Huis-Clos » h.s

o n e

I pull on my wrists. They are tied up with a rough rope that bites my flesh each time I try to make a move. I am knelt on my knees, head down, but there is nothing to see anyway. The room is plunged into total darkness. I don't know where I am or even for how long I have been here. Two days, two weeks, two months? I don't know. I can't even tell by the sunlight since I haven't been out for a while now. I have lost all notion of time.

It's time. He opens the door of my cell and it's the only moment I am able to see light seeping through the tiny opening. But I don't have the right to look at him. Last time I did, he slapped me in the face. But I remember I saw a bit of his face. I know he has dark long hair and stern features. I can remember the only second his green forest eyes had stared sternly into mine. But what I can remember the most is the fact that I have found him beautiful. Cruelly beautiful.

So now I just keep my head down each time he comes for the meals or to lead me to the bathroom. That's the only moment of the day I can get out of here, and even if it's only to cross the corridor, I wait for those few minutes all day long.

"Let's go." he says with this deep and husky voice of his.

I do as I am told and get up to join him. I look at my bared feet, only at my bared feet, as he closes the door behind me. Because of the lack of light, I am sure he locked me in the basement of a house. There is an old bathroom too but it seems so damaged, I am sure he doesn't use it. Each time we walk up the corridor to the bathroom, we pass in front of a narrow staircase that leads to a grey door that seems to be made of heavy metal. I can't help but stopping from walking each time and starring at it for a while. This door is the symbol of my liberty. Someday, I'll be able to pass through it.

"Move." he says sternly behind me and I do so, resigned.

"Someday, they're going to find me and you'll be sent to jail!" I backfire at him angrily as I can already feel tears filling up my eyes. I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

"I've already told you, you are not allowed to talk to me." he barks in reply. "Now let's go in."

He pushes me inside the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He never takes the risk to let me run away. I stand in front of the small chair as he wants me to. My head is still down and my dark hair is falling in front of my face.

The first time he brought me here, I was totally panicked. In the beginning, I tried to escape, but he has always caught me up and hit me to 'make me understand I didn't have the right to escape'. Now I understood it is useless to try, he is much stronger and faster than I am.

He starts undressing me because I can't do it myself since he wouldn't untied my wrists. He grabs the bottom of my plain white dress and pulls it over my head. There are buttons on the sleeves so he doesn't have to free my hands. As he doesn't provide me with underwear, I find myself naked in front of him. The first times he undressed me, I struggled because I didn't want him to see me naked. But I was quick to understand that he wouldn't touch me improperly. I have to admit he has always been very respectful with my body.

"You are beautiful, Grace. So innocent." he whispers before turning around to take the washcloth on the sink. He puts some soap on it, dampens it and then wrings it. I can feel his intense look on me and that disgusts me. This man is sick.

I bite into my bottom lip when he starts cleaning my stomach. He rubs my skin with the cloth and clean my breasts, my sides, my shoulders, my arms. He then asks me to turn around to braid my hair and do my back. He also does my legs and my butt. I hate it when I feel his long fingers down there, it sends me some unpleasant chills, but I don't say anything because what's the point anyway? He doesn't care about what I want or what I feel.

"Turn around," he whispers. "I want to see your face." I obey but I keep staring at my feet. He then finishes by rinsing the washcloth and washes my face with clean water.

He then dresses me with another plain white dress, exactly the same as the one I was wearing before, and as the one I was wearing yesterday, and as the one I was wearing two weeks ago. He may owns a lot of those or he may wash them. He just got me washed but I feel dirtier than ever. I just need to wash myself from his touch and make his fingerprints disappeared from my skin.

"Okay, let's go back to your room." I'm not sure my room would be the most accurate term to describe the place he has locked me in for days now.

He leads me back to my 'room' and I go sit on the old mattress there is on the ground in the corner of the cell. He then closes the door behind me in a loud grinding noise and the slam of the door echoes in the silence long after he has disappeared. Here I find myself again in that dark and cold place, bared feet on the mattress, and only starting waiting for the meal he will bring me in some hours.

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