Anna

by Sammy H. K. Smith

  As the light disappeared we crouched closer and closer to the board until it was impossible to see the moves.

  “I guess we have to finish, who won?” Ben screwed up his face as he started to count the money.

  “You did, I mortgaged all my properties.”

  “Oh wow, I never win!” He sounded genuinely pleased and I couldn’t help but smile. “I have to go and cook tea now. Will you come downstairs and talk to me?”

  “Ok.” I didn’t want to, not with the men in the kitchen, but for Ben, I would. He re-clipped the little dog on to his keyring and packed away the pieces.

  “Here, you keep the boot. It’s your piece now.”

  I took the small metal piece from his hand and slipped it into my jeans pocket without thinking. It was only as we walked down the stairs in the dark and into the kitchen that I panicked and thought of how he would search my clothes tonight.

  Three camping gas lights lit the room and the men were still sat at the table, but a woman had joined them. I made the mistake of catching her gaze and I almost stumbled. Pity. Was I imagining it? I looked at her again and her eyes followed me, no, it was as clear as day.

  “What are you cooking tonight, Ben?”

  “Pasta and fried corned beef.” He held out two huge pans to those at the table. “I need water.”

  One of them stood and took the pans wordlessly, leaving the house. The others had stopped their jokes and instead looked me up and down.

  “What’s your name?” It was her, the pitying one.

  “Anna.”

  “Nice to meet you Anna, I’m Ella.” She nodded to the two who sat in the corner. “That’s Stu on the left and Jay on the right.”

  “Where’s Matthew and Kris?” Ben interrupted.

  “Olly wanted them for something.”

  Five, no, six including the one who had taken the pans. Will had told me there were seven.

  “Thirsty, Anna?” She held up a shot glass and nodded to the bottle of whisky on the table. I shook my head. “You sure? It’ll help relax you.”

  “Anna’s off-limits Ella, Olly and Will say so.”

  Her face relaxed; this wasn’t a dream. Perhaps she could help me escape, leave this place tonight. We could run. I added the numbers together in my head, we could make good time before anyone realised we were gone. I held the plan in my mind, covering it with hope and holding it tightly. I realised the betrayal of my thoughts. I’d looked towards a stranger to save me, someone unknown and untested. Why did I turn to her for comfort? A woman I knew nothing about. I stepped back, hoping to create a small distinction of space between us.

  “Hear that? No one touches Anna.” Ella raised her voice and the others nodded.

  The man returned with the water. Ben lit the stove and leaned against the cupboard, waiting for the water to boil. It was a standoff, all eyes trained on us both, no one speaking. I crumbled first and stared at the floor. A few moments later they resumed their conversation and I looked at Ben. “Where’s Kat?”

  “Probably asleep, she doesn’t do much other than sex, and sleep.”

  “Do you need a hand?”

  “Actually, can you set the table? Ella will set up the camping table.”

  “You all eat here?” The panic set in again, a room full of men, a room with Will in; my false freedom would slip away again.

  “Yeah, it’s Olly’s idea. We eat together every night, we’re a family.”

  Right. A family.

  The two tables were pushed together and with Ella’s help I laid out the tablecloths and cutlery.

  As the food was served, Stu went and brought the other men to the house. The temperature rose, and the heat from so many bodies made me uncomfortable. Will was at Olly’s right hand. His dark eyes locked onto mine and he smiled. I had to hold his gaze, there was no other option. If I looked away he would be angry, he would wonder why.

  He took me in his arms and held me again; as though we were long lost lovers instead of predator and prey.

  “Have you been good, Anna?” I nodded into his chest and he held me tightly for a while, finally releasing me and taking my hand in his to lead me to the table. In the few hours I was free of him so much of my independence had returned. I didn’t want to be led like a pet.

  Kat emerged, and sat next to Olly, her make-up immaculate. As I sat down, Ella took the seat to my right. It was a tight squeeze at the tables and her thigh pressed against mine, a silly and dangerous gesture, but it warmed me inside. A person whose humanity had yet to be eroded by circumstance. Foolishly I pressed back. Just a little. There was a feminine solidarity that comforted me.

  Olly spoke of rebuilding the world, showing humiliation and understanding; being firm and decisive and showing no weakness. The men murmured their agreements, while Kat, Ben and I stared at them. The conversation flowed between the men with Kat and Ben joining in, but I remained silent. The heat and touch from Ella scorched my skin. Too hot now, I tried to shift but she continued to press against me. I couldn’t move any more for fear of Will seeing us touch. I was trapped.

