The Self-conscious Submissive

Unconscious

-Dylan

I'm in a small office. There's a lady in a nun's outfit and a man with a white collar staring at me. I'm sitting in a chair in front of their desk as they smile waiting patiently for me to answer their questions.

"Je ne comprends pas," I reply.

Their smile drops, "Look honey, I get that you're scared but if you don't answer our questions we can't help you."

Je ne comprends pas," I say again.

The nun sighs and shakes her head at the white-collared man. A knock comes on the door and I smell the most delicious smell I've smelt in my whole life. Another Nun comes in holding a dish with a cover over it. They set the dish down in front of me and I close my eyes as the smell of dough, cheese, and pepperoni fills my senses. My mouth waters and my lip trembles.

The nun's lip twitches up and she nods to the white-collared man. The second nun smiles and walks out of the room leaving the 3 of us alone. As soon as the door closes the nun reaches forward and uncovers the dish revealing exactly what I thought I smelt. A large slice of pepperoni pizza looking all greasy and delicious sitting right in front of me. I reach forward to grab it and she slams the cover back on the plate.

I look up at her my mouth wide open and betrayal written all over my face. 

"Now let's try this again," the nun says. 

"What's your name?" she asks. "And don't try that French stuff again I know you can speak English. The police officer heard you yelling it when he brought you here."

I looked down at the dish and up at her. My stomach growled audibly in the room and her smile got wider. "I can tell you're hungry sweetheart. How long has it been since you've last had a home-cooked meal? You're all skin and bones. Tell me your name and then I promise I'll give you as much food as you want and whatever else you need. We just want to help you and find your family if you have one or help you find a family if you don't."

I stared at the covered dish distressed. If I answered their question. Then They would find me. But if I didn't answer would these people starve me? Damn it why did I have to get caught? I was doing just find on the streets. Why couldn't they just leave me to rot in an alley? Claiming they're saving me but then taunting me with food?

"Je ne comprends pas?" je ne parle pas anglais. I replied.

The white-collared man leaned into the nun who turned to face him as he whispered, "Just give her the food. We'll put her picture in the paper and on the news. If her family is out there I'm sure they'll see it."

My eyebrows raised and my heart began to race. "NO! s'il vous plaît. I'll talk."

The two of them turned and looked at me. My accent was strong but it was enough to give them a sense of accomplishment. I had to lie if I wanted to survive. I needed to tell them enough to keep them from posting my picture. But not enough for them to want to dig deeper. "My, My name is Dylan."

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"Sis, You can't do this. You have to wake up."

"Chef, wake up. You're scaring the shit out of Liam. Don't do this to him."

"Commn Please Dilly wake up. Please baby I love you."

"Master please wake up, you're scaring me."

"Dylan, honey. You need to wake up we need you out here."

I hear the steady peep of the heart monitor, I feel the blood pressure cuff randomly inflating and deflating around my arm, I smell the sterile scent of the hospital room mixed with whatever meal the nurse brought in for me to not eat, I hear the i.v. dripping and feel the pinch of the needle in my arm.