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ANASTASIA 2
I don’t know what they have been giving me, but my head is woozy, and everything is still moving around. I don’t know how long it has been now since they kidnapped me from outside my home, but ever since then that they have moved me three times. I don’t know if it's day or night any longer as there are no windows down here, I don’t even know where I am.
At first, I still fought but then they started sedating me. Now I’m just too drained to do anything at all. I move my head on the matt I’m laying on to look across at the other matt where Dora is laying. I don’t even know if she’s still alive, I met her when they moved me into the second location, she was very quiet, withdrawn and hardly spoke but for a while now that she has not said a word. I know that she hasn’t been eating either because I heard one of the men muttering to himself when he came to get our plates.
Not that I blame her. All we have been getting to eat since being taken is two slices of bread with butter and water. I have pushed myself to eat everything and drink as much water as I can; I want to be ready when the gap comes for me to find a way out of this situation. Then I shake my head at myself as I think of what I am considering, how far would I make it, unless they stop injecting me with whatever they have been giving me I won’t be able to make it anywhere. I move first one leg side to side and then the other.
How did I get into this situation? Why would they want to take me? I ask for the millionth time. At the beginning I asked the men that held me, but I never got a reply, instead I got smacked around a few times. I tried to run the first day I was caught, that didn’t go too well as I was knocked unconscious. I just want to know what they are planning on doing with us. Why are they keeping us in this limbo for so long? If they have taken us for the sex trade shouldn’t they be taking better care of us?
Dora won’t be able to do much, that is, even if she is still alive. Even my weird gift that I have had ever since I was a teenager has deserted me. I lift my hand trying to manifest the coldness, the ice that I could so easily manifest at a simple whim. Now nothing happens. I place both hands flat besides me and push myself up until I am sitting up; I lean against the wall behind me, until my back is flush against the wall. The coolness of the wall penetrating my very dirty clothes, cooling me down.
I have been wearing the same yellow dress ever since they took me, at one time this was my favourite dress, now I would give anything to burn it and wear anything else. It is browner than yellow now, there is a tear on the skirt, and it smells.
I wonder what people must be thinking about my disappearance, Mr. Smith must be climbing the walls. He won’t know where anything is in the office as I am the one that does everything for him, as his personal assistant he makes sure to use me to my full potential, but I don’t mind as I know I am good at what I do and I am pleased that he trusts me enough to leave most of the things in my hands.
At first I didn’t think that I would work for him for very long as he came across as a real perv, but I soon put him in his place and he turned out to be a sweet man. He pays me well but after working for him for five years he knows that he can leave the office and things won’t fall apart. I’m a fixer, my personality excels at fixing problems, the fact that I can’t find a way out of this situation has my head in a knot.
My parents would have realized that I am missing and would have gone to the police by now. Are they looking for me? What will the worry of not knowing what happened to me do to my dad? He has a weak heart and I just pray that this doesn’t push him over the edge into getting another heart attack.
Maybe if I had a man in my life, this wouldn’t have happened, maybe he would have gone to pick me up at work. Most women at twenty-six already have a man in their lives but not me. Apparently, I’m too strong willed for most men. I always thought that one day I would meet the perfect man for me, that he would understand that I am my own person, that he wouldn’t try to control me but be my partner. I don’t believe in being owned; I believe in equal rights.
I’m like any other woman, I like to be pampered by a man; I like the attention and the sweet words but I want to be able to also contribute. I want to be able to also treat him and pamper him if I feel like it; I want him not to be bothered with the fact that I earn more than him if that is the case but everyone I have met till now has been the absolute opposite of what I am looking for.
Now I might never meet anyone that will love me, someone that I can love in return. I think every woman thinks of that epic love story that we meet that one person that loves us unconditionally with all our faults and that they understand us and don’t judge us when we in one of our moods because of our periods or because we wake up in a bad mood, does that even exist or is it all a fantasy that we all tell ourselves just to feel better and keep the dream going?
I hear a noise, my eyes open but there is no one, the overhead light is dim which helps to hide some filth in this area. I wonder how many women have been in this basement, how many women have been taken from their loved ones, from their families and brought into a life of sadness, of pain and maybe that is even dead by now.
I feel tears behind my eyes threatening to fall but I hold them at bay, I will not give up hope, I will not give in. I lift my arm and wince at the pain in my joints, my hand moves to my hair to pull it away from my face and I wince again at the knots that I feel in it. My hair is always a problem to untangle because of how curly it is but now with all this time going by and with it not being washed or combed I will never be able to take the knots out.
Dropping my hand to my lap once again I look at it, since I was a teenager that I have been able to lower my body temperature to the point where I can freeze liquid or little ice particles appear on my fingers. At first, I was scared when I realized that I was different, that others can’t do what I do. My parents were concerned and took me for tests, but I was told that nothing was wrong with me and I was a rarity where I could drop my body temperature. They wanted to do more tests on me to try and find out how I can do this, but my parents stopped it.
