As I woke, I felt strangely rested. Suddenly I realized that my arms weren’t bound anymore. I felt relief in my wrists and shoulders. What’s happening? Am I still in the same location? Did they move me while I was unconscious? Not wanting to alert anyone that I was awake, I was careful not to move. Letting my eye lids open just a crack, I see that I am still in a dark room. It seems like it’s the same place. But why am I no longer tied up? I am starting to feel nervous. I don’t hear anyone walking upstairs. I can’t hear anything…
Trying to take in the dark surroundings, yep, this is the same empty room. Scanning my eyes over the room, my brain starts trying to cultivate an escape plan. Then as I look over directly to my left my heart drops and my eyes instinctively shut. Bugsy is sitting in a chair right next to the bed. His head was propped up in his hand. Maybe he’s asleep? Why would he untie me and then fall asleep? I focus on my beathing as I feel my nerves rise. I could sneak out of here if he’s asleep. But what if the door locks from the inside? I don’t think I could pick pocket him successfully. If I do make it out, what if there are other people upstairs. I have no idea how many people are here. Even if I could make it out of the house, where am I? Is it nighttime? I will need the cover of darkness for sure. How far would I have to go to find a safe space. Should I take supplies from the house? Can I find a backpack to hold what I need?
As my mind races through all the options and scenarios, Bugsy shifts in his chair, and I hear a soft grunt. My mind goes still, and I try to keep my body relaxed. I hear him shift again. He’s definitely awake now. What is he doing? I desperately want to open my eyes, but I don’t want him to know I am awake. I focus on keeping my breathing steady, but it’s hard with my heart racing.
“Hey…um…” Bugsy whispers as his hand presses into the bed close to my shoulder. I can’t help my reflexes as my body flinches away from him. “Oh..no. I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you. I- Iwas just wondering if you were awake yet. It’s been nearly 24 hours and…” He stammers as he pulls his hand away and I feel the bed fill in where his hand was. Why is he acting like this? “You must be thirsty right? Would you like some water?” He asks politely as if I wasn’t being held against my will. He asks as if I were I person too.
There’s a long pause as I don’t answer. I am really thirsty. I feel the sticky dryness of my mouth. He’s the one arguing to keep me ‘healthy’. After weighing my options, I slowly tilt my head up and then down. Remembering that I’m no longer bound I suddenly feel awkward. I want to flee. There’s no chance I could overpower him. Not like this. It is not worth the risk. My eyes open slightly, I see him stand up from the chair and pick something up from the floor. A minute goes by of silence. He almost seems uncomfortable, not knowing how to approach me.
“So, um…if you sit up a little that will make drinking a lot easier.” Bugsy says timidly. Why is he acting like this? What is he unsure about? I slowly lean onto my elbows, my eyes still low. “Here, I have some water here.” Without moving my head, I flick my eyes to glance at his outstretched hand and see the same bottle as before that was drugged. “Don’t worry, this one is just water.” Bugsy says like he could read my hesitation. He leans onto the bed with his free arm and hold the bottle up to my mouth. I hesitate a second, and lean my head forward, parting my dry lips. He tilts the bottle slowly and gently, unlike his partner from before, Jett. I feel his eyes drilling into the top of my head. Insecurity warms my cheeks; this kindness is unusual.
I take several mouthfuls. It feels cool on my throat, and I get thirstier each swallow. I inhale through my nose and Bugsy lowers the bottle away from my mouth. I almost look up to him, but I catch myself and lower back down onto my back. This feels strange. I want to ask him what is going on but it’s hard to find my voice, I am now used to being met with aggression. I try to suppress the optimistic thoughts in my mind that he’s different. No, I can’t take that chance. I cannot trust him. Remembering my arms are free, I gently feel my waistband for the pocket I sowed in there. It’s still there! They didn’t find it! Some relief floods through me. It would be devastating if I lost it. Feeling a little confident I reach into the pocket and pull its contents outs and hold it in my fist. Fortunately, it is dark enough in here, I don’t think he noticed the movement.
“I’m sure you are hungry too.” He says as he sits back down onto his chair. “I don’t have any food right now, but I will get us some soon, ok?” I don’t answer. I am concentrating on the shape in my palm. What does he expect me to say? It’s quiet for a while and it feels strange sitting here in the dark like this. I feel tension between us as if both of us are waiting on the other to make a move or say something. Maybe after he gives me food, I can make my escape. If I do get out of here, it will be better to not be starved. More time of silence passes, and my mind begins to wonder. I think of my camp and how much food I had managed to stash. Granola bars, crackers, some soda cans. I even had bread and some cheese that I was looking forward to eating when I got back. When I got back. I was doing a routine trip for supplies. Something I had done countless times before. Little did I know I’d never make it back. I was really looking forward to that bread and cheese.
Eventually I hear Bugsy’s breathing get very deep and slow. Looking out of the corner of my eyes, I see he’s fallen asleep with his head in his hand again. I fully open my eyes and turn my head to look fully at him. It’s dark, so it’s hard to make out distinct features, but I can see he’s well built and the forearm and hand that his heads rests on are large. His face is shadowed with dark facial hair and his head has thick wavy dark hair on top. His eyebrows thick covering small eyes. His sleeping face looks very kind and warm. Yet, he looks tired. But not the kind of tired that gets remedied by sleep. I imagine that’s the kind of tired that I am. Tired of years of fighting. Years of mental strain and stress. I sit up onto my elbows again to see his whole body. He’s wearing a worn t-shirt and jeans with dark sneakers.
Looking around the room I try and think of what to do. Quietly, I make my way to the edge of the bed. All I am wearing is lightweight pants a worn tee-shirt and converse that are so old there are wholes in the soles. I feel gross as it’s been days since I’ve bathed. My hair long and stringy, I feel dirt caked all over me. I am a mess. Standing up, I feel physically unharmed, just hungry. I replace my treasure into the pocket I sowed into my waistband for safe keeping. I creep over to where Bugsy is sitting. Reaching down, I pick up the water bottle and drink what is left in there replace it and move away from him quickly. I go up to the door and listen. I try the door. Damn, it is locked. I look back towards Bugsy. I need to get the key.
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