I apologize for the many grammatical mistakes, but English's not my first language. Hope you like the chapter, let me know what you think if you like.
Day 1
January 29, 1978.
I didn't sleep that night. I was scared to death. Just the night before I was inside my house, sleeping my bed next to Lord Tubbington and now I'm in a place I don't know, with people I don't know, subtracted from my life against my own will. Who the hell are these people? What do they want from me? What have they done to my parents?
The fatigue was slowly consuming me, but I couldn't sleep... not as long as it was still this dark. I'm afraid of the dark. I want to go away from here, but it seems rather unlikely to be able to escape. So far I 'saw' three people, two men and a woman. It's going to be difficult for me, alone, to get away from all of them. I have to wait for the right time... I have to be in the room with only one of them, preferably not S, let them free me from the handcuffs and play my last trump. Hoping that others are not waiting just outside the door.
"Hey ... Anybody home?"
When the door opens M makes its way towards me, followed by S.
"Good morning, baby doll." Hisses the latter.
"Good morning." I answer, not to make her angry.
"What's that face? The bed was too uncomfortable? You're used to something much better, uh?" She keeps talking to me as if she feels someway superior to me.
"It's really not that..." S shrugs, while M gives me a nod to push me to continue.
"It's... well... I'm afraid of the dark. I'm here all alone and not even a ray of light enters the window. "
"This is because we closed it with planks. Unfortunately we can't open it, it would be too risky." Says M.
"Could you at least give me a small light?" I ask, hopefully.
"If you want you can ask mommy to come and sleep with you... How old are you, five? Who's afraid of the dark at your age?" S shuts me up.
"Please ..." I mutter, looking S in the eye.
For a moment it looks like her eyes soften and I think she wants to tell me something but, because of the hood, I can't see her lips.
"Okay." M anticipates her answer. "I'll go get breakfast." He exclaims exiting.
"Thank you."
/
After breakfast I must have slept for a few hours, with the complicity of the few rays filtering through the planks, giving me the chance to see something.
Sometime later, P and M come to give me lunch. Potatoes. They must not be doing well... yesterday I had chicken soup and today potatoes. I hope they don't always eat like this.
I wonder why they always get in my room two or three at a time... I don't think they can really be afraid of me escaping. I mean, I'll try, but they underestimate themselves if they think I'd be able to escape even only from P.
I don't know where S is and if on the one hand I don't mind her absence, I'm curious to know what she wanted to tell me this morning. Because I know she wanted to tell me something.
"When will I be able to get out?" I ask.
"When everything is solved." Responds P, in a very enigmatic way. Why must this man never answer my questions? The other day, when I asked him where I was, he said, 'where we brought you'. I don't know what they expect of me, but I think it is legitimate, in a situation like this, to ask questions.
I try not to cry in frustration.
"I'm going to become blind by dint of being in the dark." I state.
"I don't think it's my probl-"
"She's right. Tomorrow you will be able to go out a little." P is abruptly interrupted by S, who has just entered the room.
"But S, we can't release her and let her out." P widens his eyes, trying to reason with her.
"I'll handle this, don't worry. She would ultimately die of depression inside this room, given that we don't know for how long she's going to stay with us. "
On the one hand I'm concerned about the way she said that she 'will take care of me', but on the other hand I'm happy because at least I will have a chance to get out, even if I don't know how S will organize the thing and, lastly, I'm scared to death. They don't know how long I'm going to stay with them yet. It depends on what? And what will happen next?
P must have sensed my discomfort because, looking at me, he tells me not to worry.
"We're not going to harm a hair of your head. We're not that stupid." He adds, while he and S come out.
I remain alone with M, which takes off my handcuffs to allow me to eat.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome... I had no desire of feeding you." Responds M. And I can feel a smile from under the balaclava, at least so it seems to me.
M does not seem as grumpy as S or as enigmatic as P. He's a middle way. But of course, with the joke from earlier, he managed to put me at ease. I was left alone with him and didn't know what to expect.
"I know you used to dance." He states.
"Yes... I used to before you locked me in here. But how do you know?" I ask.
"Let's say that before 'picking' someone, we have to do some research. And what's more, I saw you dancing several times in theaters. Let me tell you, your technique is perfect. "
He has seen me dance... Did he do it because he liked the way I dance or simply to 'study me'?
M's eyes are dark, but not as much as those of S. Those are some real black holes, both for the color and the way they seem to attract everything surrounding them, at least as far as it concerns me.
I think M is Asian, Chinese or Japanese, but I'm not sure. He might as well just have small eyes.
"What?" He asks me, noticing that I was staring.
