I stripped my dirty gown from my body before turning on the water. Once the water was warm—almost too warm—I stepped in and closed the glass door. The water poured over me, washing the filthaway.
Itfeltlike heaven. I could die here and nevercomplain.
Spotting the shampoo, I began to wash my hair. I washed my entire body and hair over and over until the water ran clean. I also put a bunch of conditioner in my hair, hoping to lessen the tangles. I hadn't had a brush or comb inyears.
When the water grew cold, I sadly shut it off and wrapped a fluffy white towel around me. I put on the pair of gray yoga pants and black shirt that were lying on the counter. They were big, but clean and warm; a lot better than that filthy gown I was forced to wear over the last threeyears.
“I’ll brush your hair while we talk a little,” a voice said as I was putting the towel back on the hook by theshower.
I jumped at his voice, my heart doubling in speed. How long had he been there? Had he watched me take a shower? What would he want fromme?
“I just got here,” he said quickly when he saw my frightened eyes. “Now, come take a seat, please.” He went and sat on the bed, which now had clean sheets and a green checkered comforter foldedback.
Schooling my face, I ignored the mirror as I walked back into the room, keeping my head down. My wet hair dripped down my back. The man sat on the bed, towards the middle, so I had more than enough room to sit in front of him on the floor. He had a brush in his hand that he was playing with as he watchedme.
“Come sit,” he demanded gently as he tapped the spot in front ofhim.
I obeyed, stiff and unsure. I was used to knowing what to expect in my predictable ugly life. I had known I would be abused, yelled at, and forced to do things I never thought I would ever have todo.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said as I sat in front of him. He put a soft warm towel around my shoulders and slowly began to brush my black hair, being extremely gentle with the tangled mess. “I used to brush my sister’s hair quiteoften.
“What’s your name?” he asked, almost too quiet for me tohear.
“Dawn, Sir,” I answered in a hoarse voice as I stared blankly at the wall across theroom.
“Dawn what?” heprompted.
“Dawn Ellis, Sir,” I half whispered, half cried, expecting the punishment I would have endured from MasterGalvin.
“No need to cry, sweet girl,” he whispered as he leaned in towards my hair. “I wasn’t clear about what I wanted. You won’t be punished for my mistake. You won’t ever be punished cruelly in my house.” Moving back, he continued the work on my hair. “I am Elijah Brown, but if anyone asks, it’s Elijah Hunter. You are to address me as Sir, or Elijah, or even Mr. Hunter, unless otherwisetold.
“You are welcome to take a shower every day if you’d like,” he finished, beginning to braid my hair. His voice was quiet andcalm.
Being in the company of a man for so long usually meant he would demand my services in some sort of fashion. I wasn’t the best at some of the things the men wanted from me, but I everything in my power to keep them happy, no matter what. That way, I had less punishment on most days. This man—Elijah—didn’t seem to want anything fromme.
“All done,” Elijah said with a smile in his voice. He slowly got up off the bed and I automatically ducked my head down. I wasn’t allowed to make eye contact without permission. I heard him sigh as though he were disappointed aboutsomething.
“You still have a fever, Dawn,” he said as he felt my forehead with the back of his hand. “Get in bed. Rest. Try to sleep some more. I will bring some soup up in abit.”
I nodded as I hastily moved to the bed and laid my head down on the pillow. He smiled sadly at me. “You obey very well. Now rest.” He made sure I was tucked in before dimming the lights and leaving the room, keeping the door cracked open an inch. Tears suddenly filled my eyes because of the care he had shownme.
I can't trust him. I can't trust anyman.
My eyes closed on their own, much easier than I’d thought they would. I’d never been allowed to sleep so much, no matter how sick I was. I’d only really been sick a few times while I’d been held in the cell, and never this bad. My entire body hurt. I could feel my body wanting to cough, but I did my best to not allow it, so I wouldn't draw attention tomyself.
Attention was never a good thing in mylife.
