The Lotus and the Dragonfly

Chapter 26 _BeCOmiNg_InVIsible_

Mia was in the habit of speaking out loud to herself, these days, "you made your bed, now you have to lie in it!" as she tucked the corner of the bed sheet tightly under the mattress. She punched the pillows, fluffing them up and stacked them neatly in twos. It felt as if Tom was avoiding her these days. They were at opposite ends of the house. Tom was preoccupied these days, spending more of his time, down in the basement, sorting things out and preparing for a new guest, as he liked to call it. He never went to work, luckily he had a small team of workers, who got on with their duties without him. He had no financial worries and everything rolled along without any financial problems.

The day before, Mia had gone with him down into the basement. It was the moldy smell that made her nearly pass out. Walking down the flight of stairs, she felt dizzy and anxious. When he unlocked the door, the sound of the click caused her to have a flashback. There was a sudden rush of bad memories and the heavy wooden door of the room, looked like it was made of rubber. She couldn't enter and stood rigidly at the doorway and glanced in at the mattress on the floor. She saw herself lying in it, in the fetal position.

Tom seemed unaware of her discomfort, the panic attack which threatened to take hold of her. He informed her, that he would take care of everything. She turned around and left him to it and ran back upstairs. When he came back up, he saw her sitting at the table drinking a cup of tea. But he didn't notice there was a slight tremor in her fingers when she picked up the cup. It was odd that he walked straight past her without making eye contact or saying a word. Usually, he would sit down and join her. But lately, she felt as if he was ignoring her and it had started to make her feel deeply insecure. She was not a thing, an object, she was a human being. But whatever was going through his mind now, she didn't quite know what it was. It was throwing her off balance and it took all of her energy to appear calm.

With nothing else to keep her busy and Tom being so occupied, Mia repeatedly went over in her mind what would happen if she returned back to society again. She felt that people would always be looking at her, wondering what had gone on. They would be encouraging, but then she would notice the change in their smile when they realized what an ordeal she had suffered. Then the look of pity would as quickly turn into a sinister sneer or a nasty comment.

The accusations would spill out, one after the other, eventually culminating in a tirade of abuse. She would have to endure this all her life. They would say that it was her fault. Blame her. Why had she gone into his house in the first place? Then to top it all, fell asleep on his bed! That was a recipe for disaster right away. Some would say she deserved what she got. Mia honestly still could not answer why she did it. What was she thinking? How could anyone be so naive? And how could she answer these question, if she didn't know the answer herself?

She could imagine herself at a desk in a small, airless room, being interrogated by the authorities or the media. She hated being put on the spot. Her mind would go blank. Or maybe, she would stutter some feeble excuses, hopelessly trying to justify herself. She could see the scenario playing out like a movie in her mind.

The men would be the worst. They would leer at her, wondering if she was an easy fuck and if she was kinky. They would want to get into her knickers. She would inevitably attract this type of person, who would sneer and gloat at her. He would give off subtle messages that she was just a cheap whore. But then, women could be even crueler, pretending to be sympathetic, then spreading malicious gossip behind her back. The sound of whispering was the worst. It made her skin crawl just thinking about it.

No doubt, a reporter would look into all of her previous relationships. Everything would be up for scrutiny. They would want to know all about her life down to the minutest detail and if the press couldn't find anything juicy, they would twist it and present it as fact. The question would eventually pop up: when would she write a book about her kidnapping? Because as far as they could see, after something like this, everyone was in it for the money. The book followed by the film. Mia could see herself being portrayed by a woman more beautiful than she was. At these moments, which were becoming increasingly more frequent, her head hurt just thinking about all the questions that she would have to face if she went back to the outside world. They would want to know if he raped her. When did they first have sex? How often? What did they talk about?