I’m woken up by a shrill beeping that scares me half to death. Shooting up from the floor, I see a small digital clock that had been sitting on the nightstand. It read ‘6:00 am.’ “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Through my tired haze, I realize that my body doesn’t hurt as much as it did the day before and that I can stand, mostly, on my own. I take a step towards the beeping device and find that I can walk too, albeit with a limp. Picking up the clock, I start searching it for any button that’ll make it stop.

Staring at the top for what felt like way too long, I finally think I’ve figured it out. Pushing in the button, the beeping stops and I finally have a sweet release. Crouching back down to the floor, I begin to lay myself out once again when the door flies open. I hear Luke’s fancy shoes tapping against the wood. “Good morning, Charlie! I told you it’d be bright and early. And what’re you doing on the floor?” He walks around to stand in front of my laying body. His shoes are a pristine black, shiny enough to see my reflection. He’s wearing pinstripe, dark grey dress pants and a vest to match it. Underneath, he has a white button up with a light blue tie around his neck. “I figured if I’m going to be training you in the ways of a butler I should dress like one myself. How do I look?” He turns his back to me and looks down over his shoulder with an expectant look.

“You look like a jackass.” I roll over to my right side.

“Oh, Charlie… I see we have a long way to go. A good butler shouldn’t speak to his master that way.” I can somehow hear his smug grin through his voice.

“Guess I’m gonna be a shit butler then.”

He steps over me and crouches down to look into my eyes. “One step at a time, dear friend. I don’t want to rush you. But first, let’s get you cleaned up! You’ve no doubt been without a bath for quite a while. My personal barber should be here in about half an hour to tame that wild hair and get rid of that terribly patchy beard. Now, let’s get you to the shower!” He starts to reach towards me before I roll back over and away from him.

“I ain’t doing shit.” Right after the words leave my mouth, a flow of electricity surges through me for just an instant. “Ah!”

“Believe me, Charlie, I really don’t want to do this to you but I’m not afraid to. Act up and I’ll be forced to give you a shock.” I slide my arms underneath me and begin to push myself to my feet. Standing at a slant and gripping my aching side, I look at him with a glare that says every bad thought I could muster. “Please, I’m just trying to help. Now, come. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He steps to the side and gestures towards the door. “After you.”

I stand and stare at him for a moment longer before, reluctantly, limping towards the exit. As I step out, I consider trying to make a run for it but my planning is stopped as I feel Luke’s hand press my shoulder as his voice sounds eerily close. “I’m sure a nice warm shower will feel wonderful after all this time.” He guides me to the bathroom once again and I step into the pristine white room. He already has a towel waiting by the sink and the hot water running.

He steps in behind me and shuts the door. I immediately look at him in shocked anger again. “Get the fuck out! You’re not gonna be in here while I’m taking a shower, dude.”

His cheeks start to change color once more. “I just wanted to make sure you’d be OK on the slick tile. You can barely stand as it is! What if you slipped and hit your head?”

I walk over to the door and open it. “I’ll be fine. Leave.” He looks away from me sheepishly and exits. I hardly wait for his feet to be out the door to slam it shut and lock him out. “Fucking weirdo. Why did it have to be me?” I start to pull of my clothes, pausing as my bruises and cuts demand. When I’m finally bare, I open the shower and reach my hand in. The steaming water burns for a second as I recoil in shock. As I keep trying to touch it, I slowly get used to the feeling and hesitantly step in. Three bottles sit on a small tray like thing sticking out from the wall: shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Straight forward enough. Hanging in front of me is something I haven’t used before. A ball made of net is hanging under the shower head with it’s sheets waving around each other in a strange design.

Luke calls in from outside the door. “Are you alright in there?”

Rolling my eyes I yell over the cascading water. “What the hell is this net thing?” He calls back that it’s called a loofa and I’m supposed to put the body wash on it. One bottle after the other, I spend the time washing the dirt, sweat, blood, and stress off of my body. When it comes time for the loofa, I can feel it scrubbing away at the caked on layers of time that have collected on me. The bandages from the doctor have gotten so wet that they begin to fall off despite my efforts to make them stick. I eventually accept their fate and simply soak in the heat of the water, letting it flow over my head and shoulders. The scars from my past all feel miles away.

But like all good things, the shower had to end. My hand hovers over the handle for several seconds before I finally turn it back to its off position. Stepping out of the shower I walk over to the towel that had been left for me. Carefully avoiding the stitched wounds, I dry myself off and slide back on my underwear and jeans. Realizing I should bandage up my cuts again, I walk to the door and open it enough to peek my head out. “Luke!”

“Yeah?” I look down to see him sitting just outside the door on his phone.

“Have you been here the whole time?” I stare at him, agitated.

“Yes.” He looks innocent, like what he was doing wasn’t in the slightest bit creepy.

“Whatever, where do you keep medical stuff? I need to put some new ones on.”

He smiles up at me and starts to stand with newfound excitement. “Oh! Yes, they’re just under the sink. I’ll show you.” He walks towards me and I reach a hand out to stop him.

