Submitting

"You are weak, weak and pathetic." She didn't lift her face, hiding behind the curtain of hair. It was her only shield, one so feeble and fragile but perhaps hiding her emotions was of more priority.

"You are such a shame and disgrace to our family. Have you ever thought about us? How could you when you are too busy being selfish." Yes indeed, it hurt and the heaviness was too much on these weak shoulders that they couldn't help but crumble down. The urge to call someone for help clenched her heart, but she knew no one in this house would do so. For a seven-year-old, she felt like she was very dumb since she didn't know what she did wrong to earn this punishment.

It has been four years now, and she still doesn't know.

She was used to the pain that she felt in her bones and muscles. It was a daily routine now. As soon as the hands of the clock paused at eight in the evening every day, she tried to brace herself for what was about to come but it never helped.

"It would have been better if we just let you out in the streets and leave you alone. That's what you want don't you?" The angry scowl on her father's face scared the young soul even more but most of all, she was sad. Sadness had engulfed the small spark of light inside her.

Such dark sorrow should not exist for such a young age.

Hot streams of tears cascaded down her face, but they were invisible to her father as he did not have any mercy and kept on hurting his daughter relentlessly, with words such sharp as daggers she was bound to bleed. The disgust was clear in his eyes as he fisted his hand with the urge to hurt her even more as fury and lost consciousness made him do things which he did whenever he was the slightest bit upset. His daughter was the suitable punching bag as her silence and vulnerability almost seemed to beg him to hurt her. Defencelessly she just looked at her father's face with her glossy eyes, waiting for him to notice her, to actually see her and what she was feeling. But he didn't because he was blind whenever he saw her.

Fury was still hot inside him like molten lava as he spat on the floor with a scowl on his face that expressed his disgust more openly than she could ever imagine like she was the first and last person he hated the most. A stranger, a foe, a hostage. Hatred had never been so cruel as fate itself. It churned inside this being like the devil's mind and possessed him like a demon. Why did she choose to come here? Why didn't she die like she was supposed to? It would have been a relief on both ends.

Her white dress with several stains and stitches on them seemed to be made for a child of a much younger age but her petite and skinny figure seemed to fit anyway. Moreover, it was loose on her as it swished below her knees when she lost her balance and fell on the floor. The sound of cloth tearing sped her heart faster as she looked at her father again, hoping he didn't hear the tear in her dress. But it was too late.

"Did. You. Just. Tear. Your. Dress? Do you even know how much that dress costs? Of course, you wouldn't because you have never earned a single penny. You don't know how hard I have to work to earn a dollar every day and here you are wasting and destroying everything like the princess you are." Tired and helpless, she gave up. The energy to even wail was lost yet her tears were unforgiving since they never stopped their distressed downpour. Things pile up and then one day the tower collapses and bring everything down with it.

You can only hold on for so long.

There was still something missing to him. The satisfaction was not yet enough. With one push of his hand, he slammed her on the floor and got up from the dying wooden chair as it creaked painfully. The floor beneath him winced every time he walked towards the door with his dark charcoal boots whose squeaks always triggered the unmeasurable fear inside her. It was like a warning, an alarm of his arrival that made her life more dreadful than it already was.

The door was left wide open as he walked out leaving a trail of echoes behind. There was a huge temptation to walk out of that door and never look back, but she knew better than that. The things that were going to happen next was not a mystery to her. He was angrier than usual, she made him angry, and so he was going to quench the fire inside him by drinking her innocent feather tears.

Two pairs of footsteps walked towards the doorway and stopped outside, staring at the cocooned body of their own blood and flesh. The last part seemed to be lost to them since they didn't even acknowledge the tremors that ran through her body and walked towards her with a renewed anger churning inside them. A cold splash of water blinded her as she closed her eyes and let the tears get wash away. She was thankful that they won't be able to see her tears now. She didn't want to be weak, it was not chosen by her.

She was forced.

She was submitting.

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to have no feelings at all? No happiness, no sadness, no evilness, nothing. Just like trees. They don't feel anything at all, and they are okay with it because they never experienced anything emotional. Any ways, they don't have an option. But we do. So what happens when you are numb and there is nothing left at all?

I never hurt myself because I felt dead, I did because I didn't. The pain inside had swallowed everything and it just won't stop. It wanted to get out and tear through my skin. The waves surging inside wanted to break through, and so I had to let it. I had to pick up the blade and drag it across myself and see the blood ooze out of the gashes. At that moment, there was no wrong or right, the devil was not sitting on my shoulder and neither was conscience. It was just me trying to help myself.

Death, I never wanted to kill myself nor show anyone how broken I am. So my thighs seemed to be the better canvas for the art of chaos. A place only I can see, a place no one else knows.

I was thankful for the black ceiling up above. It made it impossible for my thoughts to project in front of my eyes, especially my memories. The only source of light in the corner of the room was not enough to swallow the darkness though but it let me see enough. I wish it hadn't.

I didn't want to see the black walls, I didn't want to see the black floor, I didn't want to see the black veils of the bed to which I was tied to. It was hard not to be consumed by it all but I tried as hard as I could.

There were no mirrors in the room, nothing except the dull brown items of furniture with several shut drawers. I didn't know whether they were unlocked or not since the ropes that bound me to the tall bedposts made it impossible for me to move at all. He was no fool. He left me alone in this room, but he never let me free. All senses of freedom had been long snatched away from me when I woke up in this room with four walls, drawers, and a door. Nothing but empty walls.

Sometimes it felt like I was going to go insane. I would see Liza sitting in one of the dark corners of the room with dead eyes staring at me, asking me why I never told her about him, my past, everything. That it was my fault. I killed her.

