Amapola

Unlike I had expected, I managed to sleep, though not for as long as my body truly needed.

Before the sun took over the sky with its vibrant light, I was already awake, standing at the window, admiring the vast garden that, as I thought, was even more fantastic during the day.

I didn’t know what to do, whether I should go out or remain locked in, but I chose the latter. In the end, I understood that only my place of imprisonment had changed. I was still a prisoner of Salvatore Dalla Costa, the difference being that my captivity now came with a luxury I never imagined experiencing.

Lying on the soft bed, I relived the torment of the previous night over and over again, and I cried out of sadness for having gone through something so terrible. No matter how many times I bathed, washed my entire body—more than once even—the smell of alcohol from Martin lingered on me. Not to mention the blood, I could feel every drop trickle over my body, and the sensation of the warm liquid practically burning my skin would never leave me, no matter how hard I tried.

In these moments when anguish and fear consumed me, the only comfort I had was the memory of my savior's face. The monster who imprisoned me had saved my life, and when the smell of alcohol and death took hold of me, it was in the clothes I wore, infused with his scent, that I sought comfort. And, impressively, it calmed me down.

Yesterday, while I was in the casino, I realized it had been about fifteen days since I had been under his control and without my freedom. I had completely lost track of time, but now I knew.

Perhaps because of that, for having spent so much time locked up, without any contact with the outside world, without the freedom to do what I wanted, I had grown accustomed. Being in this comfortable room was not a hardship, although what I wanted most was to see my father.

ngela brought me a huge breakfast tray, and I thanked her for it. There were so many delicious things that I didn’t know where to start, and when I started eating more than my body needed, I remembered my father. Was he as well-fed as I was? I almost stopped eating, but I couldn’t bear to waste even a crumb of bread. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have another meal like that again, so I chose to enjoy it.

I spent the rest of the morning between the window and the bed. When the memories hit me hard, I’d rush to the window, trying to distract myself with the birds or flowers, even the swaying of the treetops, enjoying the freedom the wind gave them. Only when I got tired of standing did I return to the bed.

Alone, I heard a knock on the door and assumed it was ngela, but I was wrong. I watched as the most handsome man my eyes had ever seen walked into the room.

He looked different. He wasn’t wearing the charming three-piece suit I was used to seeing him in, but instead, dark jeans, a navy-blue shirt, and sneakers. His beauty was striking. I dare say he’d look good in anything, even naked, perhaps that would be the best outfit for his body. I don’t know where these thoughts come from sometimes, it’s not the first time I’ve thought of him this way, but he was the first man to make me think like this.

All the enchantment I might feel for him vanishes the moment he opens his mouth. I know my position here, I know I owe him submission, or as he’s made clear, he can take my life whenever he wants—or worse, he could take my father’s life.

But there’s something about him that keeps me from staying silent. Suddenly, I have the urge to attack him again, just like I did when he kept me in his other prison, but I knew he would never allow that now, so all I could do was confront him.

Yes, I was his prisoner. I knew he could kill me, but I wasn’t going to let him demand even more from me.

I could be grateful that he saved me from being raped, but I wouldn’t say that aloud—never. Instead, I told him what he needed to hear: that everything I went through was his fault, and I wasn’t lying.

He got angry—no, furious, I knew it, especially because I was defying his orders. But I couldn’t act any other way. How could I sit at the table with him as if nothing was happening? As if I were here of my own free will and not because I was his prisoner? I couldn’t, and I made that clear to him.

He left, slamming the door, declaring that if I didn’t have lunch with him, I wouldn’t have lunch at all. Well, he could keep his plate of food. I wasn’t going, period. I was grateful that ngela had brought me a good breakfast. It would be enough for me—I was already used to going without, so I’d handle missing lunch just fine.

I started thinking about ways to get out of here. What if I could climb out the window, sneaking along the edges where I might not be seen? Maybe I could gain my freedom. That was it!

But as soon as I swung my first leg over the windowsill, the door opened. My heart almost stopped in fear, and I nearly threw myself out then and there. That wouldn’t have been smart; if I tried calmly, I might be able to climb down safely, using the wall’s ridges for support. Jumping all at once definitely wasn’t a good option.

I was thankful it wasn’t the demon who entered the room, but ngela instead. I didn’t miss the disapproving look she gave me, and in her hands, she carried a tray—probably another delicious meal.

“Come here, girl,” the woman said, closing the door behind her. Like a cornered mouse, I slowly removed my leg from the spot where I had started my escape attempt and returned to the room, walking towards her.

“Are you going to tell him?” I asked, dreading her answer.

“No, dear. I won’t. Even though it’s what I should do, I won’t tell,” she informed me, holding my hand and guiding me to the bed. When I sat down, she sat beside me.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” she began. “Not even for the advice I’m about to give you now.” I nodded. Listening to her was the least I could do. Since I arrived here, she had tried to comfort me as much as she could, so I stayed silent, allowing her to speak.

“What you’re thinking of doing isn’t a very smart idea. And knowing this place like the back of my hand, I can already tell you that you won’t succeed, my love, so that’s not the path you should take. Trust me.”

“And what is the path? I can’t see anything else,” I said, tears welling up in my heart.

“Maybe you’re not looking with the right eyes, my angel. Sometimes, we need to open the eyes of our soul. It’s through the heart that we need to see things.”

“I don’t understand,” I sighed.

“But you will, I’m sure you will, because I saw it from the moment you first stepped into this house,” she said. And truly, no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t understand what she meant by those words.

“Are you also a prisoner here?” I brought my hand to my mouth, shocked by what I had just said. I didn’t know if she was even aware of my condition in this house.

“Don’t worry, I know, child,” she reassured me. “And no, I’m not a prisoner here.”

“Then you could help me get out,” I practically begged.

“I can help you in many ways while you’re here, my angel. I promise you that under this roof, no harm will come to you. But with the request you just made, unfortunately, I can’t help. If you leave through the gates of the complex, there’s nothing more I’ll be able to do.”

“But I need to see my father,” I explained.

“In time, I’m sure everything will be resolved. You just need to have patience, faith, and try to see with the eyes of your soul, child. When you do that, everything will work out, I promise.”

She spoke and then got up, leaving me alone in my captivity.