Mona: October 3, 2014
I never saw Jarek anymore. None of us had. Zoey was the last to see anything of him when she came back down about a month ago with multiple bruises- of which strangely disappeared completely after a few days.
A month. That's how long I had been here. I felt like I was slowly going insane being tied up in the same position with the same people for 33 days.
Over the past few weeks, I had began to wonder what Brenton was doing. What my family was doing.
Were they okay? Were they trying to find me?
I was slowly introduced to the reality that I probably was never going to see any of them again. Damien was keeping us alive until Jarek healed. Then who knows what would happen. We would be sold as sex slaves?
The entire scenario made no sense to me. I wasn't given enough pieces to solve the puzzle of my own fate. Of Beth's, Kaila's, Jenna's, and Zoey's fates.
Damien didn't seem so bad. Zoey always vouched for him, insisting that he was good even though he was the one to beat her with a hammer for lord knows how long.
Something told me Zoey was losing it. She was pulling at his random kindness in hopes that she would get out. I couldn't blame her. He seemed nice enough and if he hadn't hurt her, I would almost believe he would help us escape this nightmare.
In these types of situations, you grasp at anything that could even remotely save you.
I had tried saving myself. I had failed miserably. My back still ached from the infected lashes I was given and I couldn't rest my back against anything. I waited until the girls were asleep to cry out the pain. To cry out my fear and dead hopes.
I couldn't fight anymore. The infection was killing me and no one seemed to care. I didn't care. Damien tried cleaning it but I desperately needed medical attention.
I didn't care anymore. I was hoping the infection would kill me before round 2.
My hopes were crushed when the door opened as I thought this. My hopes were crushed when I saw Damien rushing down the steps with odd black bags and my hopes were crushed when he ran for me and scooped me into his arms, carrying me back upstairs and into the house without a word.
I was taken to a different room in the house. It had a bed with dark bed sheets and a personal laptop in the corner of the room on a small desk. He placed me on the bed and started to rummage through his bag.
"What's going on?" I asked quietly. My voice was rarely used anymore and it sounded like it was the first time using it in 5 years. It was ragged and croaky.
Damien looked at me and smiled slightly before pulling a weird, unmarked bottle out of his bag. "I need to stop that infection." he whispered.
I stared at him blankly. "How?"
He pulled a syringe out of his bag and passed me a quick glance to let me know he had heard me. "Antibiotics."
"But I'll need to be on those for..." I was cut off by my own voice cutting out. I needed water or something so it wasn't so scratchy.
Damien nodded. "Jarek is on a lot of pain pills. He's been out of it for a while now and will be for a while longer. I'll keep you up here on the antibiotics until the infection is gone. If it doesn't go away..." he trailed off.
I nodded as he began to untie my wrists carefully. "How's the scar on your wrist? That ok?" he asked gently.
I raised an eyebrow but nodded anyway.
His expression changed to it's usual emotionless stare as he moved to untie my ankles.
"Mona?" he asked in a hushed voice.
"H'm?" I hummed back quietly.
He moved back up the bed he had laid me on and looked me in the eyes. "I need you to promise me you won't run. I know I haven't given you any reason to trust me or promise me anything but this is your life, ok? They're everywhere out there. Everyone he-er-we work with in this town are just waiting for something to happen. If you run, round 2 starts and you will be shot dead or quickly taken to a port where they will drug you and sell you like cattle. Same with Zoey, Kaila, Beth, Jenna... All of you. Let me take care of you and don't put yourself at risk."
I nodded, my heart racing faster now. Damien let out a stressed breath and returned my nod before finishing untying my ankles.
"Lay down." he instructed me as he reached for the syringe.
I hesitated and he looked at me as if to say "do as I say."
Looking at my fingers, I tried not to get emotional as I stuttered in an attempt to explain.
"I just. I. I um. I don't know if you're lying to me. I feel like you're about to drug me." I admitted.
Damien gave me a quizzical look. "You're a bit too green eyed for my taste, Mona. I won't hurt you. I haven't hurt any of you." he laughed quietly.
I looked into his grey eyes angrily and hid my spiteful tone. "You hurt Zoey." my voice was harsh and cold.
Damien sighed as he filled the medical bag with the antibiotics he some how had obtained. "You don't understand, Mona. I wish." he let out a frustrated sigh and lowered his hands as his concentration broke. "Just. Just wait, ok? You'll understand everything soon enough."
I sighed and slowly relaxed against the soft mattress; a large change to the usual cement I slept on. "I will never understand why you could hurt someone like that." I mumbled under my breath.
"Drop it." he urged me.
I glared at him as he tapped the needle of the syringe carefully. "No. You have no idea what we've been through. Kidnappings and beatings. Being raped!" my voice broke on the last part and I looked away, blinking away the tears that burned my vision.
I felt a small prick in my inner elbow and jumped a little, looking back at Damien.
His eyes moved up from my arm to my own eyes. "You're right. I don't know what you've been through. But right now isn't the time to discuss it."
I searched his features for any answer I could get, but turned up with nothing. "Why don't you get us out of here? Yo-you you hurt Zoey, you keep us alive just so we can be sold as healthy little sex toys for some guy in this world. Why?" my free hand flung around excitedly as it animated my emotions for emphasis.
Damien sat down on the floor and rested his forearms on his knees. "I didn't hurt Zoey. I couldn't." his voice came as a whisper.
I rolled my eyes. "So her bruises lied, then?"
Damien cracked a smile. "Actually, yeah. It was makeup. I told her to scream as I hit the walls. I applied the makeup so it would look like she got hurt. I couldn't do it."
"But that doesn't make up for you keeping me alive so I'll be a good sell." I snapped.
Damien shook his head and got to his feet. "You don't understand."
"Please enlighten me, Damien."
He turned on his heel, his face in a scowl. "Drop it." he bent down and sifted through his bag again, pulling out baggy sweats and a purple sweater. He threw the clothes at me and turned his back. "Put those on. Jeans and a bloody T-shirt won't help the infection. If the IV falls out, I'll come back in in ten to set you back up." and with that, he left the room and closed the door behind him, clicking the lock into place.
I was alone now.