"Are you Asian?" I ask him, while continuing to eat. These potatoes are not bad at all.
"If I told you I'd blow up my cover." He says, with a hint of irony in his voice. "But I guess you could simply look at me in the eyes to answer your question."
I think that's a yes.
M seems quite inclined to talk, so I decide to ask him a few more questions. I'm curious to know who these people are and then, who knows, some information might come in handy.
"What about S and P?" I ask him. To be honest I'm more interested to know something about S, but I don't want him to notice.
"They are not Asian." He answers, pretending not to understand.
"How long have you known each other?" I ask again.
"Forever. We are like a family." He says sincerely.
"How can you stand S and P?" I can afford to ask, now that the atmosphere is lightened.
M chuckles, taking his time to answer. Maybe he wants to try to explain something without releasing too much information.
"They are not what they seem. They want to act tough and believe me - when needed - they are too. In reality, however, you just have to figure out how to get them. "
Unwittingly M has been a huge help. He just gave me basic information. I just have to try and gain their trust, then hit them at the right time. I hope that tomorrow, if S really takes me out, I will able to begin to implement my plan and to achieve my goal as soon as possible...
/
A few hours after lunch I hear the door open.
"Who's there?" I ask.
Before I can hear the answer I see a little body cross the threshold of the door.
"I have to clean your wound." She answers, without even saying hello.
I nod, while S comes close to my bed holding everything she needs. I try, as much as the handcuffs allow me to, to sit down on the bed in order to make both my movements and those of S easier.
The girl approaches me, putting the disinfectant, gauze and bandages on the chair next to my bed, then leans towards me and grabs the handcuffs with one hand while rummaging with the other hand in her right trouser pocket to extract the key. 'Bingo' I think, that's where she holds the key. I'll have to find a way to steal it, sooner or later. Well… the sooner, the better.
After removing the handcuffs, she collects all the things resting on the chair, to sit above it.
"Give me your hand." She orders.
I slowly bring my arm close to her and she takes my hand to help me stretch my forearm on her legs. Then, gently this time, she slightly lifts up the sleeve of my sweatshirt, in order to have a good view of my wrist. I lean slightly to take off the gauze, but S stops me with her eyes, making me understand that she will take care of me, so I go back to where I was before.
With a delicacy I didn't imagine she could possess, she begins to untie the bandage, brushing the inside of my wrist at the end of each lap. When the bandage is completely removed, I can finally see my wound. It is not very deep, but it is one of those diagonal cuts that bleed a lot and, at first sight, it has the shape of a smile.
"It doesn't look like a very serious cut, even if yesterday we thought you'd bled to death." Says S, looking up to point her eyes on me.
"I didn't do it on purpose, you know. I was just trying to free myself." I explain. I don't want her to think that I attempted suicide, because – apart from the fact that I did not – that would imply greater precautions and, therefore, less chances for me to escape.
"Okay." She just answers.
After pouring a few drops of disinfectant on a cotton ball, S rubs gently over my wound, being careful not to press too hard but enough to remove particles of dried blood on the contours. Then she applies a gauze, impregnated with disinfectant as well and she fixes it on my arm with a patch.
In performing each of these actions S sports a delicacy and a care that I never thought she could show. She took care of my injury as if it was made of glass, as if she was afraid of breaking it only by touching it. She looks like a completely different person compared to yesterday, but I have no illusions that she's going to retain this behavior forever, because I don't want to be disappointed.
Once she completes her work, in contrast compared with before, she slides down the sleeve of my sweatshirt and, in doing so, she touches the inside of my wrist with her thumb, as if she was stroking.
Of course she wasn't, but still it was nice to get a gesture of affection, even if unintentional, after all that I went through.
"Thank you." I say as she gets up. Then she bends over me and handcuffs me again.
S doesn't reply, but just nods before heading out the door.
/
The day passes by without any further incidents. I only saw M and P, who untied me to let me go to the bathroom and brought me dinner. I wonder where S is.
After some time, maybe minutes, maybe hours, I hear screaming over my door.
"Fucking bastards! They called the police. I'm going to kill her!" That's S and she seems really angry.
"You're not doing anything. We are going to be fine, as we have always done." Says M, trying to calm her.
"I can do what I want, M. We imposed a condition... only one... for them to get their daughter back. And they haven't respected it. Is this how they care about their princess's life? If I were them I would think twice before breaking an order."
If until now S scared me, well... now I'm terrified! She seems very angry and, when I hear footsteps approaching, I fear for my safety. The door opens and S comes in with a fast pace followed by the others, who are trying to stop her.
She pounces on me, taking me by the collar of my sweatshirt and pulling me closer to her face, always covered.
