mine (yours) >> peraltiago

three ; santiago

I've been staring at the concrete so long I seem to find some twisted form of comfort in it. The way it sags, the loose, grey bricks next to my head, the way it's slowly crumbling around me. Reminds me of my life currently, actually.

I don't know how long I've been here, or where I am, or even who is doing this to me. But what I do know, is that I have to keep holding on to my sanity - for Jake.

Everyone has a safe place, a feeling of home, something to get through the pain. Even after three months, whenever I think about our lips pressed together, I feel more hopeful. Like, the memory of him is somehow reassuring me that he'll protect me, fight for me, find me, be everything I need.

Our first kiss was a surprise. I didn't know what the hell was going on, and I didn't know how to handle it. At first I tried to stop it, because of the awkwardness and the way I knew it would screw up everything - our friendship, the team dynamic. Then I decided to embrace it. It was for work anyway, and I'd take his affection wherever I could get it - especially because we would never work out.

Our second kiss. Something I never thought would happen. I kissed him - and surprised everyone including myself on how spontaneous it was. It was up against a tree, and very passionate. Again, it made everything awkward - everything. Sometimes I feel guilty that the captain left - because I thought someone had seen us and reported it making him lose his job. I know it's not true, I know it's because Chief Wunch is a jerkwad - but I've been sitting in this room for three months and I haven't spoken to anyone and I'm overthinking everything.

The third kiss. As Jake and Amy, not Johnny and Dora. When the elevator doors shut, I fled to the evidence locker and paced around, upset and worried and every word I couldn't think of at that moment.
"Hey. I thought I'd find you on here." He had said. I remember we had talked about how we were handling it and everything.
"There's been a lot of change around here." I said, and suddenly something clicked in both of our heads. Earlier, we had agreed to be just colleagues, because we didn't want anything to change. Next thing I knew, his hands were caressing my back, mine were around his neck and our lips were together.

We never had a chance. The new captain came in, I ran off, and got kidnapped. Nice work, Amy.

I'm not sure what would've happened next. Maybe we'd talk about it, agree to be colleagues or try our luck as a couple. Maybe we'd ignore it, make everything and everyone awkward and uncomfortable until we talked and agreed to forget. But at least we would have had a chance.

Honestly? I'm not sure why I'm here. Not torture for information, not to talk, not as some sort of revenge, not for anything. I'm just sitting in this locked room doing nothing until my food and water is slid through the flap in the door.

Today's food lies half eaten at my feet, and I start picking at it again. Well, if I'm hungry I'm hungry, and I don't want to eat it all in one go.

Suddenly, when I'm stupidly lost in my thoughts, the door swings open and three masked men come in. They beat me, torture me, violate me until I beg for mercy. They leave, and the room is spinning - and not  just from the injuries. Black spots cover my eyes, and I can't see, hear or feel anything as I collapse onto the holey, thin, dirty mattress on the concrete floor.

Then it hits me. I've been drugged. Son of a...