sympathy

Chapter Two

{I probably should have put this before, but this will be a mature story. There will be no smut, but there will be mentions of abuse, alcoholism, drug abuse, poor health conditions, detailed suicide attempts, and sexual abuse/rape. If those things bother you, this story is most likely not for you. Thank You}

Things changed after that.

It's amazing really, what a tiny almost untraceable amount of powder can do. The entire world sped up while I was barely moving. Your eyes were wide and locked on the body that didn't seem to belong to me anymore. I don't remember anything else besides the room. I remember the lights turning into blurs of raging fires, the air-conditioning sending goosebumps down my arms, and the smell of coffee mixed with your lavender. You had your hand tight around mine as you grabbed me and you took me and you stole me.

I remember feeling blisters on my thigh. A burn mark that branded it. I don't remember how I got it, so I just guessed- hoped- I spilled my coffee when you dragged me out of that coffee shop. It's still there, by the way. In case you have a reason to feel guilty about it. Do you?

You made me walk swiftly to the side of the airport. You handed me new clothes; a long skirt, shoes with heels, and a shirt. I must have put them on. I don't know how. You took your top off after I was dressed. I snuck my hand and felt your back. Warm, firm, tan like wet sand. I don't know why I did it or what I was thinking, or even if I was, but I know something in me told me I needed to touch you. It is so strange to be able to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with the feeling of your skin against them. God I wasn't thinking for myself, right? It was the drug you slipped in my drink that made me do that.

I don't remember a single thing after that, besides the taste of chocolate. I asked you later why it never left my mouth. It was the drug you used to knock me out before the plane landed.

I do remember one thing for sure, and that was the waking up part. And the heat. It clawed at my throat, and tried to stop my lungs from pumping air. It made me want to pass out again. It made me want to pass out forever. And never wake up. And then there was the pain.

The only good thing that came out of waking up was the relief that you hadn't tied me to the bed. That one movie we watched together on facetime had a girl tied to the bed. It never ends well. Being tied to a bed is for one of three things: you are about to get murdered, you are about to get raped and/or murdered, or you are very kinky in bed. That last one was definitely not the situation we had happening, so I made up my mind and went with the second one. Including the murder part. You should know that I included that part based on our first fight.
Each time I moved any part of my body even a centimeter, puke rose in my throat and my head spun faster than a carousel. There was a thin sheet over me. I felt like I was in the middle of a hot tub that had the heat turned up too high. The walls were long planks, hand made and bolted at the corners. I couldn't see you anywhere. I tasted vomit in my mouth that rose when I looked around the room for your familiar, not so kind anymore face. My throat felt thick. Raspy. Useless.

I closed my eyes once again, trying to take a deep breath. I carefully checked to see if all of my limbs were attached and worked. My shirt was sweaty, attached to my chest. I only had a t-shirt on and my underwear. My watch was gone.

I ran my hand down over my underwear and felt through them. I didn't know what I was looking to find; maybe blood or torn flesh would cover my fingers. Maybe pain. There was nothing like that, though. Had you done anything to me? Had you violated my entire body without me conscious? And, if so, why had you bothered to put them back on my lifeless body? Why not let me know you had the power, and I was helpless? Why not let me know you could do whatever you wanted to me? If you had, it wouldn't happen again. Not without a fight this time, at least.

"I haven't raped you."

I swung my head around so fast I thought it was going to fly off. The pain approached so fast it convinced me it had. My eyes searched for you. My eyes were still blurry. I could sense you though. You were behind me. I tried pushing my body to the edge of the bed away from you, but my arms were far too weak. I only managed out a desperate whimper. My mouth was against the pillowcase. I heard you take a step somewhere in the room. My blood was pumping to loudly to tell where exactly you were.

"Your clothes are beside the bed."

I flinched at the sound of your voice. It didn't calm or attract me with it's softness anymore. Where were you? How close? I could hear you taking steps, coming toward me. I tried to curl into a ball, but everything was heavy and slow. I was in a bad place. I knew that. I didn't know how I had gotten there. I didn't know what you had done to me. I didn't know what you were going to do to me.

I opened my eyes again. A pair of light brown cargo pants were eye level with me. My eyes were directly in line with the material between your knees and crotch, level with dirt stains that covered all over them. You just sat there, not saying a word. I heard my breathing speeding up over time. I clenched my hands into fists around the bed sheets. I forced my eyes to meet yours. My breath faltered for a second then. I don't know why, but i didn't exactly expect you to be there. I expected someone else. I didn't want the person who did god knows what to me, to be the same person I found so attractive at the airport. You were there all right: the green eyes, blondish hair, and the same tiny scar. You didn't look beautiful this time. Just... evil.

Your face didn't have the interest and adoration anymore. It was blank. Those green eyes seemed to be as hard as emerald. I pulled the sheets up until only my eyes were visible to you, watching you. The rest of me was paralyzed. You stood there, waiting for me to start the conversation I think, waiting for the questions. When I didn't budge, when I didn't give in, you answered them anyways.

"I brought you here," you said. "You feel sick because of the effects of the drugs. You'll feel different, weak, for a while... shallow breathing, nausea, vertigo, insomnia, hallucinations..."

Your face was unreadable as you spoke. There were no emotions. There were tiny stars behind my eyelids as I hid in their darkness. That was better than wherever I was. A whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars. I could hear you getting closer. I tried my voice.

"Why?" I whispered.

"I had to take you."

The bed creaked and my body rose a little as you sat down on the trashy mattress. I dragged myself away from you, which only caused you to lean in my direction slightly more. It was as if the entire world had turned around on me. What the hell was even going on? It was much bigger than I knew then. I pointed my head away from you, expecting to be sick at any moment. It never came. I gave into the silence. My chest was too tight to cry, and you were too invested in my response to let me just sit there.

"Where am I?"

You paused before answering. I heard your chest rise and then release. A sigh. You were closer than I remembered now. Your arm slowly rose, approaching my face. I couldn't move. I was a deer in frozen headlights. Were you going to choke me? I didn't know then: your intentions. I watched as it got closer and closer to my cheek. The second your palm was resting on my cheek, stroking it, my eyes were filled with tears. I was helpless. There were no other sounds, except for my breathing, tears falling, and your voice. No other sounds anywhere.

"You're here," you said. "You're safe."

Total Word Count: 1438