The Choice Of Us

Cain

TIANA

Why didn't he tell me?

Why didn't he tell me?

I often stare at the dirty window lost in my thoughts of what was real or fake. Doing my best to prohibit the presence of the malignant man lurking in the shadows when he thought I didn't notice from affecting me.

Whilst replaying the times I was around Luis, all his nervous tendencies all made sense now and I could only wonder if my mother knew all along. And just the mere thought of her makes a rare smile break out. And only push me to move my hands wrapped around my back to shift and reveal the army knife my captor had left on the nightstand.

She wouldn't want me to give up. With all that she went through she remained persistent in her pursuit to being positive but just thinking about her strength was the encouragement I needed to use the knife to break through the thick rope.

I had to try.

I just had to fucking try.

And moving my arm, I held the knife as if it was my lifeline knowing this moment would determine whether I'd end this torture by escaping or fail and deal with being groped against my will.

Maybe I should be grateful he hadn't done anything else to me.

And it pained me knowing this is the kind of world we still lived in where some people had to be grateful of facing a lesser evil when they deserved no evil at all.

Each minute seemed to pass by as I moved the knife's teeth praying to my Maker that the rope would fall away from my skin.

"My father," I nearly choked on my spit looking up to find him entering the room and I felt like a deer caught in headlights believing I had been caught. But I began to breathe easily when he continued airing out whatever rubbish he had to say.

"He wasn't much of a nice man," he said and I followed his movements as he drew nearer to me only to remove the duct tape after which he went to lean against the doorframe staring at the window.

Much to my dismay I drew in a steady breath to calm my raging heart and moved my hand a lot more slowly determined to finish my task of freeing myself with him not looking at me.

At least I hope he wasn't looking at me. However, it was hard to stop cutting the rope with the taste of freedom on my tongue and I kept my gaze on him feigning interest in his choice to talk to me besides gawking at me.

"As a child you're prone to be easily swayed by the world around you. You're a lot more impressionistic and it was only when I reached a certain age that I began to comprehend the reason behind his actions."

At this point his eyes landed towards me but my gaze had shifted towards his scar that seemed to resemble the damage within him. I began hoping that once I freed myself I could put the blade into his skin and give him another mark on him to remember me by. He caught me staring intensely at it." You can go ahead and ask me? Given the amount of time we've spent together you should feel comfortable to ask me anything?" he snickered despite the frown I gave him.

"Don't take offense if I don't immediately rush to tell you shit."

"My name is Cain, by the way."

"Don't care."

"The attitude is a bit unnecessary. But I get it, you're restless- but don't worry, he raised his hands in mock surrender," it's all about to end."

Something about the way he said it, unnerved me and made me feel unsettled to the degree I chose to be quiet as opposed to responding and pressed my lips together.