Taken by fate

Chapter 9

Music.
I wasn't dreaming but I also hadn't opened my eyes either.
Male voice, not yours. Deep country accent singing about open roads.
After so long in silence the music was weird, out of place. Keeping my eyelids shut not wanting the melody to stop, not fully believing that this wasn't just a dream and that once I opened my eyes the melody would be gone.
Seconds passed, the song changed.
Finally turning over, checking the room, nothing. 
Was the music coming from upstairs?
The sound was so close though, it couldn't be. Leaning over the side of the bed seeing a small black radio.
Radios had people, people had news. Was anyone talking about my disappearance?
  Almost falling to the ground as I reached for the device pulling the small electronic to see that it wasn't actually a radio after all, only a speaker. A blue MP3 player attached with an aux cord no longer than my pinky.
Checking immediately for a time and date but those settings had been removed.
Sighing.
Of course you wouldn't give me anything to let me know how long I've been down here. That was just another thing that you had control over.
Turning the volume down until all I could hear was the beats, not the words themselves. Holding the speaker in my hand feeling the vibrations pulsing through my palm.
Had you brought down the speaker because I had told you about my mom? Did you honestly think this was going to make me happy? Give me something to listen to and everything would be okay?
You knew exactly what I wanted and this was nothing but a poor attempt to pacify me. Sliding the power switch off leaving me in silence once more as I put the speaker back where it was.
Picking at my nails running the sharp edges against the meaty parts below my thumbs. Leaning back against the wall as I eyed my wrist. No red marks from where you had grabbed me yesterday, no bruises, nothing to show, no proof that anything had even happened.
Except for my memory.
Your lips.
Your hands.
Your hair.
Sitting in your lap.
Leaning into you.
Feet flat against the cold smooth cement floor, digging my fingers into my thighs.
Your hands sliding down my back.
Pulling me close.
Toes curling.
Your tongue in my mouth moving along with mine.
Heat.
Excitement.
Fear.
Disgust.
Not really sure how I could feel all those emotions at once. Knowing that my body had moved willingly with yours, not thinking.
Of course I hadn't been thinking. If I had been then I would have never let anything of it happen in the first place.
Lips moving painstakingly slow up my arm, feeling. Ugh, I couldn't describe how it made me feel. All that I knew was that I was lost in the moment.
Your question. Seven words.
Only needing to say one to stop everything.
No.
Would you have still kissed me if I had said no? Though I hadn't said yes either. Still I could have pushed you away and I didn't even do that.
"No!" Saying the word out loud, needing to hear it. "No."
No, what?
No to stop it? No because I hadn't stopped it? No, because I knew the entire thing was wrong. You were my kidnapper, I was the victim.
That's what I was. My will to survive led me to those actions.
Staying alive.
I knew that you wanted to have that deeper connection, toying with your emotions.
Even though deep down I knew that wasn't the reason. Wanting to believe this lie because the truth was so much worse.
Stockholm syndrome, I knew what that was.
When a captive forms a bond with the capture. Whether to feel safer, or for the fact that they are the only person they have to talk to. Learning about their capture, understanding them, feeling sorry for them.
I did feel sorry for you.
No one should have to go through what you did. Emotional pain, physical pain, abuse on all scales, having to deal with losing someone that you had a strong connection to.
Surviving each day while living with someone who beat you so bad that your back was unrecognizable. The same person that should have protected you from that happening in the first place.
No wonder you ran off, I would have to.
How fucked would a person have to be to hurt their own flesh and blood, their own child.
In a way I questioned how you weren't more messed up.
Maybe that's exactly what I had.
Through my act of trying to fake understand you to stay safe, I actually unconsciously created a bond.
Something that had happened over time because as much as I hated to admit, I had feelings for you.
Truth was I liked the kiss and when I pulled away I had wanted more. Feeling secure in your arms, how your hands caressed my body.
If I had met you at any other time, back when I had my life, if you had talked to me then I would have probably obsessed over the cute college guy and if you had asked me out I might have said yes.
Seeing your body, that lopsided grin, you were cute, definitely higher up on the scale. Hell who was I kidding you broke the scale compared to the boys at my school. You had called me beautiful. No other guy had even shown me the slightest bit of interest.
I had to get out. Get out before you warped my mind anymore.
You stole me, you could get rid of me at any time.
Just like you did with the two girls before me.
What had they done to make you get rid of them?
Did they continuously fight off your advances? Refuse to take anything you gave them? Or did you just grow tired of them, getting rid of one before moving to the next?
Marks on the posts. Someone had been bound, struggling hard to get free and there was no way they were from just one time. Some of the indents were worn deep, smoothed out from constant movement.
Did their wrists bleed? Did you bandage them up after you were done, consoling them to?
Caring, you were good at that. Was it all just an act to hide the monster you truly were?
Seeing the absolute terror in your eyes when you saw the marks you caused on my wrist, apologizing immediately.
If this was an act it sure was a damned good one.
You've had chances to practice before me. Maybe you were just that good.
How long before you bound me to these posts?
Before you grew tired of waiting?
If I rejected you next time what would you do?
You had the strength to hold me down.
"No music?"
Startled, skittering up from the floor, not hearing you come down at all.
"I turned it off."
"What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing." Scowl in my voice as I turned away walking across the room far from you.
"Had to be something if you didn't hear me come down."
"What do you want?"annoyed that you could read me so well, glad that I hadn't been thinking out loud.
"Brought you some food, wanted to see how you were." Your voice was cheery and sweet but your eyes were focused on me scanning me.
"How do you think? I'm stuck down here, there's nothing to do." Gesturing to the empty room.
You had set the plate down on the bed. "I could bring you something, anything, just ask."
"A phone."
