Chapter 5
Avidya
The next time I woke up, I felt more like myself. Unlike the last time, I was completely alone. I took a moment to stretch out my body, hearing my ankles pop in the process. I was happy to feel more like myself and not in pain.
Upon sitting up, I found a pile of clothes folded neatly at the end of the bed. A piece of white paper sat atop the pile. Crawling on my hands and knees, I reached out for the folded paper and slowly read the words. I was confused but yet grateful all the same.
Enjoy a shower. Help yourself to food in the kitchen.
~ Z.
After taking a shower, feeling stronger this morning – was it morning? – and putting the clothes on that fit me better than I expected, I headed out of the room. The clothes were simple, but moremethan anything I had ever worn my entire life. I didn’t even know what I liked most of the time as everything I owned was allowed under my parent’s strict rules. I was expected to dress like my parents had more money than they really did, but at the same time modestly.
These clothes, comfortable dark washed jeans and a tank top with an off the shoulder cream sweater were comfortable and warm. They were more my style than anything my mom ever bought me.
I walked quietly, taking in the décor, or lack of, and learning the layout. I was still confused about everything, and finding I was alone didn’t help, nor did it soothe me.
I had no idea for sure whoZwas, or what he wanted with me. It didn’t matter how smoking hot he appeared to be. What about the men who took me in the dead of night?
I could run, leave this place. But where would I go? How far would I even make it? Not far, surely. I was too weak to run much of anywhere. My entire body was still slightly sore, so I knew that I wouldn’t make it very far. Or far enough to even count as trying.
Maybe this was a test - me being here on my own. Maybe the man wanted to see what I would attempt to do if left on my own.
With a sigh, I stood in front of the open white fridge, looking to see what there was to eat. I debated on letting myself starve but didn’t feel like taking that much energy to do so. I loved food too much to ever really consider that option.
There wasn’t really much in the fridge food wise, other than milk, eggs, and yogurt. Nothing at all that sounded appealing. I was craving something greasy, which I wasn’t normally allowed to have.
The kitchen was smaller than the one in my parent’s house. Dark tile ran the length of the room, wood cupboards, and white countertops. It looked so normal for a place that hid such darkness.
Not finding anything that didn’t take a lot of work to make, I shut the fridge and turned around.
In the next breath, my heart skipped a beat. Not once, but twice, as terror froze me to my spot. My eyes widened and I held in my scream.
There on the other side of the kitchen stood a man I had seen a number of times before. His skin was as dark as the brown sweater I used to love that Becca would let me borrow on school days. Matching dark hair and brown eyes on his aging face were kind as he stood back, letting me get used to the idea that he was here.
He gave me a sad, but yet knowingly smile as he held up a McDonald’s take along bag.
“Food?” he asked with a nod of his head, not dropping his eyes from my widened ones. He didn’t react to my presence at all like I thought he would.
I stood there dumbfounded. It couldn’t be. Just . . . no!
“Avidya,” he said, just as quiet, taking a few steps towards me. “Here.” He placed the bag onto the white countertop beside me. “Eat. Mr. Melendez will be back later. Till then, I’m to keep you company.”
My heart beat twice as fast as he turned his back, making himself at home. He seemed as if this was nothing out of the ordinary for him. And maybe it wasn’t. Was this his side job? Keeping track of kidnapped victims?
After checking to make sure that the food hadn’t been tampered with, I stuffed it into my mouth as if I was starving. The untouched hot cup of coffee was amazing to wash down the food.
Finishing, I tossed the trash in the trashcan next to the sink that was hidden behind a cupboard. I peeked to where the guard I assumed was sitting in the living room, and within sight of the kitchen. I didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to hear his story or reasons for being here. His reasons for playing with my parents, if he had.
The thought of my parents sent a small pang of dismay to my heart. Did they have a part in all this? Could they have? It couldn’t be true since they were – are – so protective of me.
Jonas Carter helped in the church beside my father and alongside a few other men. He was a people person, listening and giving advice when needed. He had joined my father about three years ago but was well known in the community before that. Jonas was the type of man that helped just about anyone if they asked; the typical handyman that didn’t ever ask for anything in exchange. I could never picture him here, as this person that sat in that other room.
“Finished?” he asked, looking around the kitchen before letting his eyes fall on me once more, bringing me out of my thoughts. I stood there, arms wrapped around my torso trying to hold myself together. I had so much to say, yet nothing at all. What could someone say in this situation? Was I able to just pretend that this didn’t happen and that I wasn’t in the same breathing space as this man that I now viewed as one of my enemies?
“Let’s have a chat, Vidie,” he said, motioning towards the living room.
“Avidya,” I seethed. There was no way I was going to let this man I had thought was a family friend call me anything but my given name. He completely lost that right.
