Close your eyes

The sound of the engine woke me from my lethargy. My face sank into the soft and cold mattress. My nostrils were flooded with that smell of mold and humidity that I couldn't get used to. With the passage of days, I had stopped smelling the dirt on my clothes, on my skin, but that odious mattress still smelled like the first day. Just like when my hooded face kissed it for the first time.

You don't realize how powerful the senses are until you're deprived of one. I spent hours in darkness, and when I took off the hood, I closed my eyes tightly.

The sound of that slap still resonated in my head, a slap given with an open hand but with a force I had never felt on my skin. A dull buzzing that increased and drilled into my eardrum, piercing my brain. He picked me up from the floor immediately and felt my face to see if I had broken any bones. I complained, although he tried to be careful. The metallic smell and taste of blood flooded my mouth, and along with his distant voice, they began to overpower the pain.

* Close your eyes, damn it!
* I'm sorry. - I muttered.
* I told you to close your eyes. We had a deal.

It was true. I had failed to keep my part. The temptation to see his face had been too much for me. He lifted me up, and I could feel the strength of his muscles, the veins marked on his forearms, and the softness of his abundant hair.

He was different from his partner. He took care of me. At first, he only gave me food and collected the foul-smelling bucket where I did my business. With the days, he changed. He became kinder. He started tying my hands in front, despite his partner telling him that he should tie them behind my back and much tighter. The best moment of the day was when, after making sure his partner wasn't going to return, he would come in and untie me. The rough rope that eroded my hands loosened, and he caressed my wounds. He touched them slowly, while I felt my blood flowing back through them. His calloused, vast hands produced a pleasant pain in me. A tingling sensation that rose to my fingers. Sometimes he looked at them closely, savoring them, while feeling his warm breath that soothed my pain.

I don't remember how much time passed until I dared to ask him to give me a shower. I suppose it was a lot, because he didn't refuse. Time slips away when darkness and boredom flood you until you lose hope. You go from wanting to live to wanting to die. Until you don't want anything. You breathe, smell, eat, obey. There are no feelings except at specific moments. Like when you suddenly need a shower to feel like a human being.

He took me to the bathroom without saying a word. We never talked. Only the basics to give me some order. Sometimes he tried to change the tone of his voice, making it even graver, I suppose so I wouldn't recognize him. Other times he forgot, and I heard a masculine voice that didn't crack, my mother would surely say that he had a radio ann...