ALLANA,
He arrives and grabs me, pulling my body against his, and I'm terrified that he might want to hurt me again, his touch chilling me to the core as the memories of that night flood my mind, causing me to start weeping in desperation because the pain was intense, and I dread a repeat of such agony.
He looks down at me, his breathing labored, and I can feel the rapid thudding of his heart against my chest, so fierce it seems it could burst out at any moment.
He lays me down on the bed, positioning himself on top, as I begin to sob harder and plead for him not to do this, not again, repulsed by his touch, feeling my skin crawl, refusing to become his plaything once more; I have to escape before I'm consumed by his desires.
I struggle beneath him, a futile gesture given his greater weight, but it's a fight I cannot surrender if I am to prevent another violation.
Lust brims in his eyes; he's intent on claiming me once more, his lips grazing mine, fuelling my fear even further, but my resolve is firm, and my pleas, this time, make him back off, exiting the room in a huff without a backward glance.
I rush up and bolt the bedroom door, collapsing to the floor in relief, tears streaming down my cheeks – nearly forced again, almost reduced to another doll purely for his pleasure, that's all I seem to be to him, nothing but an object of enjoyment.
Although he's made me his wife, that's how I feel.
Today he refrained, but how long can I keep fend him off? I must flee this cursed home soon, but first, I need to check on my friends; they must be frantic with worry.
I decide I must leave as soon as tonight – I cannot risk another ordeal like before.
I change into fresh clothes and go downstairs, noticing his absence from the dining area, albeit the meal is served.
Cautiously, I move through the house and upon reaching the study, find it empty too.
Out in the garage, his car – the one he brought me in, is also gone; he must have left. An opportunity presents itself – I'll concoct a story and slip past security undetected.
With him away, I hastily dress in jeans and a shirt and make my escape, urgency dictating my actions before he returns.
At the gate, security halts me.
"Where's the driver? I need to go to the pharmacy, I have cramps and we're out of my medicine."
They simply stare in silence.
"Fine, I’ll call my husband, complain about the pain and how you refused to let me out – prepare for unemployment."
One points to where the driver is. Great, an elderly man – if I elude him and he gets hurt?
No, I can't sympathize – compassion got me trapped here. I approach him, feigning agony, convincing enough for him to believe me and open the car door.
Seated in the back, I wear an internal smile – so far, it's been easy, and we drive past the gate as I breathe deep the scent of freedom, not glancing back, not even to bid farewell to that accursed house.
At the pharmacy stop, he moves to exit the car with me – I can't allow this or lose the chance to seek assistance.
"No need to get out, I’ll be quick, I promise. Wait for me here."
He shakes his finger, indicating no, and gestures apologetically with his hand on his chest. Blast it – he mustn't accompany me if I'm to make my getaway unnoticed and escape his employer's grasp.
"Then wait outside the car. It's embarrassing to enter with an employee."
His sad look tightens my chest, I've never treated anyone poorly before, but I can't have him with me. Head bowed, he steps out.
I enter the pharmacy, seeing him leaned against the car. My guilt over speaking so harshly is palpable, making me feel monstrous.
But it's the only way to reclaim my life – not even he can save me from those he serves, and I refuse to be reduced to a mere sexual object. I rush to the attendant for help.
"Please, can you help me? I'm mute, and a man has kidnapped me. I need to escape. Is there an emergency exit?"
His shock is evident, but he nods and leads me to the back where the emergency door is located. Expressing my thanks, I dash out and across the street, needing to reach Marcelo and Bia, who are surely worried about my absence.
But I can't stay with them; my husband's potential backlash is unknown. I make it to the traffic light where I used to sell candy and head directly for their shelter, which they're setting up as night falls.
Seeing me, Bia rushes over with a hug. She signs for details, and I recount everything, from the moment I rescued the very devil to my escape.
They urge me to spend the night and leave at dawn.
I nod, lying down next to Noah, drifting off to his soothing scent. I wake before daylight, kiss Noah's forehead, and as I leave, Marcelo offers money.
"No, Marcelo, keep it, I'll manage."
But he insists, placing the money in my hand. I hug him goodbye then head off in the opposite direction from the traffic light.
Near a park, men are doing drugs on the other side; my stomach growls. There's a hot dog cart near them.
I make my purchase and as the vendor finishes, I feel a sudden grip on my arm.
Turning, one of the men who had been sitting is angrily speaking at me. Frozen by fear, I make out nothing.
I jerk away and he roughly pulls me toward him, dragging me as I scream for help, to no avail. Biting his hand hard, he releases me and I flee only to collide with a mountain of muscle, sending me falling squarely on the ground.
Looking up, guess who I find?
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