You don’t know how long you've been here. You've lost track of time a while ago. You think it’s been a few months now. Without outside light, it’s difficult to know when a day ends and a new one begins. Everything just blurs together.
The first day you where here you remember that the people who brought you here were all older men, you think that there were seven of them. None were younger than 40 you guess. But they all id the same thing to you. Things that no one should ever have done to them, no matter what. You were raped and beaten the first several days, you know that much. But it soon became less and less, to where now its seldom that they even acknowledge you. Occasionally some person will come in and feed you, but even then it’s not a lot of food. You wonder why they even keep you anymore.
You hear some footsteps outside the door and you wait for the person to come through the door. When the person enters you realize that it’s not someone you’re used to seeing. This time it’s a younger man and this makes you more nervous. Younger men have come and gone and they were always the worst, to the point that it would take a long time for you to recover.
This man however was different, you noticed. He didn't have that same look in his eyes as everyone else did. You are relieved about that. Maybe he will save you. You hope that he does. He looks over at you and you can see a shocked look on his face. And then it’s angry. You begin to panic as he makes his way to you. When he notices this he stops, wearing a pained expression.Why would he be in pain?
“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m just here to help you.” he says to you. “Can I please come closer to help you?”
His voice sounds nice, you think. You try to answer him back but it’s been so long since you've actually spoken and not screamed, that it hurts you too much. You struggle some more before you give up and just nod you head yes.
He moves towards you again but slower this time. You want to ask him how he got here. And how he got passed all those men. When he reaches you he first unties you wrists and he sees all the cuts and scars that are there. When he reaches down for your ankles he is more gentle untying them. Compared to your ankles and legs, the cuts on your wrists look more like paper-cuts.
“Can you walk?” He asks.
You wonder that yourself actually. Can you still walk? You try to stand but the moment you put weight on you feet you fall down and cry out in pain. That answers that question. You look up at him and worry that he would be mad at you and leave you. But when you see him bend over to pick you up, you’re surprised. He’s still going to save you.
“He’s so light…” you hear him whisper to himself.
Of course I am. I was hardly ever given food, you want to yell at him. Instead you just stare at him.