Not an Object, Not a Weapon

Chapter 2: quivering, trembling, wobbling

Avarija snorts, "you want to leave this to the girl?"

"Why yes," the man snarls, "I do."

Avarija's face goes white and his eyes go from the mans to mine, "I know you don't like me but-"

"As much as I would love to hear your planned out soliloquy, which I'm sure is beautifully written, I'll just get to the point. My darling, I know you hate him, and you don't know me. I could be much better or far worse but judging on how much you seem to dislike him, I'm worth the risk." He makes a valid point, he would be worth a try but if he is far worse I will end up dead. I either choose an enemy and he will then think we are allies, or I choose a stranger and he will determine my fate. I don't like it. The man holding my shirt has a death grip and if I happen to choose Avarija he could kill be with one snap.

"What's my name?" I ask out loud. I first look at Avarija who coincidentally avoids eye contact. I then look at my capturer.

"My darling-"

"What's. My. Name," I repeat with a deeper voice, I need to know this, it is as though I can't know myself unless I know my name. This is piece of basic information that my gut is demanding to know. These words flow out of my mouth with ease, I guess because it is something that every fiber in my body wants to know. Finally my mind cooperated with my mouth.

"Edyta," the man's grip loosens so that I can fully turn to face him, "Edyta Caspersen."

"Edyta," I repeat softly to myself, I like it.

"Beautiful isn't it my darling?" Great, so I can choose to either be a darling or a flower, both make me cringe harder than I ever have before.

"Majestic," I mutter to myself and I'm not sure if anyone else hears. I love the sound my name makes as it rolls off my tongue. Smiling awkwardly to myself, Elias clears his throat as he approaches me. My capturer spins me back around and grabs tight onto my collar as he is preventing me from running into the arms of Elias.

"You can't go with him, please, you have to trust me."

"Trust?" My voice becomes hysterical. Closing my eyes, I lower my head letting gravity pull it downwards so that my eyes become fixated on my feet. Shuddering, I think back to the last time I laughed, and I can't think of it. Quivering, I think back to the last time I was overjoyed, and I can't think of it. Trembling, I think back to the last time I spoke a full sentence, and I can't think of it. Wobbling, I think back to the last time I saw my family, and I can't think of it. Basic emotions, basic feelings, I can't remember any of them. Family, friends, life, when was the last time I truly lived? When was the last time I was safe? I have no clue, no recollection and every time I say something that must trigger a part of my memory I lose my ability to think of anything else, I lose my ability to control my body. I'm damaged, broken, torn apart and I have no clue why. Avarija knows, he came to me when I was in that dark room, he knows why I am shattered and doesn't think it's my right to know why. This man, against his wishes, at least told me my name, the first real clue I have to who I used to be. I need to know more. "In you?" I ask snapping everyone's head back to me. "Defeated," I tell Avarija, he knows this word always triggers something out of me, "no recollection." I start to pant well aware of what I am doing.

"Stop," Avarija orders.

I'm sure my eyes are bloodshot and for the first time I let anger flow through my vacant eyes, "three," compressing my eyes, I focus on what I am trying to say, "were," my panting slowly starts to increase, "defeated." My chest goes in and out and my heart rate soars, "three." Releasing my eyes I feel a whole new level of emotion spread through my fingers, toes and everywhere in between. It isn't a good feeling, but it is a feeling at least. My body heats up and my blood is boiling inside of me, "no recollection." My eyes narrow at the pathetic man who can't decide to be amused or worried. Heck, I'm worried but this thing, almost like a person took control of my brain and is deciding how I should respond. "You," menace is laced through every word, "took," an acidic taste fills my mouth, "three." That last word becomes too much and even though the man is holding my collar, my legs give out and he releases me in time to let me fall. My arms are vibrating against the grass and my head is being thrown from side to side. My legs twitch and I let out a piercing shriek. I knew what I was doing, to an extent, but this is far beyond my imagination. Excruciating pain disperses throughout my body and my voice doesn't stop. The scream gets louder as my suffering increases. This is pure torture and I'm sure everyone else is deaf by now, they have to be.

Faintly I hear the man say, "good job, you have done her well."

I howl one last time into the night before my arms stop suddenly and my head stops turning. "Torture," I say before starting my usual action, curling up into fetal position and convulsing, "torment." My voice is raspy from the screaming but I am sure everyone is hearing me clearly. "Away," I say out loud and the man gets the hint because tenderly his picks up my body and starts walking.

"Guess she chose me." His eyes look at my disheveled hair and I can almost feel a soft, fatherly glow radiating from his eyes, "you alright?" His voice dynamic changed drastically and he sounds almost fatherly. Whimpering softly, I allow myself to close my eyes and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep.