. For just one second, she saw the man she had once been in love with, "Baby, are you ok?" No response. As if by some sort of automatic signal, she moved herself right beside Bill.

His magnetic stare was fixed towards Najya. His hand rose, pushing back some of luxurious black and brown curls behind her left ear. He came closer, giving her a soft kiss on her cheek.

"I love you, Bill." His eyes continued to stare at her, his facial expression not changing one bit. It had been years since Bill had replied with an "I love you too." Her ears longed to hear that simple response for so long, but never would her wish be granted.

"You are beautiful."

"Thank you."

He arose from the bed, standing in front of her, his eyes not motioning towards any other object but her. He clenched his right hand into a fist and in a blink of an eye he smacked her straight across the face. "Such a beautiful liar."

"Bill I....."

"Your time of month? That's what you said two weeks ago!" Once she saw him stretch out his arm to grab hers, without hesitation, Najya ran to the door. Unable to unlock it, she began to hit and bang with all her strength and began to yell as loud as she could. Slowly the door began to open and she panicked. She ran as fast as she could as soon as the door flung open, only to fall into someone's arms. Her eyes were closed but drowning in an endless flow of tears.

"Najya, Najya. It's me. Relax. What happened?" She looked up, long dirty blonde dreads falling onto her tan skin. She looked up, Tom staring down at her with a concerned face. Bill ran to his wife and brother. "Sweetheart, its ok."

"What happened to her?"

Bill looks at his twin brother, a somewhat retorted smile on his face. "She just thought she saw another mouse."

Tom smiled, beginning to laugh. "Again? Najya you really need to relax. Those things are just little animals."

She looked at Bill, his sinister, minacious eyes threatening her to play along with the story. "Yeah....Tom......you're right..." She smiled, removing Tom's arms and straightening out her night gown. "I think I just had one drink too many."

"Well that makes two of us. But nothin' a good night sleep can't fix."

"Yeah..uhm...i guess I'll just...go to bed." She turned, gazing at the hotel room doorway, her beloved husband waiting to take her in. She stepped into the room, the door closed behind them.

Najya. Arabic for liberated, free. He tugged at the nightgown, meaning she was being told to remove her clothing. She obeyed his command, such as every wife should. He placed her on the mattress, positioning her perfectly underneath him. This was the enslavement of liberation. And according to the ring on her finger, this was the life she was commended to for the rest of her being.