His Prize

Chapter 7: The Deal

Something is touching my hand. Something is touching my hand!

I jolt awake and quickly sit up. Reality comes crashing back. The room is brightly lit, and less than a foot away from me stands Alex.

He towers over me, leaning over the bed. I scramble back, as far away from him as I can get with my bound hands.

"Damn, calm down. It's only me," he says.

"And that's supposed to calm me down?" I snap back after regaining my composure.

He puts the key in the handcuffs holding me in place. The curtains are open, and the room is filled with morning sunlight.

I peek over the side of the bed, and to my surprise, the broken glass has already been cleaned up.

With that thought, last night's events jump to the front of my mind. He needs to know that what he did wasn't okay.

I take a deep breath to build up my confidence. "You can't do this." I gesture to my partly cuffed wrists.

"Yes, I can."

"Well you shouldn't. It's not right. I'm not some toy you can just throw around as you please. I'm a person."

"We have been through-" he stops before finishing his sentence. An idea pops into his head. "Tell you what, if you agree to no longer break my things, I'll allow you to be uncuffed in this room."

The idea sparks life into me, and I unconsciously glance at the windows. If I'm alone in this room, I can smash them and escape.

"Don't worry about the windows. They don't open more than two inches and are reinforced just like the bathroom's." He must have noticed my glance. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

After slipping the handcuffs back in his pocket, he takes a step back. His eyes are fixed on me. His stare makes me uncomfortable.

I put my legs over the bed so that my feet touch the ground. This way I can at least dodge if he tries coming near me again.

His expression changes, and he approaches. I try to dodge away, but he's quick to grab my arm.

He pulls me out of the room, through the living room and into the bathroom.

"I can put up with a human, but not a smelly one. You will wash yourself every morning while living here. I know bathing this often might be strange for you, considering where you're from. But I'm sure you'll adjust." With that rude remark he closes the door, too quickly for me to come up with a response.

I take my time adjusting the shower's water temperature. I grab the hem of my shirt but stop dead in my tracks. Last night's shower was awful. Maybe I should just change clothes and skip it?

No, I can't do that. I can't live without showering.

An idea pops into my head. If I keep my eyes closed, then I won't see my body, and won't have to relive that experience. The experience I want so desperately to forget.

I shut my eyes tight, remove my clothes and hop in the shower. I furiously scrub myself down. In less than a minute I'm out, barely drying before putting on the new set of clothes.

After I'm fully covered, I stare at the mirror, trying to calm down.

Eventually my heartbeat returns to normal, and I notice something I haven't seen up close in a long time. My face. Living out there, clean mirrors were rare, and my face been clean was even rarer. It's no longer rounded like when I was a kid. My cheekbones are more pronounced. I look older, and more mature. I look like a woman. I'm no longer that helpless little girl I was back when the world fell apart.