ADELINE
HE JUST LEFT. I wait with baited breath, thinking that he'll return.
But he never does.
My breathing becomes more erratic as my anxiety spikes to a new high. A sob rips through my throat as I struggle to stand and make my way across the room to the adjoining bathroom. I close the door, pressing my back against it. Flicking on the ceiling light, I turn and search for a lock on the door, but there isn't one. Desperate, I stare around the room. There's a bathtub and shower combo with glass doors, toilet and a cabinet with a built-in sink. I swing open the cabinet doors, hoping for something I can use as a weapon. There are towels, toilet paper and other bathroom necessities, but nothing that will prove to be helpful in my situation.
Feeling frustrated, I lean against the sink and let out a painful moan. My entire body feels sore like I was hit by a Mack truck, and then the truck backed up and ran over me again. My head is pounding with the worst headache I've ever felt in my life, and my legs feel like they're being weighted down with lead bars.
A large rectangular mirror is above the sink, and I slowly meet my reflection in it. I gasp at the sight before me, not believing that's it really me that I'm seeing. I'm covered in blood and dirt and god knows what else. Black streaks of mascara stain my cheeks as if I'd been crying for hours.Maybe I was, I think to myself.
My hand shakes violently as I bring my fingertips up to my temple where blood is caked and matted into my tangled hair. When I touch the wound, I hiss and cry out in pain.
I back away from the mirror, no longer able to face the pure, undiluted fear present in my eyes. Staring down at the stained nightdress I'm wearing, I cry out in frustration and rip it over my head. I ball it up in my hands angrily and throw it in the corner of the room. I fold my arms across my breasts and run my hands up and down my scraped and dirty arms, barely keeping it together. I'm on the verge of hyperventilating as I drag ragged breaths in and out of my lungs.
I can't remember the past however many hours of my life. I don't know who has had their hands on me, where I've been, what happened to me or where I am now. I've never felt so dirty and scared in my entire life.
With the sudden urge to feel clean, I walk to the shower and run the water until it's the perfect temperature. I rummage under the sink and snatch a few clean, fluffy towels. I set them on the sink before I step into the shower under the spray of water.
I groan in ecstasy at the feeling of the water cascading down my body. I put my hands against the wall and face away from the spray, letting the warmth hit my back. I stay like that for a long time, relishing in the comfort.
When I glance up, I notice that there is a shower caddy filled with an assortment of shampoos, conditioners, body washes and soaps. I grab one of the shampoos and pour a large amount into the palm of my hand before returning it to the caddy. It smells like coconut as I suds my hair up and scrub vigorously, being careful of the sore spot on the side of my head.
I rinse and repeat two more times. Then I set out to wash the rest of myself, using half a bottle of the peach-smelling body wash before I finally feel clean.
The desperation of my situation slowly begins to set in, and I wonder how the hell I'll ever escape from this man --- Lucien, as he calls himself. Tears stream down my face and mix in with the water as I sob under the stream of water.
I have no idea where I am or why I'm here. When I mentioned my father paying a ransom, he didn't give me any inclination that he's interested in money. If he doesn't want money, then he must want something else.
Me.
The thought of being raped and it being my first time completely guts me, and I sob even harder. I slap my hands against the tile, screaming out in agony.
Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?
And then I remember that my sisters never deserved what happened to them either. When you grow up in the Italian mob, bad things are expected to happen. My father explained that to me from a young age.
He molded me into the perfect daughter, but apparently that wasn't enough to keep me safe. If only Giovanni wouldn't have wanted to walk home…
Giovanni.
A beam of light in this dark situation suddenly shines through. Giovanni would have seen who took me, and he would have told my father. Maybe they're working together right now and trying to track me down.
But then a more sinister thought creeps into my mind…what if Giovanni is dead? What if the man kidnapped me and killed him?
Fresh tears surface and stream down my face as I cry for what feels like forever. If Giovanni is dead, then all hope for anyone to come save me is gone. No one will know where I am, and I'll be stuck here…maybe forever…or until this man ---Lucien--- wants to kill me.
It isn't until the water starts to run cold that I finally get out of the shower.
I dry off, wrapping a dry towel around my long hair and tying it on top of my head in a sort of turban. Realizing I don't have anything to change into, I bite my lower lip and think about my options. I don't know who could be in my room. What if Lucien came back? Or what if it's someone else?
He told me that he's the one who bought me, but are there more monsters lurking out there like him?
I stare at the door. It's not locked. In all reality, they could have come in if they really wanted to.
Strumming up some courage, I yank the door open and peer out. The room is silent…empty. Slowly, I creep out of the bathroom, my feet sinking into the plush carpet as I walk.
Sunlight streams through the two skylights high up in the ceiling, but I can only see fluffy, white clouds in the bright blue sky. There aren't any other windows in this room, and that thought depresses me even further. I at least wanted to see some familiar surroundings, to know that my father might be closer than I originally thought and that I could be going home soon.
