Then I saw you

Paper Square

Astraea's POV.

The world is still dark. I open my eyes, but the only thing I see is darkness. A headache starts pounding away in my head; it feels like the worst hangover of my life. My hands reached up to my forehead to try and dull the pain. A quiet groan came from me. My eyes flutter as I try to focus, and my hands leave my head to push up and support myself.

My hands shake as I put my weight on them, and I keep pushing until I'm on my hands and knees. Finally, I'm up on my feet. I stumble slightly but ultimately stand. A dizziness came over as I turned around the room, looking for a way out. I didn't know where I was, but I knew one thing: I knew that I needed to get out.

A bright light illuminated the small, cell-like room I was in. I scurried back against a wall, trying to hide in the shadows, desperate to stay hidden. When someone passed by my cell, my heart rate sped up when the footstep stopped in front of the room I was in.

"Du weißt, ich kann dich immer noch sehen." The guard spoke, "Bitte lass mich einfach gehen." I pleaded silently. "Oh, sie spricht Deutsch." The man entered my cell and walked towards me. I tried to make myself smaller but to no avail. The man gripped my arm, pulled me towards him, and left the room. "Wohin gehen wir?" I naively asked, "Du wirst den Chef sehen."

Anxiety spread through my body. 'If you do what they ask you to, they won't hurt you.' Those words were what kept me from breaking down. I miss the feeling he gave me—the danger and the almost suffocating gentleness he showed when he was around me. It was a gentleness that I knew he didn't show to many people; it made me feel special. The man opened a big metal door; it reminded me of the doors banks have to their vaults. It wasn't locked, but it made it clear to me what kind of danger I was in.

After being forced into the room, I saw a man sitting in an office chair. Dark brown hair that was starting to turn gray, honey skin, and a sharp jawline covered with stubble. "Hello, Astraea, how nice of you to finally wake up." I didn't respond to him, trying not to anger anyone. "Come sit on my lap, love." I immediately obeyed him, scared of the consequences that might happen if I didn't. I sat more on his knee than his lap, and I didn't put my weight on him.

"Such an obedient girl, huh?" He praised me, and I could feel a blush creeping up on my face. I didn't want my body to react this way, but it was so rare that I got praise. Okay, I might also have a little bit of a praise kink. I looked down at my fingers on my lap, "Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you." He demanded, and my eyes quickly found his. We looked at each other in total silence. I mustered up enough courage to speak. "What's your name?" I whispered, and he smiled at me; it was a sick and twisted smile. "Call me Brock, love." I nodded my head.

Brook's hands started to roam over my body, and automatically I pulled away from him, trying to get out of his reach. "Don't do that." He hissed at me, gripping my wrists and holding me In place. I didn't answer him. Not answering him only seemed to make him angrier at me. "Get on your knees." He fumed, and my reply was slipping off of him and onto the ground on my knees. "Good girl," he praised. "Tristan, get out." He ordered the guard, who had followed me here and was still standing by the door.

Tristan exited the room, leaving Brock and me alone. "Finally," He breathed, I don't know what was up with him, his mood was all over the place, and my gaze locked on the floor. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, love." My eyes flew up to his, and I was greeted with a cocky smile. "Are you scared of me?" My brain searched for an answer; if I said I was, would that make him angry? Or if I said that I wasn't, would that push him to try and make me scared of him? I couldn't figure out what to say to him: "Answer me, Astraea." He commanded impatiently. "I'm not scared of you; I'm scared of what you could do to me." My answer was vague but true." What are you scared of that I could do to you?"

"Rape me." I didn't think before I spoke, which resulted in immediate regret. "Mhm, tempting, but I think it's a little early." Tears built in my eyes. I knew that I might not be raped today, but it was undeniable that I was going to get violated. My tears almost started falling when the words of the guy that took me repeated in my mind, 'You can't let them see you cry, doll.' I toughed it out and pulled myself together. At that moment, I tugged my feelings as far down as I could and just focused on surviving.

"Stick your tongue out, love." I did as told. Brock pulled out a small sip-lock baggie, one of those that were so small only drug dealers used them. There was a small sheet of square paper-like material in it with little hearts on each little square. Brock broke one square off and looked at me. "Are you ready?" I nodded, and he placed the square on my tongue. He pushed my jaw closed and smiled down at me. "Tristan, come get her and put her in the cell." He shouted, scaring the living daylight out of me. The guard came stumbling into the room and dragged me out. I let the paper dissolve on my tongue.

The walk back to my 'room' seemed longer than before. I had decided not to call it a cell to try and keep my sanity. "Did you know that Tristan means Sad or Melancholy? It's similar to the French word triste, which also means sad." I started babbling; he didn't reply, so I continued my rant: "My name is Astraea. It has Greek and Latin Origin, it means 'Star maiden' or 'starry-night' Astraea is also the goddess of justice, innocence, purity, and precision in classical mythology"

We stopped at my room, and he forced me in there, locking the door behind me. "I didn't even get to explain the rest of my name." I pouted as he walked away from me. "Hello?" I asked out in the darkness. No answer. "Halloo?" In total silence, I sat down against the wall, hugging myself. Since no one responded, I started to sing to myself in a desperate attempt to try and calm myself.

"When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here's what she said to me." I slowly stood up and leaned against the bars. "Que será, será Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que será, será What will be, will be." I started dancing around in my own little world, in my mind, I was performing at the bar.

"When I grew up and fell in love, I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead. Will we have rainbows day after day? Here's what my sweetheart said: Qué será, será Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Qué será, será What will be, will be." I could hear someone lowly singing along with the song, but I was too wrapped up in my world to mind it.

"Now I have children of my own. They ask their mother, What will I be? Will I be handsome? Will I be rich? I tell them tenderly. Qué será, será Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see Qué será, será What will be, will be Qué será, será." It was clear now that someone was singing along, but at last, everything must end.

Wow, I'm such a poet, huh? "What's your name?" I asked the voice. Nothing. "I know you're there; I heard you singing." Nothing. "Come on, please talk to me; I promise I don't bite." I giggled. "You couldn't hurt me even if you did." The voice finally replied.

"My name is Calvin,"