Caged

The next morning everything seemed to have fallen back into a routine.

Alba was tapping my shoulder, and all I could think about was jumping out of the library window. I met her eyes, took in her features, as it would probably be the last time I saw her.

I was going to jump from the third story into the snow. And I was not like that other guy I met downstairs who healed immediately. So I’d most likely die and be free of this prison.

It was the Fourth of July, Independence Day in the United States. The United States declared itself free from the rule of Great Britain on this very day. They got freedom and I would too.

Last year I was in New York on the Fourth of July. My aunt and I stayed in and cooked a nice Indian meal together. We had talked for hours about relationships, ex-boyfriends, and men in general.

The day of freedom was here, and my mind was set. I wasn’t afraid of doing it. It actually seemed pretty easy. Jump out of the window and fly to heaven.

There was just one problem. I wanted to know if John and Boone were able to open that hatch. What could be in there? Ghosts? Ruins? Money? Snakes?

Without wasting any more time, I switched on the TV and jumped into bed. I just had to know about the hatch, and then I could die peacefully.

I also guiltlessly gobbled down all the food on the dining table. Coffee, omelet, toast, grilled fish, salad, and a bowl of melon.

I didn’t understand where it all went. I took it all in gracefully. No nausea or anything. Usually, I’m nauseous when I eat fish, but not today.

My mind and body were both messed up, I believe. I wanted to finish the bloody thing off; see what was in the hatch and then die peacefully.

Episode after episode I kept watching, and they couldn’t open it. The hatch. No ax; no stone could break it. It was creeping me out. I was dying to get a tiny little peep inside. It was a disgusting feeling.

I watched all the episodes, and when they were finally able to open it, it was over. The show was over; the season was over. The hatch was opened, but nobody knew what was inside. And I definitely wouldn’t know. It was over for me.

I felt cheated and dejected. When I stepped down from the bed and started walking toward the library door, the clock struck eight.

He’d be here any moment. If he caught me doing anything like this, he’d make it tougher for me to live and to die.

I had lost that day. I would not die on the Fourth of July. It was too much. All this felt worse than being held captive in the first place.

I mean it was probably not him; it was the universe that was toying with me and torturing me. A moment of bliss and satisfaction was what I wanted when I fell from the window. With a smile on my face.

What did I do so wrong to be here, to be like this? Who would know? I didn’t remember half of the things about me.

My face was stone hard with no expression, not even anger, when I heard him again. He was calling me and only me. He needed me. My new housemate. He was in pain, but he wasn’t alone.

“Heeeeeellllllllllllpppppppppp.”

I had never heard a word before. He would scream in pain and shout but never speak a word. He would never ask for help. But now he was. Because he knew I was listening. And then I heard him too.

“YOU WILL TELL ME THE TRUTH NOW!” he yelled, emphasizing each word. I will admit that I was scared then. All the determination, anger, and agitation were replaced by fear. Fear of him. Daniel.

I lay in bed quietly. I waited for a long time, but he didn’t show up. I thought, he’s too busy downstairs; he’s not coming.

But he came. The door unlocked, and I acted like I was in a deep sleep. He walked around the room probably changing and getting ready for bed.

“YOU WILL TELL ME THE TRUTH NOW!”

That sentence kept ringing in my ears, and it was all I could think about. I could even imagine him saying it with gritted teeth when he touched my arm. It startled me.

I was planning to lie motionless, but I almost cried at that touch. It shocked him too.

“Are you all right?” he asked so softly that I couldn’t believe the contrast between his voice downstairs and now.

“I’m fine. I was having a nightmare,” I managed to say without looking at him.

“What did you see?” he said, brushing my arm and kissing my forehead.

I didn’t reply. I hated him, his touch, his caress—but I also felt weirdly triumphant that he would no longer hurt me. He’ll hurt the other one but not me; now I’ll be kept dear.

I was superior to that man, whoever he was.

Daniel held me in his arms so close and so tight that I could taste his breath. He was asleep very quickly, but it took me some time to calm down and drift to sleep.

The last thing I saw that night was his necklace. And for the first time, I could see the power radiating from it. It was no ordinary necklace. There was something very, very dangerous about it.