Once the hot water started to make me feel stuffy, I shut off the water and slowly peaked around the curtain again just to be sure I was still alone. I reach out and pull the towel into the shower and start drying myself off. The towel is thin and rough, but who am I to complain. It’s not like I’m staying at a hotel. I smile to myself. Years of isolation have given me a strange sense of humor. Once I am dry enough, I step out of the shower and reach for the clothes. There’s a tee shirt and dark green sweater and sweatpants. This will do. Pulling these on, I look into the mirror again, but it has fogged up. I ring my hair out with the towel as much as I can. I then turn off the light and knock on the door quietly and hurry to sit back down on the toilet lid to wait for Bugsy to open the door.
A minute later, Bugsy announces that he is going to open the door. Light breaches the bathroom and I look through my brows to get a glimpse of him entering. As he walks over to me, he lets me know he’s going to pick me up again and I nod to acknowledge. He carries me back through the dim hallway and back into my prison. He closes the door behind him with his shoulder and walks me over to the bed. Laying me down, I immediately notice that my head is now laying on a pillow. Bugsy sits down in the chair that is still next to the bed. With the door closed the room is too dark to see any details of the room.
“Did the shower feel nice?” Bugsy asks.
I nod my head slightly, but quickly realize he probably can’t see it.
“Mhm.” I murmur quietly.
“That’s good. Well try and get some sleep, it’s late.”
“Ok.” I whisper.
Is he going to stay next to me all night? Is he going to sleep in the chair again? There’s a part of me that feels glad that he’s with me. But also, slight guilt that he must sleep in a chair.
I’m laying on my back. The warmer clothes and the pillow under my head are comforting, and I start to feel drowsy. But before long, the sweater and sweatpants aren’t enough to keep the heat of the shower in and I start to shiver. My wet hair feels almost icy on my skin. I guess my shivers were audible because shortly after I started shivering Bugsy gasps softly,
“Are you cold?”
I don’t have time to answer before I see his silhouette stand from the chair.
“Sorry, hang on, I’ll be right back.” He says reassuringly.
Five minutes pass before I see the door crack open and some light flood in. I turn my head from the door and shut my eyes as Bugsy reenters holding what must be a blanket or two scrunched up in his arms. He comes over to the side of the bed, and I can feel the gentle wind from him shaking out the blankets to their full size.
“I couldn’t find much, but this will be better than nothing I suppose.” He says as he drapes the blanket over me. The weight of them is comforting. Bugsy sits back down in his chair.
“That better?” He asks.
“Yes.” I whisper.
It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but Bugsy seems to shift in his chair. Almost like he had more to say. He clears his throat but stays quiet. I don’t understand him.
After several minutes, I mustered the courage to move. I turn onto my side away from him, hoping the movement doesn’t alarm him. He stays quiet. This is kind of awkward. With the shower and the comfortable bedding, I start to feel like I am back home. Like everything’s okay again and that I can fully relax. I don’t know how much time passed before I fell asleep, suddenly I was waking up. The room was slightly brighter with daylight peeking through around the blackout curtains. Moving slowly, I turn my head to see if Bugsy is still there.
Finding the chair empty, I turned and sat upright in the bed. I look around and see the still empty room. I get up and walk around the room. I check under the bed and in the closet. Nothing. Completely empty. I walk over to the door and put my ear up to it and listen. Nothing. I slowly try the doorknob. Still locked. I step over to the window and peak out the curtains. My eyes strain as the light of the day hurts my eyes. All I can see is a very plain looking backyard. There’s just grass extending over relatively flat land with a sparce tree line outlining the property. I’m definitely in a basement as I am on the ground floor, and I can see a deck overhang above the window.
I push the curtains back into place. What should I do? I stretch my legs and back, which are still sore from being cooped up in here. There’s no way to tell the time and I start to feel anxious about when Bugsy is coming back. Hopefully Bugsy is coming back and not someone else. I walk back over and sit on the edge of the bed not knowing what to do with my body. Feeling awkward I lay back down to wait for whatever comes next.
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