Page 23 of Fighting Shadows
No one answers, but I can’t figure out where I am. My mind feels sluggish as I try to work out what’s going on. When I try to move, pain, like anything I’ve ever felt, travels over my lower half, and a chain rattles above me where my arm stretches.
“Hello?” I say again, louder this time, panic setting in as I try to figure out where I am.
A flash of orange hair flashes from the floor at the bottom of the bed as they sit up with a groan.
“That floor is uncomfortable,” the orange-haired man says, his eyes already on me.
They soften as they look at me, and I see no malice in them, but I’m alone and chained to a bed with a stranger in the same room.
Memories of the past assault my mind, and my chest tightens. A panic attack assaults me as black spots cloud my vision.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m chained to the bed just like you; I’m not able to get near you. Please breathe; I’m not good at dealing with this,” he rambles, waving his hand around toward me.
Trying my hardest to focus, I dart my gaze around the room, trying to take everything in, but nothing about how I got here is coming to me.
My eyes snag on the matching chain bracelet he has, the links indeed holding him in place at the bottom of the bed.
“Who are you?” I ask him when I finally manage to calm down.
“You'll be my roommate until I can figure out how to get us out of here,” he deadpans, but there’s no humor on his face, only determination.
“No, seriously, who are you? Why am I here? And why do I hurt so much? Where are my boyfriends?” I blurt out question after question, the panic I felt before returning.
“Breathe, Strange Girl. I’ll answer your questions. I don’t know where your boyfriends are, but you hurt because you have an infection on your thighs and in the crease of your legs from sitting in your excrement for days without washing or changing…” he pauses, taking a deep breath before locking his eyes on mine. As for the final two, I’m Noah; I’m Charlie’s son.”
“No. Charlie doesn’t have a son, and if he did, he wouldn’t be as old as you are,” I deny vehemently.
Charlie can’t be the one that is here; I can’t survive him again.
“I hate to break it to you, but he does have a son. My mum ran with me to Ireland when I was like a year old to get away fromhim,” he tells me, and now that he mentions it, I can hear a slight Irish accent in his voice.
“Then why are you here now?”
“Came back here a few years ago now. My mum missed her family, and I wanted to be a doctor. I came here, to our wonderful new jail cell because mydadcalled me and asked me to help the woman he was in love with…” he sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose, “if I had known said woman was eighteen, on the precipice of death and fucking kidnapped I would have brought the police and an ambulance with me.”
“Do you know how I got here? The last thing I remember is being in my friend Ellie’s car to go shopping.”
“No, sorry. I only found out about you twelve hours ago. Charlie should be back soon, hopefully with food.”
The sound of footsteps creaking against floorboards has me freezing as if saying his name has summoned him.
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Noah exclaims, earning a glare from my worst nightmare.
Charlie drops the food at the foot of the bed and rushes over to my side when he sees that I’m awake.
“You’re awake,” he says, his voice filled with relief.
I try to jerk out of his hold, the chains rattling with the force of trying to get away from him.
“Don’t,” I beg, “Please don’t touch me.”
“Shh, Little one. You know I won’t hurt you.”
“All you’ve ever done is hurt me,” I say, regretting the moment the words leave my mouth when his eyes flare with anger.
“Dad, I need a toilet. Can I go?” Noah interrupts whatever is going to leave Charlie’s lips.
Charlie whirls around to face Noah, his fists clenching as he debates what he’ll do with us both.
