Sealed and Silenced (Watty Awards 2012)

Sealed and Silenced: Chapter 10 Part 1

| A/N: Hello wonderful people who read my book! First off, I just want to say, thank you so much for readingg this far into SAS! And I also want to add that by writing and completeing this chapter, I have broken a personal record for how many chapters I have made! Yay!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy Part 1, Part 2 will be up soon! Thanks guys! Purple poka dotted hippo's!!!! |

I lay sobbing on the bed.

I am so scared.

Viktor has finished with me and is dressing.

Blood stains the bed along with dry tears and semen.

“I’ll get Mia to bring you some clothes. When our shifts are done, we can do this again, sweetheart.” Viktor wiggles his bushy black eyebrows in my direction as he does up his belt buckle. “Won’t that be fun?”

I don’t say anything. I don’t even nod. I just let Viktor leave the room.

He had stripped me of all of my clothes during the rape. I don’t think I have ever felt so alone, so cloud, so left out and venerable. Not even when I was first taken by the fishermen.

I feel baffled. And weak. And abused. I curl in on myself, as my tears start to flow heavier.

Why? Why, I ask. Why did I make such a bad choice so many years back when I thought those fisherman actually were going to sell me fish. Why did I escape? Why did I have to be captured again? Why did I have to end up here? Why did I have to meet Carter?

The last question sticks in my head.

I feel like a betrayed him. I feel like he wouldn’t forgive me for this. I know it’s not my fault... but that doesn’t stop me from imagining the worst situations and conversations I can think of.

Carter yelling at me, Carter hitting me, Carter laughing at me while I am abused by others.

But then the frightening fantasies turn to plain out fantasies. I can imagine Carter and I going out for dinner in an exotic restaurant. I can imagine Carter kissing me at the end of the night. I can imagine me letting Carter into my house for the night. I imagine us spreading the night together. Our lives together.

I cry harder, because I know none of this will come true. It seems so impossible.

A knock interrupts my thoughts. I don’t look up. I keep my thin brown hair over my face.

“Excuse me?” It is a woman’s voice at the door. She has a slight accent that I can’t quite place.

I raise my head slightly to look at the girl in the doorway. She has dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks so much like Carter. Her clothes are simple yet clean. A loose white shirt that hangs over one shoulder and a pair of rather dulled jeans. Black shoes peep from underneath her pants.

I can’t help, but stare.

“I’m Mia. I was told to bring you some fresh clothes.” She is not what I was expecting. She looks slightly normal, in a less than normal place. In Mia’s hands is a small pile of multi colored fabrics and a small container of water. It doesn’t take me long to realize they are actually different pieces of clothing.

Mia walks over to the end of bed and sets down her pile.

“Billy wants you in an hour. Don’t be late.” Her voice has the authority of someone who has been here to long and yet, a gentleness to it. Something strangely comforting about her voice.

I don’t look up as she leaves the room.

It takes me a very long time before I uncurl myself from my personal ball. I reach out a shaky hand and touch the fresh clothes. They are soft. On top lay a pair of smooth black boots, a hairbrush, and a wash cloth.

 Underneath is a folded strapless black dress that sparkles in certain places. And under that is a two piece outfit. Black with red trim. It resembles a bikini one would wear to the beach.

It seems rather odd, that I have to choose what I wear, but I think it through none the less.

I doubt the dress would stay up with my skinny body beneath. I choose the bikini like one.

Picking up the wash cloth, I soak it in the water and try my best to scrub off the dirt that has accumulated since I arrived in this horrible place. Layer by layer, I make the wash cloth become a more ugly brown.

Once my body is relatively clean, I slip on the outfit Billy has given me. The skirt barely stays on my hips and the shirt is uncomfortably loose. I zip up the black, high heeled boots and stand up. I feel like a dressed up whore. And that’s pretty much what I am.

I pick up the hairbrush and start on the horrific knots that intertwine in my hair. It takes me the rest of the hour to make my hair even slightly presentable.

When I feel like an hour’s up, I walk out of the now dark room. The sun has gone all the way down, it no longer illuminates the hallway. To replace the natural lit are dim lamps, distant cousins to the ones that line downstairs.

Slowly and surely, I make my way down the stairs. I meet no one. My whole body aches as I move. The boots are unsteady and unbalanced. They hurt me feet. My outfit scratches my skin worse than insect bites. I itch and ache and dread what’s awaiting.

Finally, I make it down the stairs without tripping to many times. Billy waits at the bottom. His beard twitches as he sees me coming towards him. He slicks some loose ginger hair back onto his head. Billy holds an old-time pocket watch. Simple, but gold.

“Good,” He drags out the ‘o’ sound. “Right on time. Get your tray from the bar.” He nods towards the plank of wood across the room.

It just so happens, that Viktor works the bar. If it’s possible, more dread piles inside my small body.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says as I approach the bar. A shiver runs down my spine.

I nod in response, barely keeping the grimace off my face. Viktor hands me a brown, rusty tray. Obviously I’m expected to serve with this and it’s gross. It smells rotten with alcohol, not to mention the touch is ruff and scratchy.

“Show time people!” For a moment Billy sounds like a gay fashion designer as he opens the door.

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