Their Thief

Nine

Damaris Rana

I was awoken from my unconscious state by a pain in my chest.

I guess the brothers continued their assault after I passed out.

I could conclude from my wounds that were still bleeding and the still wet blood surrounding me, that I was probably only out for a few minutes.

Suddenly the pain in my chest skyrocketed, being more painful than most of the beatings and torture I have experienced from my father. My chest felt constricted and as though my heart was set on fire. Sweat beads were forming on my forehead as my breath came out quick, short, and laboured. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out as I opened my mouth. The pain continued for what felt like hours but was most likely a few minutes. Tears streamed from my eyes, blending in with my blood, then continued down my face and dripped onto the floor to join more of my blood.

What the fuck is happening to me?

As I was thinking that I couldn't take any more of the unbearable pain, it suddenly vanished. It disappeared as though it never happened in the first place. There was no lingering pain or discomfort, no sign that I had just experienced excruciating pain.

I didn't get to linger in my confused state for long. The exhaustion and pain from my aching wounds were lulling me back into the endless abyss of darkness that the chest pain had awoken me from.

***

It's been about twenty-three days since I was first locked in a cold, dark cell. There are no windows for me to count the days, but I was told that I would be visited every day to be tortured, so by counting all those times I came to the conclusion its been about twenty-three days, total of twenty-six if you count the ones I was unconscious for when I was first placed in here.

I have been continuously chained to the wall in the same position I was in when I first woke up, at this point, I've lost all feeling in my arms. Luckily they still don't know I'm a girl, I don't even want to think of the new forms of torture they would use if they found out, even my body is helping me keep my secret. I haven't gotten my period yet even though it's been over a month, I know that it's probably very unhealthy, but I'm still glad. I'm guessing it's due to the physical and mental stress and trauma, along with the malnutrition I'm suffering from. I've only been given food four times since I've been in here, a bowl of some nasty grey looking sludge.

They won't let my arms down even when I'm given food, the one who brings it has to feed me. His name is Max, he has red hair and green eyes, so far he's the nicest person I've met here. He's the only one that doesn't come down here to hurt me. You could say we're kinda friends, weird considering the fucked up situation I'm in, and that I don't talk to him. He tries to talk to me when he comes with my food, but I don't reply, sticking to the rules I've created for myself, but he still talks, telling me about his day, stories, or even news about what's going on in the world.

I'm back to how I was when I was living with my abusive father, worse even. The torture I experience in this hell is so much worse than the one I suffered at my father's hands. These people make me experience pain so much worse than what he did. They've also shown me various new way that someone can be tortured along with the ones my father used, reminding me that I should never have gone against their kings as they called them. They've conditioned me to fear them so much that the dimple thought of there names sends terror throughout my body.

I've readopted all the survival rules that I had created to minimize my suffering back then, made some new ones too. Never look my tormentors in the eyes, they take it as a challenge. Never speak when they are near, it gives them a reason to hurt me, not that they need one anyways. Never cry or beg, it satisfies their sadist desires and encourages them. Never reply to their questions, it's a trick. The most important one is, never trust anyone. I know people like them, they are just like my father.