𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖗 𝕭𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 [Ongoing]

ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

Dedicated to its_dark_soul_

How could I let him kiss me?

How could I, in all my sanity, let him ever touch me?

How could I feel good when he touched me, instead of wrenching my guts out in a toilet seat?

I had no answer to that as I stand under the shower. Not in Basheer's room. The one at the far end of the floor. My pride had taken a hit when he discarded me like nothing.

I meant nothing to him.

Why does my heartache?

Do I want to mean something to him other than his captor?

Nehali! Wake up Nehali. Remember all those faces from your camp? Remember the pain, the agony your people have been suffering because of them?

I remember but in some part of my mind, I do believe he has something good in him. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't.

From the time in the bathroom to him taking care of my wound and him taking my mouth in a rough kiss I had somehow come to trust him.

I should have hated him. But instead, I trusted him.

Trust ain't voluntary.

But he broke it. Didn't he?

Get your walls up Nehali.

I let the tears flow freely, the tears mixed with shower drops cascading down my curves. This is the only place I let myself cry. Last time I cried when I parted with my uniform, the day my fate took a u-turn. All my life when I had failed repeatedly, either at meeting my parent's expectations or my own I had allowed myself to break down, only here, where no one, not even myself could see me breaking down.

I hated crying. I hated how weak and ugly I looked crying. But sometimes this was the only way to let the pain go. Hence, I let it go in the secrecy of the running shower.

His words shouldn't have had any effect on me but somehow they did cut a huge gash somewhere I had no idea about. I had spent all five years in Medical School trying to reach my dream, when others had been busy dating, losing their virginities, doing every other thing a young blooded female and male would do. But I had refrained from all of it and often being called "weird" for that. Yesterday, under a spell, I had somehow given myself to him almost ready to lose my virginity to him. And then he broke his carefully woven spell.

Today must have been the longest time I spent under the shower crying. I close my eyes leaning my head against the shower glass.

A prisoner. That's what you are.

Only your prison is quite beautiful and your captivator is devilishly handsome.

My steely resolve returns as I decide I won't be swayed by the turns my fate is taking.