I'm Blind Not Fragile

Chapter 18

The air was cold. Like many of the rooms in Howard's mansion, this one seems large and spacious. There was a light breeze on my face but no noises that would indicate an open window. The air smelled completely clean of toxins which isn't all that common when you grow up in Brooklyn. Howard's goon dragged me here a long time ago. I've been tied to this chair for maybe 2 hours? Long enough that I wish I had eaten some breakfast before pissing Howard off, but not long enough that I have to pee.

It was sensory blindness. I'm used to the normal setback of not being able to see things around me. But in this room, there are no sounds, smells, or taste. The only feeling I had stopped maybe 30 minutes ago as my limbs slowly went numb from this horrible chair.

The suspense made my heart race. When will he punish me? Is this my punishment locked in a room and forgotten about? Something very quiet made my ears perk. Is someone coming? I heard footsteps coming toward the darkroom.

A long metal screeching erupted through the room. The door shrieked as it was pushed open. By the sounds of it, the door was made of heavy metal and it was very thick. I heard a low chuckle before Howard chuckled from my right. When did he get over there? I didn't hear his footsteps. I wiped my head around to get my ears closer to the source. Suddenly Howard was on the other side of the room, chuckling again. I couldn't hear his footsteps or even his breath.

"You doing all right there Gertrude? You're looking a bit nervous." Howard said from yet another direction. My head whipped around so fast this time I hit my own face with my ponytail. "Don't strain yourself, dear." He said in the most condescending voice, "You may want it for what I have planned." This time his voice came out all around me and the only explanation could be-

"Speakers. Yes Gertrude, see the best part about you being blind is the mind games. You cant see the speakers, nor can you see the plans I have for you, which is right in front of your face." Howard spoke as if he could hear exactly what I was thinking. What could he be planning for me though? He can't kill me until his deal goes through. But there are things worse than death.

"Speakers have so many benefits, don't you think Gertrude. For example, these particular speakers are surround sound so they can make you feel surrounded by my words," He says and as if to demonstrate his voice is all around me, "Or they make it seem like I'm whispering in your ears" The effect was so realistic I felt as if I should feel his breath around me.

"I'm sure I could drive you insane with constant whispers from these babies, but I have a different punishment planned for you. Now I want you to understand that you caused this Gertrude. If you had simply complied you needn't be in this position. I need you to learn that you can't go around disrespecting me." Howard says almost as if he regrets that he is doing this. I almost believe that maybe he did regret what he was doing but that all came crashing down at the next words that left his mouth. "Now you will not enjoy this but you can take comfort in the fact that I will enjoy this immensely. Although maybe you don't find comfort in that. You are a selfish bitch not thinking about doing things to help others.

"You done monologuing yet old man?" I asked sick of feeling helpless in this chair. Howard can do a great many things to me but I'm determined that he won't silence me. "You sure do have a lot of toys to do something like this. How many young girls do you torture in your basement exactly?"

"You see its that mouth of yours that gets you in so much trouble daughter. Now, let's play a game, I'm going to say a word and you are going to say the first word that comes to your mind. Ready?" His suggestion confuses me.

"Let's start easy: Gertrude" His first word is annoying he knows that I hate my name. In defiance I said nothing. In response to my silence, Howard says over the speakers, "That's the wrong answer, Gertrude." Suddenly a high-pitched noise rings throughout the room so loud that it instantly gave me a headache. The horrid screeching sound turned off after a few seconds but it left me shaking my head trying to get it out. "That right there is a pitch that will stay in your head long after it stops. But don't worry, it won't permanently damage your ears...much. Now let's try this again: Gertrude."

"Irrelevant," I said begrudgingly

"Interesting, now how about...Oh how about: Father," He says giving me an opportunity I could just give up

"Scumbag" I toss out, feeling like I've been using 'bastard' enough and decided to spice things up a little. I heard Howard growl through the speakers before all I heard was the screech. It made my head hurt so bad and I almost didn't notice when the noise stopped because my ears were ringing.

"I could do this all day Gertrude, can you say the same? Let's try again: Father," he growls

"Swine" he will not silence me. The sound came again.

"Father"

"Weasel" the sound was on for longer his time make 20 or 30 seconds.

"I see this isn't working. That's alright I have other plans. If you had been less difficult Gertrude you could have avoided this. Maybe the sound is too gentle. You only understand violence yes? Well, then pain shall be your teacher." His words scared me. What is he planning?

I heard a faint hissing sound throughout the room and my heart began to beat even faster. I began breathing really fast and making myself even more worked up. Mere seconds later I felt it.

"One of the many benefits of contributing to the police department is that they look the other way when less than flattering rumors surround you. They also don't care when you occasionally take things from their stockroom. Hell, the officers practically showed me where the tear gas was. I'm glad I finally have a use for it."

The mace was all around me, but it had somehow pierced inside of me to the point where I couldn't function. There was no difference between my burning skin and my burning lungs.

All the pores on my face were burning and I couldn't stop the scream from making its way out of my mouth. Because my eyes. My useless broken eyes were the worst of the pain. Never have they been of use to me, just random squishy balls in my face. When I was younger I used to feel self-conscious about them. Although it is a myth that blind people's eyes look different than seeing people's eyes, people always make a comment when you aren't making eye contact. I can never quite face directly at a person, just their general direction. During this time I wore glasses to cover my eyes, my brother used to buy me all manners of "shades" he had more fun with it than I did.

Never before have my eyes hurt, and now I was feeling the most unbearable pain imaginable right on my weakness. Every breath I took burned. My bones melted and mixed with my muscles. My veins carried fire through my body. I heard my screaming as if from a distance. As if this teargas ripped me from my body in a portal of pain.

Some part of me heard Howard. His voice through those horrid speakers. "This is what happens when you talk back to your elders Gertrude. Nobody can hear you scream."

And scream I did. Everything around me burned. I didn't know where my skin and the inside of my body ended. Every time I screamed a new wave of the mace came inside my body and reignited the burn.

I don't know how long I sat there. The pain made it hard to think. I know at one point I soiled myself, but I didn't care. I just wanted this pain to end. It was then that I knew that I would do anything to make this stop. Anything but this. That's when I started begging. Begging the man I hate, who fathered me then threw me away like trash. The man who has stepped on the backs of other people to get to the top. The man who lies to potential business partners just to make them want the deal more.

The pleads went unanswered. I promised so many things that he would want but nothing made this stop. This horrible burning.

It wasn't until my mind gave up control, in preservation of itself, that I found the cooling relief of unconsciousness.