If I didn't care

CHAPTER 4 "dreams" (Rose)

It was raining. Hail pelted off the roof.

They removed the black sack from my head, the material catched and pulled at my hair.

In front of me was a glass patrician. The kind used in police stations. Two way glass. But the other side was dark. Nothing visible.

The harsh lights suddenly flickered on, making my eyes smart and water. Once my vision cleared I saw Luisa. Clear as day.

She was chained to a chair.

What the actual fuck is going on. I started to dig my nails into my palm, peeling and scratching at the skin. My therapist said it was a coping mechanism. I think it's a pain in the ass. A tell tale sign that I'm weak. That they've won. But it's the opposite. I'm trying to stay cool and control myself. Otherwise I don't know what I'll do. It reminded me so much of that incident, I repulsed myself.

Even as a child I always had everything under control. Everything exactly where I needed, that is, to get what I wanted.

My pulse quickened as three men entered. I tried to scream and shout but she couldn't hear me. I had lost control. The walls and glass were too thick.

The woman pushed my chair forward, grimacing at the screech.

"Here's a better view."

I couldn't even speak I was transfixed on Luisa. Banging my head against the cool glass I realised I had to face facts. That this was worse case scenario.

That they had me.

A dead body was brought in, I knew before they even dropped him that it was my mole.

I was furious. How could he let this happen. I had never felt so small and powerless. Hands wrapped around my shoulders forcing my head further into the glass. My nose flattened against it, making it hard to breathe. All I could do was watch. And they were there to make sure I didn't miss a thing.

The woman laughed as the men stroked Luisa. They touched her hair, her skin, her thigh. I couldn't look.

I knew what they were going to do. Because of me. It was worse than torture. Some would say.

My chest tightened with anxiety, blood trickled from my palms as I heard the scream.

One of the bastards struck her. She sat there dazed. Her face swelling and bruising from the harsh force. I heard him. Telling her to behave. Luisa yelped in pain as the man entered her, thrusting in and out. Making a real show out of it. Bile rose to my mouth. I vomited on the glass. The woman took a fistful of my hair pulling me back. Obviously disgusted.

Tears poured down my face. Her eyes were empty, her face void of emotion. She didn't even attempt to struggle. I saw her freeze as the man roughly grabbed her shoulders to steady himself from his release. Swiftly, as if rehearsed, the next man straddled her. He pulled her chair closer so I could see everything. Her face crumpled as her pulled her hair, making her head tip back. He licked her throat. Then his fingers. He took his time with her. She struggled this time. They must've given her something as her movements were slow and flailing. Nevertheless she kicked and rocked until he snaked a hand around her throat, squeezing tight. He forced her legs open, wide. Then like the one before. Thrusted himself inside. I could see blood drip from the seat. Could see her pain.

My eyes shut tightly as I hoped for a miracle. I couldn't stomach the third. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve any of it. Why did they have to drag her into this. She's been through enough.

And as if God himself answered my prayers there was a crashing sound. I peeped through half shut eyes.

The police?

But how could they know?

Unless...

It couldn't have been Luisa. I refuse to believe that she would betray me.

They battered the men away from her, one of the officers cut the chains and carefully picked her up. My captor suddenly kicked into gear, panicking, and dragged me and herself away from the scene. She wouldn't let them have me.

That was too easy.

The sack was shoved over my head as the woman carelessly unshackled me from the chair. All that picking and scratching wasn't wasted. The blood lubricated the cuffs making it easy for me to slip them. I just wish I could've done it quicker. I snapped the woman's neck, snatching her keys. The only thing keeping me going was that Luisa was safe.

A few weeks had passed since then. They had hidden her away from me. Making sure I would never find her. But of course, I did. Love's funny like that. It always leads you home.

After all, ours is the greatest love story ever told. I still smile at that line. For me, it's never felt so true. So right. So pure.

When I first caught sight of Luisa I felt guilt for the first time in my life. It wasn't a performance. It wasn't stimulated. It was crippling. Heartbreaking even.

Luisa had fallen back into her old habits.

I watched from afar at first. Trying to keep my distance. To stay away. But I couldn't bare it. That idiot of a brother didn't notice. No one did. They thought she was fine. That she was coping. But I saw her.

I didn't know how to approach her, she might draw unwanted attention. The police might be watching, baiting me. So I broke in, like the criminal I am.

She was home earlier than usual, I climbed inside her big wooden wardrobe. She entered the room, it was dark apart from her bedside lamp. I sat still as Luisa hugged herself, gripping her shoulders so hard that she broke the skin. Drawing blood.

She let out a frustrated scream as her body shuddered. Throwing an empty bottle at the wall and blinking as it shattered.

I couldn't help myself. She didn't react as I clumsily tripped out the wardrobe.

"Luisa...?"

And just then, the rain stopped.