Deception and Chaos

by S. M. Soto

  My parents didn’t have much family, both of my grandparents had passed well before we were born, and I had never met any of our extended family. That is, if we even had any. It was just me and Gar against the world and sometimes, it still feels that way.

  The line is quiet, until I hear him sniff and clear his throat. He blows out a long, deep sigh over the line that echoes in my ear.

  “I know, kid. I promise I’ll call soon and we’ll set something up. I miss you more than anything, don’t ever second guess that. And you will never lose me Sophie. I’m always a phone call away.”

  I let the tears fall and sniffle into the phone. Picking my head up from the receptionist desk, I dart my gaze around the empty lobby, and discretely wipe my tears.

  God, I hated getting overly emotional. I know Garrett hated it too.

  “I really gotta go now, but I’ll be in touch soon. Please be safe and know I love you.”

  I quickly swipe away my tears and smile.

  “Always. I love you too, big brother Garrett. Bye.”

  I can hear his smile through the phone, “Bye, Soph.”

  PRESENT

  I IGNORE THE THROBBING PAIN in my body and focus on the memories. They’re all I have now; all that keep me going. That was the last time I spoke to my brother. I was abducted five days after the banquet.

  Abducted.

  That’s not a word I would’ve ever associated with myself.

  I lived a normal and safe life. I went to college at Sacramento State, I worked part time at Starbucks before school, and worked as a receptionist at Fields & Dunn criminal law firm after classes. I didn’t go out and party, I wasn’t careless, and I rarely even dated. I had one best friend who had been there through the worst times in my life and helped me and my brother pull through.

  It hurts every time I think about my brother and everything we’ve lost. I had every hope that I would be free from these men and whatever they wanted from me by now. But that was a long time ago. I’m sure my missing persons case has gone cold with how long it feels like I’ve been trapped here.

  Every moment that passes, I feel myself slipping further and further away. I’m no longer Sophia Cova, twenty-four-year old college student. In her place is an imposter—a broken, lost, tortured soul. My old self is unrecognizable. With each beating, each degrading act, I’ve lost a vital piece of myself. I’ve lost everything at the hands of these men and yet, I still haven’t broken, no matter how badly I want to. My body is in tatters, my mind is in shambles, but my heart, my heart is broken beyond repair. There’s this darkness growing inside me. It feeds off my pain and suffering, tarnishing my psyche, blackening my soul. Slowly, they’re breaking me, and they won’t be satisfied until I shatter.

  My heart aches at the thought of what my brother is likely going through. Losing your parents and your only sibling is devastating. All Garrett has ever known is loss. The loss of loving parents, and then a little sister that was taken by God knows who, for God knows what reason. Since I was thirteen years old, life has handed me a shit deck of cards, but Garrett, he wasn’t even given a chance in this life. Life folded before Garrett was even able to look at his hand.

  I immerse myself in the memories until the throbbing fades into a dark, dreamless slumber.

  I startle awake as pins, and needle like sensations stab my body. Every muscle stiffens forcibly. My body violently trembles to life when I come to, the startling realization that I’m soaked in freezing water. I inhale a shuddering breath that rattles my chest. Another bucket of ice-cold water is thrown on me and I gasp for air, trying to let my body adjust to the arctic temperature. My bones ache, screaming in protest and the freezing water has made my tense body even more stiff. I can barely move as a heaviness settles in my head, making me feel groggy. I gasp and choke as the buckets continue to be thrown on me. My teeth chatter violently, slowly chipping away the enamel.

  Forcing my heavy head up, I instantly realize I’m in the exact position I was in last night—sprawled out across the hard, cold floor, topless. I try to push myself upright but it’s no use. My arms shake and struggle under my weight with no give. I dart my gaze around the room frantically, until I spot him. The largest man of the group is glaring at me from his position a few feet away.

  He’s always clean shaven, unlike the others and I give a silent thank you he’s the only one left in here. I’m well-aware of the many weapons always strapped to his body. He has a black balaclava draped over his head with black pants, boots and a long sleeve shirt.

