I should open my eyes. I should take in my surroundings, but the world is much more peaceful with my eyes closed. I’ve seen it with my eyes open, and I’d much rather view it through closed eyes now.
“You can open your eyes.” The nameless man’s voice is low, husky even, and there’s something about it that calms me...that shuts down every irrational fear.
I do as he asks and open my eyes, even though I don’t want to, not really. As soon as they’re open, I’m looking right up at him. His features are slack, and he seems more relaxed than he did back in the cell.
“What’s your name?”
“Sophie,” I whisper, my voice so small, I’m not even sure he heard me.
“I’m Roman,” is all he says before heading down a long hallway. He brings me to a bedroom door. He opens it, and for a moment, I’m scared of what he might do to me. Not once did I second guess where this man was taking me or what he planned to do with me, and that was stupid of me to assume he won’t hurt me the same way my parents did.
It’s his job. It’s why I was brought here, right? To be broken, raped, forced to do whatever I’m told to. I can’t picture the man holding me doing any of those things, though, and the fear fades away when he places me on the bed, pulling a huge quilt over me.
“Don’t go to sleep yet. You need to eat and drink something. Just give me a minute and I’ll get you something.” He eyes me, exhaling a ragged breath, looking as if he might be a little frustrated. “You just…don’t move,” he orders, then disappears into the hallway. I take the moment of him being gone to look around the room. It's a nice, but simple bedroom. There are no pictures or any other personal items, which leads me to believe this is a guest room. It’s got minimal decorations. The bed underneath me is incredibly soft. The quilt he covered me up with is heavy and warm.
He returns a short time later with a plate of food and a glass of milk. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he puts the plate on my lap.
“Eat,” he orders, his eyes moving to the plate. I look down. A cut-up apple with peanut butter smeared on each slice. The effort he took to make it makes me smile. It’s something small, but it’s so much more than I’m used to.
“It’s energy food—exactly what you need right now. You need to build up your strength.”
I almost smile…almost.
I pick up a piece of the apple, noticing how thin and sickly my hand looks. Lifting it to my mouth, the strong aroma of the peanut butter has saliva building in my mouth. My stomach growls, demanding me to eat it even though I don’t want to. I take a small bite and start chewing it thoroughly.
“There you go. You should start to feel a little better after you finish eating. You can take a shower if you want.” He points to a closed door, which I’m guessing is an attached bathroom, then he picks up the glass of milk and hands it to me, urging me to take a drink.
I do what he wants and take a greedy sip. I don’t understand his kindness or why he brought me into this room and gave me food if all I’m to be used for is sex.
“Why…why did you bring me here?” I ask him, feeling uneasy.
“Would you rather go back to the cell?” His response is offensive and makes me realize how much I don’t want to be back inside that cell.
“No…I just don’t understand. Why did you buy me? Aren’t you supposed to be raping me by now? Or beating me, or giving me to some of your rich friends?” I wonder for a moment if this is all a ploy, a dream turned into a nightmare. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
“What the fuck!” he roars, and I move back toward the headboard, trying to put space between us. Fury flickers in his eyes, and I worry for a moment he may hit me. I lift my hands and shield my face.
“First, you think I’m going to rape you, and now, you’re cowering like I’m going to fucking hurt you or something.” I peek through my fingers and see his nostrils flaring. His eyes are still burning with molten lava rage, but it’s obvious he doesn’t plan to hurt me, which is surprising.
“I-I’m s-sorry…” I stutter, lowering my hands, taking in his tense form. “That’s just what they said was going to happen to me when they took me from my home. I thought you were the man who bought me.”
He sighs, running a hand through his thick brown mane. “My brother and I are not the people who took you. The man who took you and wanted to sell you is dead. We took over his business, but we don’t sell woman anymore. That’s why we told you to go back home.”
“I don’t wanna go back home,” I whimper at the thought. I’d rather slit my own wrists than go back to my parents.
“I know, and that’s why you’re here.” I still don’t quite understand why he took me from that cell and brought me here. He has no real reason to care for me, yet he’s letting me stay in what I’m assuming is his house? It makes no sense.
“Is this your home?” I ask, picking up the discarded pieces of apple lying on the quilt from my hasty movements.
“Yes.” His voice is clipped, as if something about me is irritating him. He doesn't elaborate any further, and for a few moments, an uncomfortable silence forms between us. I keep alternating between taking small bites of apple and small sips of milk until my stomach feels heavy and full.
“I don’t think I can eat anymore,” I admit, lifting my eyes to his. They’re darker now and contain an unreadable emotion.
“That’s fine. You can eat more later.” He takes the plate from me and gets up. He starts to walk out the door, and fear pricks up my spine. The thought of being alone terrifies me, which is strange since I was alone in that cell for what seemed like forever. The feeling sneaks up on me, and I try to push it down as much as I can. I just want to stay numb. I am not ready to feel scared again—or feel anything, for that matter.
“Roman?” I let his name roll off my tongue. He turns while standing in the doorway. I notice then how big he is. His entire body barely fits through the doorframe. I drag my eyes down to the blue quilt sprawled across my body. I want to ask him to stay here with me, but I chicken out at the last moment.
“May I take a shower?”
“Yeah...sure. Everything is in that bathroom.” He nods in the direction of the door on the other side of the room. “I don’t have any girl clothes here, so I’ll give you one of my shirts for now. I’ll talk to my brother about maybe having his girlfriend take you shopping for some female shit. We will get it worked out.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, wringing my hands together. A swarm of butterflies fills my belly. For whatever reason, I feel safe with this man, and because it makes no sense to me, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop—for something bad to happen.
He looks at me for a long moment before he walks out into the hall, leaving me alone in the bedroom. As soon as he is out of sight, my chest constricts. It feels like I can’t breathe, like someone is sitting on my chest.
I force myself from the bed and hiss at the contact of my bare feet against the cold floor. I grip the knob of the bathroom door and push it open. Reaching for the light switch, I flick it on. A soft illuminating light emits from the ceiling, and I tiptoe inside, taking in the entire room with a shocked expression.