“No, I’ve got it. Thank you.” I close the door on him again and let out a sigh of frustration. He sure is dedicated. Heading to the sink, I open the cabinet doors to find a wide variety of first aid supplies. I start to pull various things out that look vaguely similar to what I had on before, but looking at them all, I realize I have no clue what do with any of it. I raise my voice so Luke can hear me from outside. “Uh… I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want me to come help you?” He sounds too excited. I close my eyes and think for a minute. I really don’t want him in here but… I suppose I don’t have a choice. Even if he walked me through it, I don’t know what’s what.

“... Yeah, I guess.” Almost immediately, Luke comes in with a radiant grin. I’m embarrassed that I need him and his excitement over being needed is only making it worse.

He steps over to me and begins grabbing the supplies. “Stand still, alright? This might hurt a little.” He pours a bit of liquid onto a cotton ball and dabs at my cuts. I hiss in pain and grit my teeth at the stinging feeling. “You’re alright. That part is over. Now we just have to put the bandages on.” He grabs a piece the white bandaging and places it over the cut on the left side of my stomach. He looks up to me with a sincere expression. “Hold on to this for me.” I put my hands on either side to try and hold it still. He reaches down and grabs a roll of, what looks like, tape and begins applying it. As his hands slide carefully down my body, I can’t help but wince despite his gentle touch. He must’ve seen me because he tries to finish the side he was working on quickly before speaking up again. “Are you okay? Am I hurting you too much?”

He seems genuinely worried for me. I put on a smile for the first time in the last two days. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.” I feel his hands glide across my skin while he finishes the rest of the bandage. After tearing the last piece off and securing it, he stands back up and looks down to the gash in my right shoulder.

“One more to go. You still holding up?” I nod and his eyes stare into mine with a gentle whisper of ‘everything will be alright.’ We repeat the process with is hands nearly massaging my shoulder. This time though, he spends most of the time staring at my face rather than the task at hand. “And now your arm.” He takes hold of my right arm and raises it towards him. Using one hand, he holds it still as the other hand wraps gauze over the cut. He continues to hold it for a moment, staring into my eyes. “All done.” I pull my arm back and step away from him.

“T-thanks.” I bend down to grab my shirt, but as I start to stand I feel a hand grab my forearm from behind. As I look behind me, Luke has opted to stop me by bending over me from behind leaving his chest inches from my back. He speaks softly into my ear. “Oh, don’t put on those dirty clothes. I’ve got you some new things. Strip back down and I’ll pass them to you through the door.” Luke places his hand on my back and traces one of the many old cuts in my skin. He lets go of my arm and straightens up before walking back out of the room. A minute later, the door cracks back open and he holds out a pile of clothes. “Just put those on and you’ll look like a whole new man!”

I grab the pile and strip once again. After putting on each piece, I realize the outfit looks almost identical to Luke’s with one exception, my tie is red rather than blue. As I look at myself in the mirror, it becomes more and more apparent that the tie is sitting around my neck… untied. Assuming that I’m not about to figure it out on my own, I call Luke in. “Hey, uh, I don’t know how to do this.” I point to the fabric dangling from my shoulders.

His laugh is genuine and fills the room with a joyous energy that actually lets me calm down, if only a little. He stands in front of me and grabs my shoulders. Turning me around for us to look in the mirror, he stretches his arms around me and grabs both ends of the tie. He steps in close, pressing his body to mine, and putting his face right next to me. I try to shuffle forwards but he pushes me back into him. “It’s not too hard. Just watch my hands closely.” He walks me through the process step by step, looking into my eyes through the mirror. When he finishes, he turns his head to look at me. “You got it?”

“Yeah, I think so… And you can let go now.” My cheeks are burning. He laughs and ruffles my hair as he backs off and gives me some breathing room. Just then, the doorbell rings.

“That’s him! Wait here and we’ll be right up to get this hair under control.” He leaves me again. He’s gone for a couple of minutes and I can hear the two talking loudly in some other language. Their voices grow louder until I see the door push open and Luke walk in with a wooden chair and a portly, bald man with a bushy, grey moustache. The two continue their conversation uninterrupted and laugh enthusiastically at a joke that I can’t help but feel is at my expense. Luke sets the chair down in front of the mirror and his friend stands behind it. The man gestures for me to come sit.

I look at both of them hesitantly before complying. The large stranger places his hands on my shoulders and looks at me in the mirror. He says something in whatever language he’d been speaking and gives me a big smile. I look to Luke, confused and a bit worried. Luke looks at me like I’m a lost child. “He says not to worry. You’re in good hands.” I look forward and stare blankly at myself as the barber opens a drawer under the sink and starts pulling out scissors, clippers, combs, and other supplies.

A few moments later, he returns to his place behind me and wraps a smock around my neck. Turning on the clippers, he tilts my head down and I feel the buzzing slide up my neck. Chunk after chunk, I see clumps of brown fall to floor beneath me. My eyes start to sting at the sight. As the piles increase in number, I can’t hold back the tears.

I sit in silence as he works on my hair and shaves my face. When it’s all finished, I look into the mirror at a different person. A short haired, cleaned face man stares back at me. Luke steps up and places his face by mine, meeting my eyes in the reflection. “See, I knew there was a handsome man under all that hair.” I begin to tear up again. This is really it, the end of my old life… I’m trapped.