Heaven in Hell

Captured

ROSHESH'S POV:

What if there was a machine invented to extract the sweat which was uselessly dripping from my body and convert it into water which my body desparately needs? We could keep it strapped to us all day. No need to ever worry about dehydration.

It takes a second for me to realise the awesomeness of the thought and come to the conclusion that I'm dehydrated. Well, the stream is too far back and there is no way I would make it there so might as well plough forward.

My head spins but I keep going until I see Chief standing there leaning against a tree. Like that would happen. He would never just stand there doing nothing. Besides, he doesn't know where I am. I keep moving until I'm right in his face. Suddenly, I'm filled with the urge to flick his nose. I giggle hysterically at just the thought. He would have pummeled me before I got that close. My giggles are short lived, just like me when Chief kicks my shins. Oh fuck man! He is fucking real!!

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My entire body could use some relief but the only thing I get is the sight of Chief with a stick. And it is not a thin one.

After filing my stomach with just enough water to get me rehydrated, I was forcefully stripped and my wrists were tied and arms outstretched to the back at shoulder level before hooking the damn wrist tie at the wall. The hook was so high that I had to stand on my tippy toes to not snap my shoulder. Whenever my legs got some relief, my arms took the extra burden and to give my arms some relief, my toes had to be used. It was a fluent dance between balancing both and I was exhausted. The cold air in the room combined with my almost naked body sweating from exhertion did not help either. The constant loud drumbeat music, probe lights and dripping water on my head is all adding to the mounting frustation and pain.  The days of trying to evade him were finally catching up on me. I have no idea how long I stood here but I'm sure it is double digit hours, if not a day. My arms and legs are killing me and my stomach is grumbling for some food. At this point, I would kill for even water. Oh, and a bathroom break. Heck, I would trade food for some silence and shove some up this water vessel's ass to make it stop dripping. Chinese fuckers knew exactly the right torture for sure.

Chief's presence brings some sense to my mind but I'm in no position to defend or move an inch. My only option is to take what he gives and hope to God that I make it.

Before I can think too much, Dad is brought in with a cloth to his face. His presence brings an instant relief to my face. Atleast I'm not as worse as him. His entire body is green and yellow with few cuts and he is dragging his legs while he walks. But with Chief, your relief is always shortlived.

Dad pees in the room before being escorted out leaving me with the stinking smell. Great. We are going to be unhygienic too. Well, atleast I don't need to hold it in. I mean, one or two doesn't matter. Unhygienic is unhygienic, right?

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I'm now shaking with effort to just keep my eyes open. The music is now a killer headache in my brain. I can't even differentiate if it is just in my head or is it even playing at this point. My entire body feels like a bed of needles and I have seen long lost the pain indicator in my head. Everything is too numb at this point except my head. My dreams only consist of food and water. Ironic, isn't it? I want the damn water to stop dripping and I also wanted water. Holy water gushing down my dry sandpapery throat making it lush again. I keep falling asleep when the water stops dripping until my body gives way to gravity and the sharp pain of almost dislocating my arm brings me to awake-land.