"Looks like your parents don't care too much to see you alive again. If they want to see you dead, I'm definitely not going to stop them." She yells at me.
P tries to detach her from me, screaming at her that 'it is not my fault if my parents did not comply with the covenant' and that she 'should calm down before doing shit, because they never killed anyone during a job and they certainly won't start now'.
I'm crying desperately. I'm still tied with S' hands around the collar of my sweatshirt as she raises my head from the pillow. I'm scared. She's yelling at me, threatening me, although I haven't done anything.
P and M finally manage to detach her from me, while I'm still crying. As soon as they move her away, she seems to recover and realize what she has done. She takes a step away, observing her hands.
"Oh God..." She mutters. "I didn't mean to… I don't know what came over me ... I was too angry."
She tries to come closer to me but M interposes, making her go away.
"Not now S" He tells her, ushering her out while I'm still sobbing.
M approaches me, trying to calm me down. But I can't stop myself, I reached the limit.
After a few minutes with M still by my side, I can calm down. With my eyes still red and swollen I look at him with gratitude. Soon after, he leaves the room.
/
It's pretty dark now, I can't see anything and, again, I'm afraid. Not even half an hour went by after the accident with S and my breath is still not completely settled yet. When the door opens I gasp: it's her.
"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." She tries to reassure me.
"You wanted to kill me not too long ago..." I answer.
"I would never have done that... I'm not that kind of person. It's just that sometimes I lose control out of anger." She explains.
"I don't know what kind of person you are, but I know for sure that I have every right to be scared. I am in the hands of people I don't know, who threaten to kill me for no reason. Would you not be scared? "
I see her lowering her head in defeat.
"I would. And I didn't mean to scare you even more. I was taken by the fury of the moment. I discovered some things I do not like... plus I really hate the police." She tells me.
She really seems sorry, so I think this could be the occasion for me to start gaining her trust. Therefore I decide to keep talking to her, making her believe I hate the police as well. Even if I do, in a certain kind of way.
"Well, then we have something in common. I hate the police as well. Lord T was once arrested for selling drugs, but I am more than sure he was innocent."
"Who is Lord T?" She asks, surprised.
"My cat."
"Oh..." She seems incredulous. "Well, I'm not here to talk about the police or cats breaking the law."
"Then why are you here?" I ask her with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
"I brought you the small light to make sleep." She replies, heading towards the opposite side of the room to attach it to the socket. "Do you want a blanket?"
I nod.
She takes the blanket at the foot of my bed, then she gently spreads it out on me.
"I hope you did not get hurt before." She confesses with eyes genuinely concerned.
"I didn't. But, as I told you, you scared me to death. "
"It won't happen again." She answeres as her hand, pulling back after she placed the blanket, touches my shoulder.
"I hope so."
"Good night, Brittany." She says, walking away.
It's the first time she hasn't called me with names like 'doll' or 'princess'. She must be truly repentant.
"Goodnight S" I answer, before closing my lids to put myself in a well-deserved sleep.
/
March 18, 1978.
My love, I finally managed to write you a letter. Not in my fist, because my fingers are numb, but thank God I have someone to write it for me. We've been far from each other for ten days, but it feels like a lifetime. During these days I haven't done anything but work hard, and that's what I have to do for at least nine months more... as long as things do not change. At least I hope you are well, I hope you are treated with the sweetness you deserve and I hope that this letter makes you feel a bit better, if it ever arrives to you. I know we were told that we could communicate twice a month, but I'm not sure they will keep their promise. I do not want them to separate us more than they already have.
Working here is hard, now we are repairing a dam. Every morning I wake up with numb muscles and aching back, but I try to force myself to think that every hour spent working it's an hour less far from you, from your eyes, from your smile.
God how I miss your smile! It was one of the many things that made me fall in love with you ... remember the first time I let you out? Back then I saw you smile for the first time ... and it was so beautiful that, from that day on, walking in the woods has become my favorite activity. I was hoping those days would never end ...
Britt, when you get out of there if you don't want to have anything to do with me, I will understand. They explained that, sometimes, a particular situation stimulates feelings that otherwise would not show up. Or that a person, for survival instinct, tries to compromise with herself, in order to be safe.
I hope your 'I love you' was not dictated by external factors, but it was real, as it was - and still is - mine. If not, I am ready to promise that, once you're free, I will find you and try to win you back in any way possible. If you decide not to see me again, I will respect your choice with a heavy heart, continuing to love you secretly nonetheless.
I hope to receive a reply soon.
All my love goes to you, who are the beat of my heart ... to you, the air in my lungs ... to you, who gave me everything, never thinking it could be enough.
Forever yours,
San.