Alek

Chapter 22: Mae Kazimi

Chapter 22: Mae Kazimi

I wake up tied to a chair and light blinding my eyes. Shaking hair out of my face, I look around the large room, blinking.

I've been left in a shabby-looking large warehouse, the hall long and rectangular that seems to stretch on and on. Above, the ceiling is broken, light shining down and onto my wet body, warmth filling my skin and making my toes tingle. To my left and right, there are large opened doors leading into pitch darkness and the walls of the warehouse are peeling black and grey paint, the wood old and the ground fill with broken pieces of wood and droppings.

Where the hell am I?

It hurts when I swallow and my head feels heavy. The pain in my legs is gone, but the one in my ribs remains. My clothes feel sticky and disgusting.

"Hello?" I call, hands tied to the back of a chair. "Who's there?"

No one apparently.

The silence is deafening. I close my eyes, hoping to hear any noise that will help me discover where the men possibly have taken me. But there's nothing, not a sound. I can't hear any cars nor any factories. Not even the sound of machines.

I take in a shaky breath and open my mouth to yell again when a man walks out of the shadows, a black ski mask covering his face and a bat in his hands.

I watch him circle me as if I am his prey, and I can see his brown eyes raking down my body. I bring my eyes to stare at the floor, looking at a piece of dirt that lies near my feet and strain on it.

"A Kazimi, eh?" he says, sounding as if he's grinning behind the mask. "Tell me about your father."

This is what I've feared all these years.

Getting into shit with people who think I have connections with my father who runs the American mafia.

"I don't have any contact with him," I say raspily, clearing my throat. "He cast me out when I was born."

"Lies," the man says, stopping before me. "No one would leave their child out in the dumpster."

I can't help but say, "You'd be surprised about what people do."

I can see his eyes flash and he flicks his hand and two men scurry out of the pitch dark room, carrying a large bucket full of water.

Great. So this is how my weekend is going to go.

Though I am starving, I feel more energized. I feel rested and I know that fainting did wonders for me last night.

"Bring her here," the man barks.

I watch as the two men approach me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me off the chair. I don't fight because I know that it will be no use, so when they force me onto my knees in front of the large bucket, I say nothing and stare emptily in the distance.

"I'm going to ask again, tell me about your father," the man says, getting all up close and personal.

I sigh loudly through my nose, "Who hired an ammature like you?"

I know this is going to lead to a worst beating than the men had already planned, but look, I couldn't help myself.

The man grabs me by the back of my head and shoves my face into the water in the bucket. I don't move nor do I fight back. I keep my eyes closed as my lungs threaten to explode and my head begins to pound with pressure.

He pulls me out and I gasp for air. Water is running down my shirt once more and my hair is soaked.

"Tell me about your father," he repeats, shaking me hard.