Sometimes I would see my mother in her place.

In moments like these, I try not to look in that corner. Instead, I would stare at the dim light shining from the pair of small flower shaped light holders with only the left one working. My body was already out of tears now, only the stains remained.

All that I had left of myself was my body which was clothed in a black nightdress and untouched. At least that's what I believe.

I wasn't completely left alone though, he would come in sometimes to give me food. Other times I would wake up with a full stomach with no such memory of consuming anything but my tears that unwittingly rolled down my cheeks. I don't know what he did to make me unconscious.

He never came in to give me food only. I would often wake up to the sound of flashes as he took Polaroid pictures of me. At first, I would blink and shake my head slowly to get over the blinding flashes while groggily tugging at the ropes then finally, my muffled whimpers echoed through the room since my lips were sealed shut with a duct tape. He didn't like to hear me scream.

Eventually, I got used to it. I don't know how many days I have been here or how many weeks it took me to get used to it, but ultimately I did. Every time he comes in and takes pictures of me, I stare into his dark green eyes and silently ask him.

Why?

He knows the question even though I never say it out loud. He knows it because he looks into my eyes and matches my stares with an undecipherable emotion I never understood. Only silence prevailed in between us. Sometimes I think that it is better that way because I was not yet prepared to hear what I saw in the dark corner.

Are they supposed to be forgotten?

Forgiven for all those times when tears drowned those eyes.

Those sleepless nights all alone

Lying on the bed with the stained pillows.

Crying and laughing and crying again

For the fate that has chosen

A life that never ends.

****

I woke up to the flash of bright light falling on my closed eyelids. The urge to open them and see what's happening was immense but the strange heaviness that possessed them made it impossible for me to do so. Perhaps I could use my hands to help me but alas they were tied up but not on top of my head like before. Instead, they were painfully arched back and held together with something that had severe sharp teeth for grip and the more I tried to struggle, the more my hands bled. My legs were in the same condition.

Needless to say, I was tied up with zip ties.

Slowly parting my lips, I tried to call for help but was soon interrupted by the inevitable reality. No one will come to rescue me because I had no one. I didn't know where Liza was or what happened to her but if she is here then I am not going to leave without her. If Liza is being treated worse than me, then I wanted to be treated worse than her because I deserve it. She was never supposed to get caught in my shit. I should have known better. I should have known that my life won't ever be better. It can only go worse.

The bang of a heavy metal rod from one corner of the room almost made me scream. I sucked in a deep breath to push the urge to bawl my eyes out. If there is one thing that life taught me then it's controlling my emotions on the outside. All of them who hurt me just wanted a reaction from me to satisfy their sick need for power and I would be wrong if I said that the monster in this room didn't want the same.

The shrill cry of the rod being dragged forward, closer and closer to me made my skin crawl with goosebumps. I wanted to hide, I wanted to run away but I couldn't. The feeling of being trapped was not new to me, neither was fear.

Finally, he stopped in front me with his sharp gaze pricking my soul and said the words that froze my whole being.

You've lost some weight yet you look as beautiful as the first day I met you. It was at that moment when the drowning waves of dread settled on me. I was too busy to notice anything except for the burn in my hands and legs. Especially because I was not allowed the advantage of my sight so there was nothing for me to deduce. Not even my attire.

There was nothing much to what I could feel on my skin. Perhaps a flimsy lingerie with a net embroidery which itched every time I moved. My eyes were undoubtedly blindfolded by a piece of cloth tightly wound around my head. Thankfully, my mouth was not gagged or sealed while I was made to sit on the chair with both of my legs tied to the legs of the chair. Such a compromising position made me feel more vulnerable than all that time when I was bound to the bed, unable to move.

To me, it all seemed useless. Especially the fact that he blinded me. What else was left for me to discover? I knew his name, I knew his face but most importantly, I knew the devil sheathed underneath that calm façade. Unless it was just for his pleasure, a game.

He lifted up his head towards the sky and closed his eyes while smirking happily at his achievements and the ruins that he has caused. "Do you smell that? It's like the smell of a new book, a new chapter, Roza." He turned towards me and looked me in the eye.

"A new game."

The rough and warm touch of his hand traced the lump of gulp as it slithered down my neck. He knew exactly what was going on in my mind because he planned it all beforehand and everything was going exactly as he wanted. I don't struggle or fight back because I know that it is useless. He has everything he needs to pull me down on my knees. I didn't want to admit it, but I was at awe by the accuracy of every decision he mastered and applied.

It's true that I don't struggle but that didn't make him give me the freedom to control my body. He had it all. Took it from me, made his own and ruled it. A huge part of the fear that consumed me most of the time was the inescapable future that lay ahead. Sooner or later it will come, I know it. He will force himself on me but that seems like the easy way and very much predictable

I might not know Dimitri very well but I knew enough to assume that every action of his is calculative and unpredictable. He will most possibly come up with a way to make me follow his demands and orders like he always says he would. All the doors will be closed for me then but hopefully, somewhere I will find a small hole to squeeze through towards freedom with Liza by my side.

The loud bang of the metal rod or stick made me jump with fear. I didn't want to look so helpless, but he wanted me to, and he succeeded. His hand slowly grazed my skin and descended my throat until it finally reached the thin strap of the lingerie on my shoulder. His thumb hooked underneath the strap and tugged at it yet not removing it off my shoulder. It made me realize the terrible trap I had fallen into. One strong tug and my chest would be completely bare to him for his eyes to devour. Yet he waited and teased like he always loves too.

Roza lets play.

****

Recommended listening to the YouTube video while reading.