You had the balls to laugh at that. "Nice try but if you want something else, a book, something to write with, I can get it."
Ignoring you, turning my head to study the wall next to me. There had to be something to help me escape. Reaching up, touching the collar that had me trapped. So used to the metal around my neck, the weight bearing down on my shoulders. If I wanted the slightest bit of chance at escape then I needed this thing off. To know how the hinges held together.
Turning back towards you, eyes connecting with yours, cocking my head to the side to look more innocent.
Maybe I could play on your reasonable side, if you had one.
"Will you do something for me?"
"Of course, what is it?" Looking like a puppy about to get a treat.
"Take this off. Please?"
Jiggling the collar letting you know that's what I meant. Seeing the answer play on your face before you even opened your mouth.
"Just while your down here." Talking quickly. "I can't escape with you watching me." Adding a small smile to that part saying it as if it were an inside joke. "Please. I just want it off, it's hurting my neck."
At first I thought that you were actually considering the idea, seeing your eyes flicker at the mention of my physical pain. 
"I can't. Not right now, I can't stay long."
Dropping my head in a mopey dramatic act, letting my arms flop to my sides.
"Come here. I'll massage your shoulders for you."
"No, it's fine. Thanks for the food."
"That won't be on forever." You sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself more than me.
"Just go."
For a moment there was just quiet before I heard your retreating steps.
I knew that it was a long shot but I at least had to try. As long as this collar was around my neck there was no chance of me escaping.
Heading over to the bed seeing what you had brought me this time.
Two sandwiches along with a handful of plain chips. Pulling away the bread on one revealing turkey, cheese, tomato, what smells like mayo and salt and pepper as well.
Leaving the plate alone, not really hungry at the moment sitting down beside the bed crossing my legs on top of each other.
This is my life now.
Twisting my head in a full circle taking in everything then looking down at myself and my bare legs that were covered in tiny hairs.
I knew that I shouldn't care, after all I was locked in a tiny room and no one could see me except for you but just seeing them reminded me of how much freedom I've lost. Though I was lucky enough to be able to wash myself, I still felt dirty.
Still not used to the fact that I was completely bare down there, reaching to pull down my underwear every time I went to hover over the bucket.
So many things that I've lost and most were things that I would never even think of in the first place.
Reaching for the MP3 player picking up the sleek device. At least now I wouldn't have to sit in silence.
Clicking through the menu to see how many songs there were total.
One hundred and sixty seven.
Did you actually pay for all these songs? Were these the ones you listened to or did you pick at random?
Of course there was also a mix of every genre. Figures.
Questions, that's all I seemed to be doing was getting more and more questions.
Putting the list down laying down on my back, coolness from the ground seeping through my shirt. Already I could smell myself getting ripe again.
How long since I've washed myself? Two days? Three? Counting each time that I've slept as another day.
Leaning my head to the side, looking under the bed, noticing that there was something there in the back against the wall.
Turning onto my stomach scooting under the frame almost not fitting, extending my arm reaching further giving myself more distance.
Still too far away, sucking in deep as I inched myself forwards a little bit more using my elbows for traction. Stretching my entire body as I reached again, fingertips brushing along the edge causing the flimsy thing to fall towards me, able to grab ahold of the object easily now. 
Scooting backwards very awkwardly until I was out of the darkness.
Holding the paper up victoriously flipping the creamy page over quickly to see what was written.
It was your drawing, the one of me.
You hadn't taken it away after all. Must have fallen between the crevice between the wall and mattress after I had set it down.
Some of the shading had gotten smudged but all the details were still there. Feeling like it has been forever since I had worn that nightdress.
Staring at the picture I had almost regretted destroying the lacy silk, the way you had drawn me while I was wearing the fabric was beautiful.
This time looking over the picture I also realized something else.
The chain was missing, you hadn't drawn it in.
Is that how you saw me? As not being held against my will, or having been kidnapped? Recalling one of your stories, your words from the end, ' wanted to save her from the cruel world.' Is that what you really thought you were doing with me?
Placing the paper next to the speaker, my brain filled with too many questions and not enough answers.
Deciding that I was done with the silence sliding the power button on and hitting play.
Violin notes filling the space along with an orchestra in the background.
Upbeat and new. Not classical like I had thought at first. Standing up pacing the floor stepping to the beat as the atmosphere changed around me.
Blocking out all my thoughts, focusing on the beats, on moving.
High pitched strings cutting through every other instrument demanding that you pay attention to the main instrument, the violin. 
Orchestra simmering down behind the fast strumming then stopping completely as another high note, long and drawn out, rang through. Then an eerie silence before all the rest of the instruments started playing again, softer until the song was over.
Heavy metal filled the air. Lead singer screaming unintelligible words, speaker blaring even though the volume was only halfway up. Drums banging, guitars soaring through so many chords at once. All of it, jumbled and messy.
I liked it, jumping with every beat.
Oddly enough the chain hitting against the cement floor each time went perfectly with the song. Bleeding in with the rest of the instruments as if it belonged.
When the song was over I was out of breath, legs tired, my hair all over the place tangled in knots. Flipping the strands back not really caring how messy it probably looked.
An opera singer's powerful voice booming through the tiny speaker as I grabbed the water that was next to my plate downing the entire thing.
Turning the speaker down as I plopped onto the mattress, scarfing down a sandwich now that I was actually hungry.
Honesty I had felt better, a lot better after moving my pulse finally starting to slow to its normal rhythm. Picking up the biggest chip and shoving the entire thing onto my mouth, licking the salt that stuck onto my lips.
Blood coursing through my body waking up muscles that I hadn't used in a while.
Energized, picking up my second sandwich and taking bites as I skipped along the floor twisting and turning.
For the first time since waking up in this room I actually felt like myself.