Chapter 14— Fear.

Deven's POV:

One year ago, at 8:14 p.m:

I plaster another forged smile on my face as I walk around in this penitentiary; I mean, club.

Wouldn't want Mrs. Bulgarie to hear about my 'ungratefulness.'

I walk toward the bar and grab the drinks that are requested by the customers.

As I hand over the last drink on the tray to the last person who ordered, I catch Mrs. Bulgarie walking out of her office.

She raises her, unfortunately, pretty hand fan to cover the bottom half of her face.

"Deven," she calls out, in her annoying shrill voice, as she stares at me.

Her voice and her stare cause the other workers and non-workers to turn to me.

I look up at her and make the mistake of looking into her eyes even for the slightest second.

Because for that slight second, I see mischief and something else that makes me want to flee and never look back.

It screams DANGER.

My breath seizes as she opens her mouth to speak.

"My office," she says in a sickening and threatening sweet voice.

"Please," she adds as she narrows her eyes to a slit. Her 'please' doesn't sound anywhere near polite.

My throat suddenly becomes dry as I nod once.

What did I just get into?

I look around me and give the customers, who are still staring at me, a shaky smile and walk away.

I walk toward the bar and place the tray on the counter as one of my colleagues behind the counter mouths 'Good luck.'

I give her a tightlipped smile and nod once.

I walk toward her office and ponder what it is she could, possibly, want with me.

Have I done anything wrong? Did I forget to do something she told me to?

The last time she called my attention to something, she...

No! Please no! Not again!

She didn't call him here! She wouldn't call him here! She couldn't call him here! I mean she could but...

No! I'm overthinking. Overanalyzing. That's what I'm doing. Yeah.

I place my hand on my racing heart and try to control my breathing.

Please don't let him be here. Please don't let him be here.

I chant as I place my hand on the doorknob and begin to open it.

I sound like a kid who doesn't want to get caught by their parent. I feel like one. I feel fear.

I'm scared becomes my new chant as I finally open the door.

Never mind. My chant has gone back to 'please don't be here.'

No, it's a mix.

Please don't be here. I'm scared. Please don't be here. I'm scared. Please don't be here I'm scared.

I exhale. It doesn't help.

I walk into her office with my jelly-like legs and stand by the door in case of any needed escape.

She looks up slowly like a predator. She is a predator. One that I would love to get away from now.

"Have you forgotten your manners, Deven? Not knocking," she says almost as if she's experiencing a sense of humor.

"Or acknowledging the other person in this room," she states matter-of-factly as her head directs my gaze to this other person.

No-

Silence. Silence feels me. My ears are ringing. My hands are shaking. My throat is uncontrollably itching but no matter how much I scratch it, the itch won't go away. My silence is ironically screaming 'RUN' with every bit of fear attached to it.

I fall back in my step.

"Maybe I should send you 'there'" Mrs. Bulgarie comments.

My mind doesn't even begin to register the threat that Mrs. Bulgarie just threw my way because there's an even bigger menace in front of me.

He's here.

"No," I breathe out as I shake my head.

He's nodding 'yes.'

"Hey, sweetheart."

"No. No. No," I continuously say as I shake my head no.

"I'll leave you two alone," I hear Mrs. Bulgarie say as she begins to leave the room.

My head snaps toward her once her words register in my brain.

Wait- no.

I hear him take a step toward me. I step back and hit the wall.

Maybe I shouldn't have stayed near the door.

Wait- the door I could escape.

I discreetly place my hand on the doorknob and try to open the door.

"Don't even think about it. There are guards out there who will bring you back in here. And that means I'll be even rougher."

"No. No," I whimper sadly as my heart slowly sinks to the bottomless pit of my stomach; my body slowly sinks to the floor.

"Help," I whimper quietly as he takes a long stride to me.

I try to crawl away from him but he pins me down.

No! No! Please no! Not again!

Every birthday! Why?

"Help."

I scream. I scream for help till my voice becomes sore. I scream till my screams fade to hoarse breathing.

And as always no one comes to my rescue. I never learn that no one will come to help me whenever I scream, so why do I keep screaming?

Narrator's POV:

At present time:

"Help!" she softly cries with her hands tied behind her and a rag gagging her while she's passed out.