The sun had set, said goodbye to all the evil and all the happiness it had witnessed. As I slipped under the covers, I turned off the lamp beside me and let my mind take me on a few worrisome and tiring adventures.
My life was complete shit. There's no sugar coating it. But then again, I knew others had it worst. I lived alone in a small loft in the middle of the most dangerous city in Red Rock. The number of times I had come home to a broken door and all my things gone had surpassed the number of fingers on my hands. So, I resorted to owning nothing. Sleeping on the ground wasn't so bad, if you ignore the painful back spasms I got throughout the day.
I barely made enough money to pay rent, and when I was lucky I had a meal once a day. A week? I think it was a week. A week was the longest I had ever gone without eating. Though, forty-eight hour fasts were pretty common. Maybe I should have been religious? Maybe then, my fasts would have brought some type of blessing.
Haha, right. Fuck that.
That day, I hadn't eaten so sleep came fast. It helped dull the pain for a while. It made me forget of my reality. My eyelids became heavy, and the darkness became darker.
I was startled awake. There was nothing, no noise, no one, I closed my eyes in confusion. What had woken me up? And then I felt it. The worst pain I had ever felt. Worse than hunger. Worse than thirst. I couldn't believe there was such a thing.
It crawled up from my feet to the tips of my hands. Like my entire body was convulsing in one unified cramp. Like all my bones were being broken, and then rebroken, and then rebroken. A fire had been set deep within me. Turning my insides into puddles. Melting my muscles. I was paralyzed in shock, fear and pain. I could not even open my mouth to scream. Is this how I was going to die? Please. I wanted death at that point. I was begging for the Reaper to come and take me away. Anything. Anything that could take my pain away, I wanted it.
Before long, my body gave up. Yes, finally. I thought I was going to die. I closed my eyes, engulfed by darkness, and the pain disappeared.
My body was numb, my eyes were closed but I could hear my heavy breathing just fine.
What? I’m alive?
My eyelids weighed about five tons at the moment and, for the life of me, I could not open them. There was a dull throb of pain radiating through my body. It was like there was a disconnection between my brain and every nerve in my body, I couldn’t move anything and I couldn’t feel anything but the pain.
I had managed to open my mouth, and that’s when I realized how thirsty I was.
That was the only word, or, I guess, sound that I managed to make.
What the fuck? Who was in my room?
His voice was deep and unamused. I heard feet shuffling until I felt a breeze next me, like you do when someone rushes to your side.
In the next moment, I felt a large calloused hand on my face, squeezing my cheeks together. It somehow rebooted my nerves and pain shot from my jaw, alerting my brain that something was wrong.
I felt him get closer to my face. His breath playing around my neck, “Open your fucking eyes.” He whispered through gritted teeth.
There was a part of me that wanted to see who he was, and a part of me that didn’t. But my eyes made their own choice and they fluttered open.
What the fuck?
My eyes squinted in confusion. I wasn't in my room, I wasn't even in my apartment. There were two men, the one holding my face and the other standing by the door way. The room we were in- wait, it wasn't really a room, it was a cell. Gray cinder blocks made up the walls, and a big wooden door with a barred window closed it off. There were no windows and it smelled dingy and musty. I was laying on a bed, my feet and arms chained to the posts. My shoulders were in stinging pain.
When I took a second look at the chains around my ankles, I realized my body was bare. How had I not felt that before? My eyes raked my body, which was skinnier than usual. I caught glimpses of the bruises lining my body. The bruises hurt me internally, but what really caught my attention were two big bruises that were on my hips. They almost looked like handprints. As I connected the dots, I began to feel a hot pain inside me. My thighs began to tremble and I felt like my vagina had been torn, like it was turned inside out.
My eyes widened in shock, tears streaming down my face and sobs escaping my mouth. The man holding my face let me go before letting out a loud and booming laugh. The man by the door just shook his head and smirked.
Once he finished laughing, he leaned in to my face and whispered, "When you see Phoenix, please tell him of what I stole from you."
Who the fuck is Phoenix?
I frown at him, disgust evident in my face. Tears turning into rivers on my face.
He smiled, "Don't worry, you'll know soon enough." He turned to walk away while saying something to the other man. They both left the room.
I layed on the bed, sobbing. My body wasn't mine anymore. There was no familiarity in it. No beauty. Will I ever know it again? Will I ever love it again? I wished so badly to be able to curl in a ball. To break the chains and hold my body. Caress it and remind it that it is worth more that the cruelty this world had shown it. But, I was too weak. I could do nothing but cry.
The next week was a blur. They brought me bread and water twice a day. Enough, but not enough. My stomach cried for more. It wouldn't have been so bad, because I knew what it meant to be hungry and thirsty, but it was accompanied by much worse.
I learned how to tune it out. It didn't matter to me where my brain went, just not in the present reality. Whatever sounds I could think of to drown away his grunts, I thought of. Whatever images I could think of to erase his smirking face, I thought of. Whatever pleasing sensations I could think of to distract from the pain in my hips, thighs and vagina, I thought of. Blurry and painful was my week in hell.
On the last night I would ever spend there, I hear him walking down the stairs. Throughout the week I had learned that his name was Ryan. To this day, hearing the name Ryan makes me vomit. I hear him jingle through his keys, looking for the one that opens my door, my last defense. I turn my face to the wall, trying to drown out the sounds. Nevertheless, I hear him walk to the foot of my bed. I hear his zipper and the metal of his belt as he undoes his pants.
"Tonight..." His voice startles me, he never talks to me, just does what he wants and leaves, "I want you to look at me."
He had begun to reach down to my face and was about to grab me when we both heard a loud commotion. I turned to face the door when I heard loud footsteps coming our way. Ryan also turned, with a frown on his face.
"What the FUCK is going on!?" He yells in desperation.
Out of nowhere, Mack, his right hand man, runs through the door, "He's here!"
Ryan's eyes widen in shock, "What?! How did he find us?"
"I don't know."
"We weren't fucking expecting him for another week."
"I know. Ryan, we're not ready for this."
He scowled at his fearful friend, "We make do with what we have. Take her to the roof, I'll meet you there soon."
Mack nods and runs up to me as Ryan leaves the room.
He unchains me and places a huge t-shirt over my head. I didn't have the energy to talk the week that I was there, every time I opened my mouth, a sob would come out. So, I also didn't have the energy to run or fight. I had come to the conclusion that being bed-ridden for a week would leave me too weak to walk. In all honesty, I had given up. Even if I had managed to escape, where would I go?
Mack picked me up from the bed and began to walk me up the stairs, for what seemed like forever. We finally reached a door and he walked through it. Instantly, I was hit by the wind. I closed my eyes and took in the fact that I was outside. That I could smell something other than that dingy cell and Ryan's disgusting breath.
When I opened my eyes I looked out at the buildings. The lights on through the windows, the sound of cars and sirens. My heart ached. Here was the world, spinning and going on normally as if I never left my old life. No one knew I was missing. Nothing in the world changed. I walked to the edge of the building as Mack was yelling like a maniac into his walkie talkie.
When I reached the ledge, I knew this was my time. I finally had a way out of this pain. A release. I touched the cold concrete with my hand and thanked it for giving me permission to climb and jump to my death. I gathered all my strength and grunted loudly as I climbed up. My stance was shaky as I looked down at the streets that had become welcoming arms.
I took a step forward, closed my eyes and felt the wind beneath my body.
Goodbye cruel world.