Page 2 of Veiled Vows

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

Once I look him in the eye, it’s impossible to look away. “Telling.”

A third guy with a scar over his eyes melts from the shadows and leans close to Smelly’s ear, speaking in a low voice. Whatever he says makes Smelly’s face light up and he finally steps away from me.

All three of them leave not long after. A deathly silence lingers in their wake. The girl next to me remains as unconscious as the two other girls on the floor, also in uniforms from different schools. I haven’t seen any signs of life from them in the entire time I’ve been here, time of which I’ve lost complete track. Everything here is dark and cold with only frozen pipes for company.

I was supposed to be going home for Christmas. My parents and I were due to fly to Italy to spend time with very distant extended family and wait out the bitter December cold in a much more relaxing country. Instead I’m here, snatched from school like a pebble in a sea of gravel.

In the dark and the silence, more tears come. I cry myself to exhaustion, trembling from fear and the icy conditions. It’s impossible to tell. My mother talked me through what to do if I was ever taken, but I can’t remember a single thing now. All I want to do is make sure I survive this.

My mother was clear about the specific reasons I would be targeted.

My father. What he does and the people he works with all make life very difficult for different groups of people. All it takes is for one to get tired of being treated like shit and try to work out a better deal using something my father can’t bargain with.

My life.

I hate it. I hate him. I want to be at home curled up on the couch drowning in TV shows like any other regular teenager.

I hate this.

I hatehim.

What feels like hours pass before the men return. They untie the unconscious girl and carry her out of the room, slamming the door closed behind them and leaving me to a terrifying solitude. It wasn’t as bad when I knew someone was in here with me, but now I’m alone? There’s no one to call out for me. Nothing between me and them.

Exhaustion eventually pulls me into an uneasy sleep filled with pain and heat that I can’t escape no matter how fast I run. The dreams last until an overwhelming surge of agony throbs through my shoulders. My eyes open as a scream of pain tears from my raw throat, but as soon as I make a noise, I’m swiftly slapped across the face, which only disorients me further. My shoulders scream like my joints are being ground against broken glass, and countless tears pour down my cheeks as I’m dragged by my hair and the back of my shirt along a dark corridor.

My shoulder pain must be from being hung by my wrists for so long only to abruptly be let down.

Darkness gives way to a room so blindingly bright that my eyes slam shut to protect themselves, yet the light seems to pierce through my eyelids. Covering my eyes with my hands does little to change that, but it helps.

“Stand up,” barks Smelly’s voice once I’m thrown onto a cold, hard stone floor. “I said get the fuck up!”

His boot collides with my gut with such force that I fly upward an inch or two. The impact forces my eyes open as all air is forced from my lungs, and a tight cramp flexes across my abdomen. I can’t speak. I can’t breathe, but somehow I manage to climb to my feet.

This room is much larger than where I was being held. A large white sheet acts as a backdrop behind me. Several cameras and glaring bright lights form a wall in front of me, as well as several large white diffusion umbrellas. Skinny drapes his long limbs over one of the cameras and picks at his teeth, narrowing his almond-shaped eyes when our gazes meet.

I look away quickly, hastily wiping away my tears so I can get a clearer look at everything around me. Scarface stands near the door with his hands cradling a submachine gun while he rocks back and forth on his heels.

Smelly approached with a cold smirk. “So, Jasmine. I thought it’s about time you slipped into something more comfortable.”

My stomach drops like a rock, and I stare up at him with wide eyes. “W-What?”

Cruel snickers rise up around the room.

“You’re not in school anymore so why are you still in uniform?” His bright eyes dip down to my body hidden underneath a very stained white shirt, then down to the pleated skirt clinging to my legs. “The only thing better than a schoolgirl fantasy is seeing what’s under the schoolgirl uniform.”

Violent disgust rolls through my body, like a hand reaching up to my throat from inside my body. I gag and slam a hand over my mouth, forcing down the rising bile along with the terrifying, cold realization of what’s about to happen.

“So come on…” Smelly walks forward, waving his handgun around like it’s some kind of prompt, then he presses the barrel to my collarbone and slides it down until the weapon strains against the buttons keeping my shirt closed. “Take it off. Or I’ll take it off for you. And trust me…” He leans in close so I get a faceful of his stinking, ashy breath. “I won’t be gentle.”

I don’t want to give in. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of obeying, but the alternative sounds even more horrific.

A lump forms in my throat and, with violently trembling fingers, I reach for the buttons on my shirt.

Oh God. I’m going to die here. I’m actually going to die here.

I can scarcely feel the buttons with how cold my fingers are. Smelly’s eyes narrow with glee as the first button of my shirt pops free. He steps back, crossing his thick arms across his chest and dragging his fat, slimy tongue across his lower lip. Every single inch of me recoils in disgust, but I move on to the second button.

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