  “Get up. It’s time to get you cleaned,” he says in his heavily accented voice. His tone brooks no room for argument. I try to sit up but my body protests with every movement I make. Tears sting my eyes as pain tears through my head and ribs. Every bone feels like it’s been broken repeatedly. I feel beaten and battered—like I’ve been run over by a semi-truck.

  The large man slides his arms around me and picks me up roughly, uncaring that I’m in pain. I can feel the fresh wounds on my back break open and the movement makes me cry out from the friction of his body rubbing against mine with each step he takes. He carries me out of the basement and up a small, creaky, wooden set of stairs into the washroom. He flings my weak body down and tosses a soap bar and a tattered towel at me.

  “Undress,” is all he says. His thick Arab accent wrapping around me.

  I take a timid step back and protectively wrap my arms around myself, refusing to take my undergarments off, the only thing shielding me from his advances. Dread creeps through my veins and travels throughout the rest of my body. He stalks toward me, getting in my face, and grinds out harshly, “Undress before you anger me you, filthy dog!”

  I suck in a sob, and shakily let the torn shirt fall off my shoulders and onto the ground in a heap of material. I bite down harshly on my bottom lip to stop any noises from escaping.

  He starts running the filthy bath water and surprisingly helps me step inside. He shoves the soap bar into my hand with zero sympathy.

  “Wash yourself as best as you can. Whatever you can’t clean, I will.”

  I sit frozen. Unable to force my limbs to move. In all the time I’ve been here, I haven’t had the pleasure of bathing, not even once. But this? This isn’t how I wanted it.

  “Now!” He barks, and my body jolts in fear. My bottom lip trembles and I quickly run the soap bar under the water and let it lather in my shaky hands. The tub water is already a filthy brown color that makes me curl into myself with shame.

  How did I fall so far?

  I clean my private areas first, as discreetly as I can and try to get every other place as best as possible, so he won’t have to touch me. I look up into his impatient face.

  “I can’t reach my back,” I whisper. His nostrils flare at the inconvenience, his lips thinning into a grim line. He bends forward and snatches the soap bar out of my hand roughly. He scrapes the bar onto my back, over the abrasions and I let out a strangled cry from the stinging pain as the cheap soap enters my wounds. Apathy clouds his features as he washes my filthy hair with the soap.

  Once finished in the bath, he sets out a clean, off-white nightgown and orders me to change. He chucks a wooden paddle brush at me and I stare down at it in surprise and wonder. It’s not like I’ve never seen a hair brush before, but in all my time here I haven’t so much as seen anything but four concrete walls and a sodden, dirty mattress. The brush looks filthy, and old, the bristles rough and bent. I stare up at him blankly.

  They’re letting me brush my hair? I never get to brush my hair. My brows crease in confusion.

  “You must look clean for the auction.” Is all he says by way of explanation. The frown on my face deepens.

  “Auction?” I whisper in pure confusion. He turns to me and grips my forearm shoving me toward the fresh pile of clothes.

  “You will be chosen by the highest bidder. A buyer will choose his prize as his pet, to do with as he pleases. Now dress, kalb!” He shouts angrily as he shoves the clean nightgow
n into my clammy hands.

  The room suddenly tips off its axis. My stomach flips violently, and I suck in a ragged breath. My eyes burn with a fresh wave of tears and my ears start ringing. I get a sharp pain in my chest and double over trying to catch my breath.

  “No, no, no, no, no.” Is all I manage to get out. I realize I’m hyperventilating, unable to control my breathing. I stumble away from him on shaky legs, trying to find a way to escape. My eyes dart everywhere much like a frightened animal.

  Sold into what? Sex slavery? A pet?

  I’m a human being!

  I’d rather be dead. I can’t do that. I can’t even stand it here with these men.

