Drip….drip….drip….
That was all she could hear, all she could think. Count them again and again. Drip…drip….drip.
It was the only thing that meant that time had come to a halt altogether. Beyond that, her mind and her body had lost all track and semblance of time. Pain, hunger, thirst, more pain, more hunger, extreme thirst. Would it end? Even death may seem a welcome escape after everything.
She had long since given up on screaming and crying for help, for anyone. The few times she managed to be conscious long enough to even give a short cry, she was silenced with a brutal kick to some part of her body, her midsection was a particular favorite it seemed. Her hands were bound behind her and her only defense was to try to shrink inside herself, to become as small as possible.
Step…step…step….
Something new, a change in routine. Someone, whoever it was, was pacing. Back and forth. Five steps across, back another five. It's amazing how intrigued one can be with the simple sound of footsteps. Intrigued and terrified at the same time, the latter growing steadily in her stomach.
Step…step…step…voices murmuring…voices? There was someone else now? The never were distinguishable through the door, but she heard men's voices. Occasionally she could make out a word, only a few,
No, no more. She didn't think she could handle it. The darkness, complete darkness in that damp room and now the growing threat of another person, what could be next?
"…ship…..three days…..useful…."
Ship. Three days. Useful? There were too many questions, fragments of nightmares and possibilities that swarmed her already murky mind. It's incredible how a few days without nourishment can leave a mind in a cold haze.
"…he …come…her?"
"No….feed….dies…."
He? Who was he? Ship, three days, him, food, useful, food…
Finally, after another round of countless drips, the door opened. It was always dark, she could only make out the outline of the man, her captor. It always seemed familiar, like someone she knew. That life seemed so far away, almost a dream amongst the pain and fatigue. He never spoke directly to her, knowing it could easily give his identity away. Her hands were not loosed, he simply held food in front of her and she ate out of his hand. Demeaning, degrading, but thankful nonetheless for it she ate trying not to think of anything else. Finally, after a piece of bread and a bite of cheese, he put a flask to her mouth and she drank, gulping what she could without choking. She tried to ignore the burn as it went to her stomach, knowing it might actually bring a sense of relief, knowing the taste of whiskey now will dull her senses a little further. Still, it was liquid, and she needed it.
He sat back, his face still in the shadows. Pulling a long draw from the flask himself, he sighed. A tired sigh, like one after a long ride or argument. She waited for him to leave, to drink again, to do anything, but he just sat. Her mind started to race, could he want something else? Something she feared he was going to do? But no, he still just sat. She pulled herself up to a sitting position and still he did nothing. She shook her head, clearing the hair from her eyes. Still, he did nothing. Gathering what few nerves she had, she slowly and silently brought her legs underneath her, her heart pound so loudly in her ears she was sure he heard something, but still he never moved. Her legs shook as she stood, heart pounding out of her chest.
Nothing.
Like a doe waiting for the hunter to strike, she waited, staring at him as he still sat. Finally, she moved away towards the door.
Like the doe, she wasn't expecting the hunter to move. And like the doe, she lost.
He grabbed her by the waist, laughing as he effortlessly picked her up. She still never caught a glimpse of his face, but his body felt familiar. And that laugh, it couldn't be! He would never…..
The last sight she saw was the wall rushing towards her, then darkness.
