89. Two Different People

Today, I woke up without an alarm.
Because I hardly slept.
The pillow beneath my face remains wet, soaked with all tears I shed throughout the night.
My eyes sting with every blink, and my body aches with every breath I take.
I have no motivation in me to get up, except that today I am going home.
After seven days of pure torture, degradation, mental and physical abuse, I can finally escape this living hell hole.
Reluctantly, I drag myself up.
The first ray of sunlight filters through the window and falls on me, yet couldn’t breach the darkness percolating within me.
I feel dead from inside.
No heartbeat, no pulse, not even a flicker of movement.
It’s all silent and destroyed, like the aftermath of a tornado.
With a sense of melancholy, I peel the black velvet dress that once draped me in a beauty beyond compare. And now, it is tainted with the worst memory that I ever experienced.
Stepping into the shower, cold water rushes down my body, pricking my skin, but from inside, I feel nothing.
The chill against my flesh couldn’t penetrate the numbness inside of me, as if I have cried myself dry, leaving nothing but a hollow used shell behind.
Today, I do not play with soap foam, or talk to the bottles, instead plainly stand still under the running water, until I could no longer bear the cold.
Walking out, I slip into the peach frock, the dress Dakota had given me as a reward for being his *personal* whore.
I grab the hidden sixty dollars from the brand new flip-flops, before wearing them and existing his walk-in-closet for the last time.
I reach for the plushie sloth toy, the one Dakota let me chose on our fun-arcade outing. I never had so much fun with him before, it almost felt like a date.
*But I guess, it was all in my head too.*
I leave the soft toy on the bed as the last tie to cut. I can’t bear to carry the weight of these memories with me.
Grabbing my phone, I give a final glance around, scanning the room one last time, ensuring not to leave anything behind, other than my dignity and those haunting moments.
I despise this room, this bed, everything which has witnessed my humiliation. No matter how luxurious the room is, it feels equal to a gruesome hell I never want to return ever.
I keep my head low while descending the stairs, unable to look at the paintings, as I myself feel more filthy than them.
The sound of my footsteps echoes through the living room as I enter. It is too quiet and empty down here.
It’s 8:21 AM, and Dakota is nowhere to be seen.
I glance around, expecting him to appear, but seconds convert into minutes, yet the silence remains constant.
Slowly, I remove the apple watch from my wrist and place it on the counter-top, where Dakota usually sat for breakfast right at 8:10 AM every day.
*Except today.*
Maybe he knew I would leave, maybe not, but it didn’t matter anymore.
*I am leaving.*
“Goodbye, Eve.” A sad whisper comes out of me as I hold the handle.
I hesitate at the door, unsure why.
The overwhelming silence fills my ears and I can hear the mournful rhythm of my heart, thudding against my ribs like cries.
I never thought leaving this place would feel like a farewell to the person I once was.
Opening the door, I take a step to my freedom, something I longed for these seven nights. A hollow freedom with remnants of echoing darkness. That’s how it feels.
With each step I take, I feel fragments of my soul falling apart and crawling back to the house, and calling out to me.
I pause, allowing myself to look one last time at the villa. My gaze travels to the upper windows of the gym, then to Dakota’s room.
Everything remains still, silent with no movements.
*Goodbye, Mr. Black.*
With a final look, I turn away and make my way towards the gate, promising myself to never look back or return.
The distant barks of Dobermans catch my ears, but I can’t bring myself to look at them for one last time, scared that it would make walking away even harder.
“I am leaving.” I inform the security guard as he stops me at the gate.
“Please wait, while I confirm.” He tells me, dialing on the telephone.
An uneasy knot tightens in my stomach, waiting for him to receive the call and speak through the phone. My insides clench in desperate to hear his deep voice, which never really came.
Dakota didn’t pick the call.
“Wait a minute, I’ll go check.” The watchman strides towards the villa, while I stand there at the gates of my freedom.
A cab awaits patiently for me behind the towering ten-feet steal gate. The same gate I had climbed over desperately to meet him.
I wish I could turn back time and stop myself from entering.
Because now, after seven nights, I am not the same girl anymore who jumped in. I am a complete different person.
*A broken fuck toy.*
With a heavy chest, I press the button, causing the gate to slide open automatically.
Nails dig into my palms as my fists stay clenched to my sides, while I force myself to walk towards the awaiting car, and not wait for his presence.
I don’t want to see, don’t want to remember.
I get into the vehicle without looking back. I badly want to erase every damn memory connected to him.
I want to be free of him. Physically and mentally.
As the car starts rolling on its four wheels, tears roll down my cheeks uncontrollably. It feels like I am stabbing my own heart in exchange for my liberty.
And the freedom, it tastes bitter with lingering salty tears.
My phone vibrates, and I see it’s Dakota’s number.