  “I can’t. Please, don’t do this, please!” I wail, pleading with him to show me mercy and let me go. He reaches me in three strides and slaps me across the face so hard it forces me to the floor. Pain shoots across my face as I hear him rustling with something behind me. He lifts me off the floor impatiently and begins dressing me. I sob uncontrollably as he tosses me around like a rag doll. Through my tears I see a thick black cloth in his hands as he comes toward me.

  “Please!” I scream as hysteria claws at my throat. The black sack is yanked over my head and blocks my vision from everything. My screams are muffled beneath it. My heart pounds wildly and my chest constricts with the realization that I can’t breathe beneath the sack hood.

  A sharp pain shoots through my chest, and it feels like I’m suffocating. I shift my eyes under the cloth bag trying in vain to see but it’s pitch black. Not a single stream of light penetrates through the darkness surrounding me. My already racing heart speeds up and the anxiety capsizes my body. He yanks me by the arm and drags me beside him. His grip is iron tight, leaving no room for me to wiggle my arm free and escape. My body screams in protest from being forced to move, especially after last night. I hear several voices in another language and the distinct sound of multiple doors opening and closing.

  I’m suddenly bathed in a pool of sweltering heat. My nightgown clings to my freshly washed skin as droplets of perspiration accumulate on my body. It feels as if someone just opened the door to a large oven—it’s almost unbearable. The stifling heat and the thick cloth of the bag covering my face makes it nearly impossible to inhale a deep breath.

  My bare feet slap on what feels like gravel. The rocky pebbles on the ground are jagged and blistering beneath my bare feet. I’m shoved carelessly onto a hard, smooth surface, and slam into something metal. Still unable to see a thing, my heart bangs around frantically in my chest and my breaths come out in short ragged pants.

  “What’s happening? Help me!” I scream through my broken sobs. There’s a sharp prick in my neck and instantly my heartbeat slows, and my limbs loosen. I begin to feel groggy—the lack of light filtering through the bag lulling me into a peaceful slumber. There’s a distant sound of an engine starting then the crunching of gravel that slowly fades away into numbing darkness.

  PAST

  I PULLED MY RUN-DOWN JETTA into my designated parking spot in my apartment’s parking garage. I used to live on campus with my best friend Alexis, but when she started dating her newest boyfriend Benjamin, they were constantly doing the dirty deed.

  And I mean constantly.

  I’m no prude, don’t get me wrong, but good lord, those two hump like rabbits.

  My brother Garrett offered to pay the bills on an apartment for me with the exception I still attend school and not “fuck off”. His words, not mine. Obviously, I chose an apartment complex closest to school and work, so I wouldn’t have to do too much traveling. It was the perfect arrangement. It also helped that my favorite donut shop was only a block away.

  My eyes shift to the time on the dashboard and I groan. Shit, is it already ten? Awesome, I have a paper to write and an eight a.m., class tomorrow morning.

  Why did I ever think college and managing two part-time jobs was a good idea?

  I pop my trunk and retrieve the two medium sized boxes filled with my belongings, stacking them on top of each other as to not make two trips. While I was studying at Alexis and Ben’s place earlier, I managed to find and pick up the rest of my stuff I still had there. Apparently, she thought my clothing, and my favorite lamp were hers.

  Right.

  The boxes aren’t too heavy by any means, but with them stacked on top of each other it makes it plenty hard to see over them. With my hands full I manage to lock up my car and grab my purse with the grace of a complete klutz. No dropped boxes yet so I’m doing pretty good, for now at least. I walk quickly toward the elevators, thanking the heavens I live in a place that has an elevator option instead of just stairs. I seriously can’t even imagine trying to walk up the stairs with these boxes.

  The slamming of a door somewhere on my right makes me jolt in surprise and my heart trips over a beat. I quicken my stride toward the elevator, trying to ignore the hairs at the back of my neck that are standing at attention. I’ve always hated the sensation of paranoia, it made my blood pressure rise to an uncomfortable level and often made my mind feel like it wasn’t my own. Being in a parking lot at ten o’clock at night wasn’t exactly the safest place to be either. Not that my complex isn’t safe, but I was always taught from a young age that you couldn’t trust everyone around you. Not even your closest neighbor.

