Man in the Wall (Who is he?)

Chapter 27 - She gets to choose

After a strenuous decade, we finally come across her room; a deception of kindness, peace, and serenity. These girls have absolutely no idea the cruelty that awaits them once they leave here. It's unnatural and degrading for any human being to be seen as an object and not as a person.

What can I do about it? Nothing. Not a single thing and I wouldn't dare to either. They'll kill me and I'm not prepared to die. It pains me knowing their fate, urging me to protect each and every single one of them, but are they really worth dying for?

As we enter her room, I notice articles of clean clothing on her bed and a tray of food on the dresser. The aroma of a hot cooked meal engulfed in perfect seasoning captivates the entire room and if I didn't have such excellent self-control, I would teleport over there right now and consume it whole.

I refuse to allow temptation to get the better of me and walk straight to the bathroom with Vivian. I gently set her down on the toilet lid and turn around to turn on the taps in the shower. My hand remains stretched out under the showerhead awaiting a lukewarm temperature. Once the water has reached a reasonably comforting temperature, I retract my hand and turn back around to help Vivian undress.

Only to turn straight into an upright, bare body with tiring eyes burrowing into mine. She has already stripped her clothing off. This catches me by surprise and my breath hitches in my throat. For some or other reason my immediate reaction is to move out of her way.

As I do so she steps forward, her legs wobbling in the process, and climbs into the shower. She simply stands there, fixed in her spot, allowing the water to flow down her bruised and tarnished skin. A mixture of dirt, sweat, blood, and other filthy substances hit the ground and slip away into the drain as the water removes what it's able to.

I stand to question whether or not she'll begin to wash, whether or not I should leave and give her some privacy or if I should stay and help her. Before I'm able to answer myself, I find my feet shuffling forward closer to the shower and my hands reaching for the sponge and body wash.

Vivian continues to stand under the showerhead as I apply the luscious essence of pomegranate and red apple body wash to the soft pink sponge. I place the bottle back to its original position and rotate ever so slightly to begin washing her.

As the sponge nears her skin, her hand instantaneously latches onto my wrist. A movement so sudden it sends panic waves to my brain and my body grows with a sudden jolt of fear. I shoot my head up to look at her, but she's not even looking my way. Her stoic face continues facing the tiled wall.

With her free hand, she brings it over to remove the sponge from my hand. As soon as it's in her possession, she lets go of my wrist. Just as I open my mouth to protest, she begins to run the sponge from her neck, across her shoulder, and down her arm as the water continues cascading upon her. Her hands slightly shaking.

I decide to let her be and step back from the shower. I close the glass shower door and exit the bathroom. Not wanting to leave her completely just yet, I sit on the bed and wait till she's done.

After a solid twenty-five minutes, I hear the shower taps being turned off. After the first five minutes, boredom took over and I decided to lay back on her bed and relax while waiting. I hurry to my feet as I get up from her bed before she exits the bathroom and finds me cozy in a place I most certainly do not belong.

Vivian comes out looking cleaner than ever before, while wrapped in a cream towel. Her wet brunette hair falls freely down her shoulders and back, dripping water everywhere. It's no longer in that thick, filthy, birds nest condition as it glistens with a radiating freshness.

I grab the clothing from the bed and hand it to her, which she actually takes without any form of hesitation. Not knowing if she's thinking straight at all, even though I'm positive her brain is completely fried, she drops the towel to the ground and begins getting dressed. Her movements stiff, cold, silent.