“Get up” a woman said gruffly whilst taking in a strained breath. She walked into the cell with a key in her right hand. Whilst her other hand was resting on her hips. I didn’t dare stare her in the eye. I stood up quickly causing my head to spin a little. The consequences of dehydration and lack of food starting to take a toll on me. I focused on her sharp jaws as she unlocked the handcuff around my wrists.
Gripping my wrists I gently massage it. I can’t remember how long I’ve been in this cell. It’s been so long my wrists have turned a purple blue shade. I try to straighten out my clothes, out of habit and nervousness. Even though my clothes were beyond ever looking presentable.
following behind the lady, I didn’t say anything. Just watched her shoulders as I tried to keep up with her. After a few minutes of walking, and passing through doors she unlocked. The lady came to a sudden halt. She stood stiffly, unmoving in-front of an oak door. She didn’t move or say anything.
After a few seconds she opens the door gently maintaining her stoic and stiff stance.
She moved to the side of the door whilst gesturing me forward into the room. I didn’t hesitate and followed her orders. I looked back to see if she followed behind me but instead the door was shut in my face.
Not knowing what to do I stared back into the room. The layout was very modern and the colours of the furniture were all dark brown and black. In the centre of the room stood a coffee table with sofa’s around it. There was food laid out on the table. With a glass jug of water in the middle. I approached it with hesitation. Was it for me? Can I eat it?
My stomach growled whilst I continuously stare at the food. However much I wanted to eat the food, I couldn’t move to it any further. I cannot disobey orders. Even though I haven’t been given an order, I wasn’t explicitly told to eat either. Not knowing what to do I chose to stand there like a robot, whilst staring at the mouth watering food. I am too used to being given orders, taking self-initiative was not something I can do. Engraved in my life was strict order and discipline.
After what felt like a few minutes, the door on the other side of the room opened. My eyes instantly locked into the door as I was nervous of who would enter.
At first I saw his eyes. They were green. A serene and harmonious green. The type of green that brings people a sense of calm and tranquility. He moved straight ahead to sit on a chair behind a sleek black desk, I hadn’t noticed before.678Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVxe2QhdwUJ
another man accompanied him. Instantly I put my head down, cursing at myself for staring at the other mans eyes. I used to get in trouble for doing that. I mustn’t get in trouble. Not now. I must protect my body now at all cost.
“Would you like to take a seat and eat?” The second man said emotionlessly. I stared at the food and then back at his feet. I nodded my head once.
“Go on” he simply stated. I noticed a brown folder in his hand as I sat down.
Getting stuck-in instantly, I still maintained formal mannerisms that was taught to me at the centre. I can’t get punished. I must follow all social rules. I didn’t dare look up as the two men spoke in a different language.
I was so so immersed in my food that I almost missed a man in a long white coat walking in. Almost.
My body went rigid and stone cold. No. It became paralysed. All the years of trauma and abuse was starting to replay through my head. Breathing shallowly, I must act innocent and unsuspecting. They can’t know that I’m pregnant. If they know my child will endure a lifetime of chaos like I did.
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