Safety is Overrated

His voice was like smooth cognac. It was the kind of voice that made people stop and listen. As expected, the voice belonged to a fine male specimen of the human race. 

I first saw him at my local bookstore. The meeting was innocent enough, we had simply made eye contact across the self while browsing the books. I didn't think much of it, I had just broke up with my boyfriend of two years because he had cheated on me and I was not ready for another one. Little did I realize, I should have just talked to him and been adventurous for once in my life. Maybe that would have saved me.

Since reading had become the most time consuming activity (besides work) in my life due to the absence of my boyfriend, I would buy one or two, sometimes three, new books to satisfy my thirst for romance. The strange thing was, I would always see him there as well. At first I thought it was just coincidence, but as it continued I thought to myself that maybe it wasn't or that it was just his routine, like I had mine. 

Eventually, we started to smile and say hi to the other one and this continued on for many weeks. It was about the end of the second month that he came to introduce himself to me. I like to think that he bumped into me and said, “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss,” in his sweet, sweet voice. We  began talking and I remember vaguely thinking that, “Yes, I think its time to give love another chance.” So, we exchanged numbers. At least I think thats what happened, it feels like so long ago.     

After we had been texting and called each other for a few days, I had found that he was a quite and reserved person, but was so nice to me. He would tell me how he didn't believe that I wasn’t spoken for and how he would love to have a chance to be with me. It’s such a shame that I was so stupid. 

I remember that I had slaved over what to wear that night. I finally decided on black leggings and a blue sweater with brown knee high boots. He said that he would take me out to dinner and a movie. I remember he picked me up at six o’clock on the dot and I  took one last look around my little apartment to make sure I had everything. I also remember thinking, should I bring my mace with me? I didn’t.

We went to an Italian restaurant a while out of the way, I think it was two towns over but it was a quint place with a homey feel to it. I think he ordered a steak, rare, while I order my favorite: chicken parmigiana. If I think hard enough I can still recall the taste of it on my tongue. We made light conversation about our family’s. I told him that I was an only child, that my parents had died in a car crash when I was a child, and that I wasn't really close to my other relatives because they thought it was my fault. Those statements made me the perfect target. They also signed my death certificate. I don't want to remember what he said about his family. As far as I’m concerned, no one would or could condone what he did to me and to the others. The movie was one that I had been dying to see, but I had no one to go with. He was that someone. Its too bad I don't remember what movie it was because it would have been a nice thing to replay in my mind. 

The next thing I recall is walking back to his car, and then the acrid scent of something, chloroform, he later told me. When I woke up, I was sore. I remember crying silently for the loss of an innocence that I would never be able to get back. But then I got angry and started to scream, shout, and in once case, demand that he let me go. He didn’t. In fact, he knocked me out again and when I came to, this time I remember I was cold, so cold that I was in pain, but then again, the pain could have been from the beating that he gave me while I was out of it. I knew I was in a deferent place then the last time I woke up. I remember the sound of crying. I looked to my right and saw a woman hanging from the ceiling by chains attached to her wrist; she was suspended in the air as well. She was naked like me, but unlike me, in one of the worst conditions a person could be in. Her legs looked like they had been broken many times and set wrong. She was covered in dirt, blood, and what looked to be bruises.  She was sobbing and begging someone not to do something. I couldn't understand her due to her crying. Then she got very quite and looked me directly in the eyes and said,

“Be quite and he wont hurt you as bad. Be willing and he will stop. Be kind and he will be kind, or as kind as he can be, back.”

Once she finished she looked straight ahead and did not utter another word, but I think she needed silence to accept her fate and so I gave it to her. After a while it looked like she fell asleep. 

I don’t want to think of what happened to her or, to me next but it wasn't long before I was in her position. I can’t forget that he wanted me to beg, though. No matter what he did to me, though, I promised that I would not do what he wanted and I took the other woman's advise, which proved to be true. 

Everything was going as well as it could have been for me for a while until he got tired. I guess I was following the woman's counsel so well he got bored with me. Well, till he put me in the other room. That room is where he finally made me break one of my promises. He made me scream so loud that I was surprised his ears didn't bleed. 

“I can make it all go away.” As he would slash at my once beautiful skin.

“ Don't you want all the pain to go away?” As he broke my pelvics, legs, and ribs.

“Aren't you tired?” As he let the rats and bugs have a taste of me. 

“Come on, just give in.” As he whispered against my ear while touching me.

And as a single tear slid down my dirty cheek, I whispered, please, and everything fell into sweet, blessed, darkness.