  As I reach the elevators, I repeatedly jab the button with my elbow and wait for the ding. I hear a scuffle of something behind me and whirl around on my heels. A guy dressed in jeans and a simple white t-shirt stands there quietly with his keys in one hand and the other resting casually in his pocket.

  “Sorry.” He chuckles and raises his hands up in surrender. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realize anyone else was around.” He gives me a charming smile and I immediately feel the tension in my shoulders ease. I cock my head to the side and look him up and down. He’s cute in an understated type of way.

  How is it possible that I’ve never seen him around? It’s strange.

  I don’t know all the tenants here, but I can’t believe I missed him—or Alexis for that matter, she’s like a cute male magnet. Surely, she would’ve scoped him out by now. Or vice versa.

  “No, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s fine. Today has been too long and I just need a few hours of sleep. Heck maybe even days,” I joke, trying to fill the awkward air with words. He gives a raspy laugh.

  “Here let me help you with something, please.” He offers extending his hands out to me. I blow out a breath of relief. Thank God.

  “Wow. Thank you,” I say, slightly taken aback. “You’re too kind.” I try to shift my purse and hand him the boxes but feel unsteady. With a huff, I say, “You know what, let me just set them down then we can regroup.”

  He stifles his laughter as he watches me struggle, and I bend down to set both boxes onto the floor so he can grab them. I suddenly feel a painful jab to the back of my head. The force of the blow sends me reeling down on all fours, and I cry out in pain. I shakily bring the palm of my hand to the back of my head that’s now throbbing, making me feel off balance.

  Once I regain my bearings, I whip my head around unsteadily and feel a sharp prick in my neck. The sting in my neck catches me off guard. The guy hovers over me and I stare up at him in complete shock. The fluorescent lights in the parking garage gleam against his tan skin, highlighting the evil look in his eyes. His face is cold and emotionless—so very different from the man I met no more than a few minutes ago. Blinking rapidly, I try to push to my feet, or scramble away, but it’s like my body is no longer my own. My limbs feel like deadweight and it seems like everything is happening in slow motion.

  “What…thid…you—”

  My tongue starts to feel heavy, keeping me from finishing my sentence, or screaming for help. I’m easily lifted off the floor, a heavy sack pulled over my head, blocking my vision. By the time my mind processes what’s happening, everything slowly fades to a black, silent void.

  I don’t know how long I’m out, but when I finally come
to, I feel groggy and nauseated. My head is throbbing, and my eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each. I try to peel them open and fail miserably. There’s faint voices in the background but I can’t decipher what’s being said.

  What the hell happened?

  God, why is my head throbbing? Shit, did I get drunk last night with Alexis?

  I lift my arm so I can rub my temples, but my limbs don’t move. I try the movement again, but nothing happens. Instead, I feel like I’m being restrained.

  What the…?

  I yank my arms again and feel stinging pressure around my wrists. My neck aches from hanging forward. I crane my head back, ignoring the pain, and force my eyes open. My vision clears, resting on rusty pipes along a dilapidated cement ceiling.

  Where the hell am I?

  I quickly flick my gaze down at myself and dread consumes me as I realize I’m tied to a chair. Physically restrained by ropes that are chaffing my skin.

  My pulse pounds violently, reverberating in my temples and blood roars deafeningly in my ears. Darting my gaze around the room, my heart constricts, and my breathing picks up. The room is dingy, with four walls and no windows. There’s a small twin bed with stains, a bucket in the corner of the room and the metal chair I’m attached to.

  That’s it.

  The room spins before my very eyes, like I’m sitting on a tilt-a-whirl at the state fair. Bile rises to my throat and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

  Flashes of the night before start becoming clearer. Running into the guy at the parking lot, getting hit in the head, the sharp pain…oh my God. My heart screeches to a stop as the realization sets in. I start frantically struggling against the restraints and my blood pressure shoots through the roof.