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Emma POV
I've been sitting alone in "my" room after I finished showering. Alex kept his word and gave me everything I needed to take a proper shower. But I have not called him over yet to wrap my wounds up as he asked me to. I don't need it anyways. I thought as I looked at the contradicting raw flesh.
He gave me fresh clothes, boxers, and a black shirt. I hid the small knife in an angled hole covered by the folds of the fabric of the mattress. I figured I'll need a more permanent hiding place for it anyway. Alex told me to put my old tattered clothes in a bag he provided. I did as instructed, feeling too emotionally and physically exhausted to put up with another battle of the wills with anyone today.
I heard a knock on the door and decided I won't acknowledge it. I don't want to see anyone... Leave me alone. My eyelids felt heavy. I just curled up into an even tighter ball on the bed. This time, pulling the blanket up over my head.
I groaned when the door opened, not wanting to accept reality. I just wanted to disappear. Seize to exist. Become nothing.
"Emma," Alex paused abruptly. "Um, I um. I came to wrap your wounds up." He looked a bit on edge as he slowly stepped closer to me. My only response was to push myself against the wall, scooting away from him. Being alone and vulnerable with him in this small space didn't sit well with me. I knew better than to trust a few kind words.
"Hey, no need to worry," He paused when he saw me inching away from him. "I'm not here to hurt you; just bandage your arms up."
I didn't want anyone looking, let alone touching, my sliced-up and scarred arms. I felt too exposed to have any prying eyes on my biggest insecurities. These cuts and scars are evidence of my deepest pain, my self-hate, and my struggle to cope when I felt like dying.
"I can do it myself," I muttered when I was tucked in a corner, giving up my useless attempts to get away from him.
"No can do," He shook his head sternly. "I would need to use scissors to cut the gauze, I can't leave you to do that." He stared at the cuts on my thighs.
I clenched my jaw feeling my face heat up in shame and humiliation. "Then forget it, I don't need this." I nodded my head towards the first aid kit he was holding.
"C'mon, don't make this harder than it has to be." Alex took another step towards me, standing about 5 feet away from me. "I mean, look at what you did, I can't trust you with any sharp objects even if you were not held against your will."
I grimaced up at him, my dignity lying in pieces on the floor. I wanted to die at that moment. "Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me." I hissed, trying to keep my tears from falling.
Alex stared at me for a moment before sighing. He tossed the first aid kit on the mattress and strode to the opposite side of the room.
"Go ahead, but I will keep a close watch on you." He said in a resigned tone, before sliding down on the ground while maintaining eye contact with me.
I was genuinely surprised. I didn't expect him to show that level of consideration. My shock must have shown on my face because Alex's gaze softened.
"Go on," He encouraged softly. That's all I needed to quickly scoot over and snatch the first aid kit to my side of the room.
I had enough experience with cuts to know how to go about bandaging myself. I winced as I disinfected the exposed wounds, momentarily looking up to see Alex keeping to his words. He kept a close eye on every move I made. My wrists' tendons hurt too much to keep my hands from shaking as I strained to do my handiwork.
"Why do you do it?" Alex asked suddenly, snapping my attention back up to him. I couldn't read his face, but I noticed his knuckles were white, making a shiver wave through me.
"Do what?" I mumbled, playing dumb as I broke away my gaze.
"You know what," he said coldly. "Cutting yourself."
I didn't answer, and my throat was closing up as I tried to control my emotions. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel nothing. I feel noth-.
"Why would anyone cut themselves, it makes no sense." He continued when I didn't answer. It was a good question. I don't really know how to explain it without sounding crazy. Maybe I am already crazy...
"I don't know," was the best response I was able to choke out. I felt my eyes watering, feeling mortified. I tried so desperately to hide my cutting.
When Alex didn't answer, I looked up at him. He was watching me. His penetrating gaze seemed to be digging into my soul in search of answers.
"Right," he didn't sound convinced. "What happened to you anyway?"
"Why so many questions?" I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, hating that he knew I was crying.
"Because, I don't understand," He paused, trying to find a way to string his next words. "Earlier, Evan made a good point. You said you work, but you look..." He trailed off. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into the palms of my hands.
"You people are so cruel, didn't you torment me enough for one night?" My voice broke, and I had to use all my strength to keep from ripping at my bandages and cutting myself with the scissors before me.
"You have to understand that it doesn't make sense," Alex's voice softened. "You said you were on your way from work but were you really?" His eyes looked me up and down.
"I was telling the truth," I wiped my tears again. I hated how I was sitting here with my boney, bruised, and abused body on display. "Stop looking at me."
Alex said nothing. He just stood up and pointed at the first aid kit. I kicked it to the other side of the room, towards the door. Message clear, Alex, pressed his lips, giving me an apologetic look before turning around. He picked up the kit, quickly unzipped it, checked that I had placed everything back, then walked out. I heard the sound of the lock clicking back into place. Finally, alone, I no longer needed to hold down the tears.
I don't know how long I cried, but by the time I ran out of tears, I was too exhausted to keep from keeping my eyes open. I gladly welcomed sleep.
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Art by: Ko Byung Jun
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Kidnapped
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