The Lion's Den

Chapter 10

     "I need you to know that simply by being here with me a target is placed on your back." Zivon spoke in a hushed tone, and I suddenly realized how cold my feet were on the ground. 

     "Mhh Hmm," I gave a half hearted response. I always do this. The second a serious topic comes up, I stop listening. Somehow, everything else in the room becomes so much more interesting. 

     As Zivon rambled about how he was dangerous and a threat to me, I wondered where our food was. I'm hungry. 

     Food was placed in front of me, but Zivon continued his rant. Poking my food with a cool silver fork, I noticed something. 

     Some blue powdery substance was on the bottom of one of my noodles. I didn't know what it was, but something wasn't right. 

     "Stop!" I yelled, just as Zivon's fork was almost to his mouth. I spoke louder than intended, and a few men at a nearby table turned to us. 

     Looking down to my noodle filled plate, I pointed at the blue powder. His eyes followed, becoming wide with terror he they saw it. 

     Jumping up from the table, he pulled me by my hand to a door with a women in a dress on it. Bathroom. 

     He pulled the door shut behind us, locking it with a click. 

     "Why are you in the girls bathroom?" I asked in more of a screech than a sentence. 

     "Listen to me very carefully Nova. You need to stay in this bathroom, and under no circumstance are you to come out." He spoke in a rushed voice and it made me anxious. 

      Not the anxiety that you get before a test or something. No. This is the type of anxiety that picks you up and wrings you out like a rag, until you have nothing left in you to fight. The dangerous anxiety, the kind that makes you weak.

     A cool, smooth object was shoved into the palm of my hand. Looking down, the metal reflected a shimmer of the LED lights that hung over head. A gun.

     "You use this only as a last resort, understand? The safety is off, so pull the trigger and it will fire." Zivon's voice was still rushed. Everything was happening to fast. 

     All these things were happening around me, things that I didn't understand. They seemed to whip past me in an intense wind, as I'm trying to grab onto as many as I can. 

     "Zivon what's happening?" my voice was foreign, scratching and weak sounding. Not my own. 

     "Detka, I have no time to explain. Backup is already on the way. Promise me. Promise me you will stay here," his confident sounding voice would fool anyone into security, but not me. His eyes gave him away. They were desperate. It made my throat tighten and my chest compress. He was worried about me, really worried.  

     "I promise," I didn't know if he heard me, because I spoke barley above a whisper. He must have, because he pecked me on the lips and was gone like a whistle of wind. 

     I walked over to the bathroom door and relocked it, hoping the heavy wood could protect against what ever threat Zivon believed was posed on the other side. 

     Leaning against the white tile, it cooled my back. I was scared. The type of fear that makes your legs burn, as if ready to run. The fear that clouds your brain into not thinking clearly. Like a drug. 

     In a few minutes, a bang rang through the air. It yanked me back into the reality I so desperately craved to escape. The bang was followed by another, and another. 

      I jumped, fearful each time. The loud sounds didn't scare me; the memories that flooded in with them did.       

     The chair banged as it collided with the wall. I crammed myself into the corner of the room, pushing myself as far from the raging tyrant as I possibly could.

     Bang, Bang, Bang. Books, lamps, picture frames. Their pieces showered the room, and I held my breath. 

     He charged towards me, and my blood froze and boiled at the same time. My head tingled like static electricity, and I blocked out as much as I could. 

    His rough knuckles made contact with my stomach, then my ribs, jaw, chest, arms-anywhere he could hit. 

     Pain. Pain everywhere. I knew the bruises and pain would linger tomorrow, and the next day as well.   

     When he finally left I found myself on the floor drifting off, praying not to wake up in the morning. 

     The painful memories rushed in, one after another. I found myself sitting against the bathroom wall, my voice rigid from screaming, when the gunfire finally stopped. 

     Now a new wave of painful thoughts took over my mind. Is Zivon okay? What if he's not. It would be all my fault, I took his gun. 

     A gentle knock on the door brought me to my feet. 

      "Detka, it's Zivon. You can come out now," his voice was gentle, and he spoke in a soothing manner.

     I nodded, even though I know he couldn't see it. Looking in the bathroom mirror, my face was stained with tears. The streaks traveled noticeably down my cheek, but I didn't care. I had to see Zivon. 

    Opening the door, I threw myself into his arms. His protective body engulfed my and a second wave of relief swept me. 

     I let out a sigh. I refuse to let him go, I couldn't let the feeling of safety leave me. I needed it. For the first time in my life I had found it, and I couldn't let it go. 

     So as I felt his dark heart thrum against his chest, I knew I had found safety in the darkest of people. I was broken, but so was he. 

     Resting my head in the crook of his neck, I closed he eyes and inhaled his scent. That's when I knew, I would never be able to let go of him. 

     My little piece of heaven in hell, my safety in the most dangerous times. Zivon.