They warned me not to tell anyone because others might not understand, and they were right, I told a boyfriend of mine once and at first he seemed to accept it but with time he started to say that my heart was made of ice, that I was incapable of loving anyone and all because I would not conform to his way of wanting me to be. He wanted me to jump when he said jump and live my life according to what he thought was right and I couldn’t do that as I have always had a mind of my own even when I was young.
Needless to say, I never told another soul again, and now it seems like I will never need to say anything again as it looks like I can’t cool myself down any longer. The cold of the wall seeping into my back gives me some comfort, but I still feel like my insides are burning.
“Dora,” I call, my voice is slightly breathless but audible, “Dora, wake up,” she doesn’t move but I think I see her stomach moving slightly which tells me that she must still be alive. I hear another noise, this one on the stairs that leads down here, my body tensing as I think of the assholes that I have seen, it’s most probably bread and water time.
When a man comes into sight I frown, this one is new, I haven’t seen him before. He doesn’t have that evil feeling like the others do. His hair is a longish blond, looking windblown, his blue eyes seem to take everything in as he looks around. Even though he doesn’t have the evil feeling to him he seems much more dangerous than any of the other men I have seen here before.
“Is it only the two of you in here?” I frown at his question. What is he playing at, does he see anyone else here? When I don’t answer he frowns as he approaches, looking at Dora as he passes, “Do you understand me?” he asks as he squats down before me.
“I’m not stupid,” I mutter which has him smiling, this man is dangerous to every woman out there his smile is dazzling and makes me want to confide in him, which will just make me do the opposite.
“That’s good to know,” he says in amusement, “I am here to help you.”
“Of course, you are,” I say sarcastically, which has his smile disappearing and a frown take its place. I hear more footsteps coming down the stairs and even though I try to see behind him, his chest is so wide that I can’t see who has just come down.
“It’s okay sweetheart we are here to help you,” he says, and then he glances back over his shoulder and points to Dora, “Colborn see to the other one.” When he looks back at me he stretches out his hand towards mine which has me flinching back, I don’t care what he says, I don’t trust him, there have been way too many of these assholes trying to be friends ever since they took me, for me to believe in him.
“Get away from me,” I say and see him tense.
“We are going to get you out of here, we are the good guys,” he says in a quiet voice, but I shake my head as I see another man picking up Dora. Is he saying the truth, are they really here to help us?
And then he moves slightly and everything around me seems to still as I see a man standing a few feet behind him. He has the kindest eyes I have ever seen and even though he is as handsome as they come with straight brown hair that touches his shoulders. A stubble that must be so erotic when he kisses, and the naughtiest look to him that spells trouble, I am somehow drawn to him. He seems hesitant, as if he would rather just turn and leave right now.
“I will go with him,” I say, lifting my hand and pointing to the man standing behind him. To my surprise, I see the man take a step back as if he would rather do anything else instead of taking me out of here.
“No problem, sweetheart, Ulrich will help you upstairs,” the man before me says, as he stands up straight and then turns heading towards the man. What kind of name is Ulrich? I see him say something and the man reply but I can’t hear their interaction and then the man that was before me looks back at me with a surprised look on his face.
What the hell is going on? The man seems to straighten his shoulders and then he is stepping towards me, a scowl now on his face as if he’s not happy about doing this, well that’s just too bad isn’t it? When he is before me, he places an arm under my legs and then another behind me and picks me up. The sudden movement has my muscles complaining, which has me groaning in pain. He freezes with me halfway up, “Fuck,” he mutters, “I’m sorry,” the uncertainty in his face has me feeling sorry for him, the poor man seems to be appalled at my pain.
“It’s okay Ulrich,” I say and feel his arms tighten slightly as he pulls me the rest of the way up and against his chest. I don’t know if what the other guy said is true and they are here to help me but all I know is that in this man’s arms I am feeling safe, safe for the first time in a long time.
“What’s your name?” his voice is low and deep, like hot chocolate in a cold evening running over my body, giving me comfort in a strange kind of way. I lean my head against his chest hearing his heart, closing my eyes as everything starts to spin around me. He definitely lifted me up way too quickly.
“Anastasia,” and then I feel myself start to shake, what the hell is happening to me?
“Fuck,” I hear Ulrich saying and then we seem to be rushing upstairs, my head seeming to feel lighter and lighter with each minute that passes. “Get out of the fucking way, where’s Tor?” I hear him say as I seem to be drifting in and out of consciousness, my teeth chattering.
“Blood,” I seem to hear someone say and then there is a burst of intense sweetness in my mouth just as I start feeling myself being dragged down to darkness. I tighten my hand around Ulrich’s t-shirt, he needs to stay with me, I know I will be fine if he stays with me.
