153 Whose Voice (1/2)

Have you ever felt your body imploding? Your body curls into itself to fill the voids. As you swim inside your head and try to embrace the darkness, you feel that small barrier—the one that divides your conscience from comfort. The hardest thing you have to do is let go and embrace it.

I tried.

I fought hard to recover from the darkness that paralyzed me. My mind had locked me in my own body and refused to let me go. It was one of the most terrifying moments in my life. The colors danced behind my lids as I tried to open them. I thought that I was dreaming, but they seemed so real. Battered and mutilated, every time a new scene came to mind, I poised to fight, but I could never move. In moments like that, I contemplated how frail my existence really was. It was a deep thought—one that I wasn't quite ready to face.

Eventually, I heard noises. Cracked voices whispered into my ears to get me to gain consciousness. I wondered if they were loving or urgent. I cooked romantic images in my mind as to how Michael would pick me up in his arms and nurse me to health.

The fear of what was to come after my heart stopped beating, pushed me to consider such stupid notions. Had it been any other day after that, I would have laughed humorlessly and killed the person who would make me think of such things.

Harsher words and curses followed. Things came into perspective as time pa.s.sed by. I could feel the cutting fabric of the rope digging into my wrists and ankles. I could feel the salty rag pressing up against my dry mouth. I could feel the pain radiating from my stomach and projecting outwards.

I tried to think of the last thing I remembered happening to me.

Images of my father's body flashed in my mind.

Fighting Anthony followed soon after.

His pleas for me to hold on confused me.

And I remembered the darkness as I tried to remove the feeling of warmth from my body.

I had never imagined that the scenario would change like that. Had he bound me up so that I won't be able to escape? A little paranoid part of me screamed at me to realize that everything that had been said to me or I had seen had been fabricated.

There had to be an explanation for everything.

Was I ready to face it?

Yes.

Yes, I was.

I forced my eyes to open. They weighed a thousand kilos. I tried to focus on the blurry shapes in front of me.

”The princess is finally awake!” I heard someone say. I knew that voice.

Focus, I hissed to myself.

I shook my head to gain some clarity. It somehow worked.

Aware of my surroundings, I looked around to find the room filled with men who were chatting among themselves. Fear crept into my veins and I tried harder to search for the face that I knew would comfort me.