you some more drugs. You’ll feel better. It’s almost over now. I stopped the bleeding.’
What bleeding? What happened to me?
I felt the sting of the needle, only feeling the hot, burning agony for a few more seconds before my eyes flickered again, and I returned to the deep, dark sleep.
***
I woke up crying from the pain; the tears were already on my cheeks. Whatever Maxim had drugged me with made me groggy, as though I had been poisoned, and every part of me felt heavy and sore. My mouth and throat were so dry that I could barely swallow, and my skin smarted all over. But none of that compared to the agony pulsing from my left elbow. I tried to move it. My left wrist wasn’t handcuffed – only my right wrist, which meant I couldn’t touch where it hurt to find out what had happened to my left arm. It was dark, but I had become used to that. I tried to move the fingers on my left hand, but couldn’t. Everything from the elbow down was completely numb.
Am I paralysed? What has he done to me?
Warm tears streamed down my cheeks and agonised whimpers crawled up my throat. I had never felt pain like it. Even the throbbing itself hurt, as though my pulse was beating the wound; the more I panicked, the faster my pulse became, hurting me more and more. I groaned, but the noise I made seemed warped, perhaps because of the drug he had given me; I sounded terrifying, as though the moans weren’t from me, but from some sort of beast.
The sound of a key entering a lock echoed from the top of the staircase, and light shone down the steps. He must have heard me. The lights flickered on as he walked down the stairs. I immediately looked down to my arm to see what he had done to me, but all I saw was a stump where the crease of my elbow should have been: no hand, no wrist, no forearm. The scream was so loud that it rang in my ears and I could taste blood at the back of my throat.
Maxim rushed to me with another syringe, whispering something, trying to comfort me, but all I could do was scream. He snatched my leg and plunged the needle into the soft side of my thigh, and struggled as I thrashed against him, screaming.
As the light began to fade, I heard him whisper: ‘I had to do it. Now they think you’re dead. Now you’re all mine.’
NINETEEN
I walked around the room in the basement for what seemed like the millionth time. It was the same circuit, round and round, all while Maxim watched me from where he sat on the bottom step of the staircase.
Day and night no longer existed for me: I stayed alone in the dark until he visited, turned on the lights that were too bright, and removed the handcuff from my right wrist so I could stretch my legs for an hour. I spoke only when spoken to. I only looked at him when I had to; I didn’t ask questions anymore, because he never gave me the answers. I followed his orders, his rules, and hoped that one day I would wake up from the horrendous nightmare.
‘You’re getting bigger,’ he said from the bottom step, eyeing my stomach as he bit into an apple.
I didn’t respond, and continued to walk round and round the room at a slow pace. I listened to him chew the mouthful of apple.
‘Have you felt anything? Any pain? Any movement?’
I shook my head as I walked. It was a lie. I felt the baby move all the time. This was how I defied him: I kept things from him. I refused to give him everything. He had taken my arm, my innocence, my world, but he couldn’t take everything. He couldn’t hear my thoughts.
For the first few years it seemed to be about control and possession, but as I began to blossom into a woman it suddenly became more, and he would visit me with different desires.
‘You only have about two months left,’ he said, before biting into the apple again.
I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. He looked back at me, confused.
For the first time since he took me, he had revealed information about how long I had been in the basement. For so long, I hadn’t
What bleeding? What happened to me?
I felt the sting of the needle, only feeling the hot, burning agony for a few more seconds before my eyes flickered again, and I returned to the deep, dark sleep.
***
I woke up crying from the pain; the tears were already on my cheeks. Whatever Maxim had drugged me with made me groggy, as though I had been poisoned, and every part of me felt heavy and sore. My mouth and throat were so dry that I could barely swallow, and my skin smarted all over. But none of that compared to the agony pulsing from my left elbow. I tried to move it. My left wrist wasn’t handcuffed – only my right wrist, which meant I couldn’t touch where it hurt to find out what had happened to my left arm. It was dark, but I had become used to that. I tried to move the fingers on my left hand, but couldn’t. Everything from the elbow down was completely numb.
Am I paralysed? What has he done to me?
Warm tears streamed down my cheeks and agonised whimpers crawled up my throat. I had never felt pain like it. Even the throbbing itself hurt, as though my pulse was beating the wound; the more I panicked, the faster my pulse became, hurting me more and more. I groaned, but the noise I made seemed warped, perhaps because of the drug he had given me; I sounded terrifying, as though the moans weren’t from me, but from some sort of beast.
The sound of a key entering a lock echoed from the top of the staircase, and light shone down the steps. He must have heard me. The lights flickered on as he walked down the stairs. I immediately looked down to my arm to see what he had done to me, but all I saw was a stump where the crease of my elbow should have been: no hand, no wrist, no forearm. The scream was so loud that it rang in my ears and I could taste blood at the back of my throat.
Maxim rushed to me with another syringe, whispering something, trying to comfort me, but all I could do was scream. He snatched my leg and plunged the needle into the soft side of my thigh, and struggled as I thrashed against him, screaming.
As the light began to fade, I heard him whisper: ‘I had to do it. Now they think you’re dead. Now you’re all mine.’
NINETEEN
I walked around the room in the basement for what seemed like the millionth time. It was the same circuit, round and round, all while Maxim watched me from where he sat on the bottom step of the staircase.
Day and night no longer existed for me: I stayed alone in the dark until he visited, turned on the lights that were too bright, and removed the handcuff from my right wrist so I could stretch my legs for an hour. I spoke only when spoken to. I only looked at him when I had to; I didn’t ask questions anymore, because he never gave me the answers. I followed his orders, his rules, and hoped that one day I would wake up from the horrendous nightmare.
‘You’re getting bigger,’ he said from the bottom step, eyeing my stomach as he bit into an apple.
I didn’t respond, and continued to walk round and round the room at a slow pace. I listened to him chew the mouthful of apple.
‘Have you felt anything? Any pain? Any movement?’
I shook my head as I walked. It was a lie. I felt the baby move all the time. This was how I defied him: I kept things from him. I refused to give him everything. He had taken my arm, my innocence, my world, but he couldn’t take everything. He couldn’t hear my thoughts.
For the first few years it seemed to be about control and possession, but as I began to blossom into a woman it suddenly became more, and he would visit me with different desires.
‘You only have about two months left,’ he said, before biting into the apple again.
I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. He looked back at me, confused.
For the first time since he took me, he had revealed information about how long I had been in the basement. For so long, I hadn’t
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