Page 48 of Enslaved

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IT’S HARD TO MEASURE TIME IN DARKNESS. I counted the slow drips from a leaky pipe above my head as it fell somewhere to the left of me. The roll of waves under the boat also came in a steady pattern.

Strangely those two constants helped me hold on.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Roll. Roll. Roll.

Drip and Roll.

I counted two hundred sequences of each in tens, three times a day. Then the door would open, and he’d filled my water bowl on the floor instructing me to crawl to it like a dog and drink on all fours.

I refused.

I waited until he left, then counted my steps in the darkness to drink. He hasn’t touched me since the day we boarded. I’ve tried in vain to count days. But they too got lost in the dark. He comes three times, but I can’t tell when it’s night or when it’s morning.

He left a bucket for me to relieve myself in. I’ve peed but refuse to do anything else, which is easy considering he leaves me pieces of meat on a plate next to the water bowl.

A dog.

He kept me chained, treating me like a wild dog. With every day that goes by, the woman I was slips further and further from my grasp.

The door opened, causing my eyes to snap up. Light streamed in through the open door, blinding me. My pupils even forgetting how to see in the brightness.

He strolled in, screwed the light bulb back in place, and I cried out in anguish as the brightness burned my retinas. I squeezed my eyes shut, wincing in pain, bringing my shackled hands up to cover my face.

“You smell.”

“I wonder why?”

He came forward, unclasping my wrists one by one. But I hadn’t eaten in days, my belly rumbled, my legs and arms were weak. I didn’t even protest as he swept me up in his arms and carried me through a hall and up a set of stairs.

He opened a door to what must be the master stateroom and placed me in a claw-footed tub.

I still couldn’t open my eyes due to the intense light.

“Here.” He tied a silk blindfold around my head.

“Thank you,” I murmured, sinking down into bubbles that smelled of lavender.

“You need to eat.”

“I’m a vegetarian,” I lied. I just refused to be fed like a dog, so I went hungry.

“You eat cock just fine.”

“Please, Christos…,” I bit my lip, too weak to play his game.

“I’ll make this concession once. I’ll prepare something.”

He left me in peace. My wrists burned from where the metal chaffed my soft skin. I was so weak I could barely wash myself with the cloth he placed in my hand.

“Drink.”

I dropped the cloth, startled I didn’t hear him walk back in. He held a cup to my lips. I swallowed the sticky, sweet orange juice as it went down my throat, gulping it down so fast, it dribbled down my chin.

“Easy there, dove.”

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