  Chapter Seven

  While Ben made coffee, they sat and spoke of trades and the other villages. I listened for news of any women that had escaped, to hear if any had been recaptured but there was nothing. Instead I learnt of a new community twenty miles north of there. I listened attentively as Ella spoke in hushed tones to Will. It was a fanciful tale, one of a new town run by women, for women. I didn’t look up, and the way Will spoke with amusement and derision made me feel it was a game of sorts. Perhaps a cruel way to see how I would react: and so instead I tuned them out, only paying attention when the men stood and left one by one.

  It would have to end, and Will pulled me up and clicked the cuff around my wrist, tying me to him again.

  “If you need anything, let me know.”

  I stole a glance at Olly, he had the same dead look in his eyes as my captor: an absence of compassion.

  “I will.”

  He led me out of the house and I allowed myself one look back over my shoulder, catching Ella’s gaze. It was there all right: pity. The warmth she’d given me with the truth of her leg disappeared as we walked back towards my prison cell.

  “Did you enjoy speaking with Olly’s pieces?”

  Pieces. I pushed my nails into my already sore palms and allowed the haze of sharp pain to calm the anger.

  “Yes. We played games.”

  “Did you speak to the men?”

  “Only to tell them my name.”

  Ella. I thought about her again; her tall lanky frame, her mouse-like face and those pitying eyes. I squeezed again and cleared her from my mind.

  The journey back disorientated me. We turned right when I thought we should go left and we passed two buildings that looked so similar I thought them the same one. Was he leading me in circles? Trying to confuse me further? We reached his base and walked up the stairs in silence.

  Without saying a word he un-cuffed us, placing the metal shackles next to the bed and taking off his jacket and backpack. I stood by the chain and shackles on the wall expectantly, but instead he pulled off his jumper and I stepped back in horror as he moved towards me. No, no, no, not now, no! I had a few days, surely, he didn’t, he wouldn’t. No.

  “Anna, I just want to hold you.” There was no anger, just a gentle, pleasant voice. He didn’t fool me. The dead boy’s face echoed in me again and I screwed my eyes shut. Please no, please go away, I’m sorry, so very sorry.

  “Anna.” My name again, Anna, submissive and gracious.

  I kept my eyes closed as he pulled my top over my head. Empty, it was as though I wasn’t there. I covered my chest with my hands, wrapping my arms around me. I couldn’t think, but tried to concentrate on my life, my life. Stephen’s touch, Stephen’s kiss, but each memory of us together melted away and Will reformed in his place. I shivered. The room was cold and my exposed back and chest were covered in goose bumps, and yet my brand burnt and prickled.

&nbs
p; He pulled his tee shirt off. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that. He gripped my wrists tightly but I didn’t move my arms, and instead let the pain remind me that I wasn’t numb, that I wasn’t empty or the un-living puppet. I shook my head and screwed my eyelids tighter.

  “Anna, please don’t make me angry. You want to see Kat and Ben again, don’t you?” Ben, yes, I wanted to see Ben again. I hated him, I hated him. I screamed inside, pushing the face of the boy away, pushing Stephen and Will away, until there was nothing.

  I could feel how close he was to me. Crackling heat, that’s what they said; they were right. He continued to squeeze my wrists; yes, yes. I was torn. I didn’t want to feel, but I did. I needed to know I wasn’t a shell, a husk. I held out for as long as I could until I felt my wrists burn and the pressure build. He waited. He knew he would win. I expected the crack of a slap, the bite of a pinch, but nothing.

  “You are so delicate, Anna. Just let me take care of you.” How I wished he wouldn’t speak, that voice made it all so real. Delicate, yes, Anna was delicate and docile. Not me. Yet my strength ebbed away, my arms starting to shake and he tightened his grip again. I forced my eyes open and stared at his face. He was smiling.

  “I won’t hurt you, Anna. I want to take care of you.”

  Oh, how I had a reply for that; fuck you! But Anna, Anna didn’t. This was Anna’s predicament, I gave in then, relaxed my arms and his grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

  “That’s it, good girl,” he breathed, pushing my arms to my side. I closed my eyes again as he pushed me against him, skin on skin. I stared at the door as he stroked down my back, touching my brand. “It’s nearly healed.” I didn’t reply; my face against his chest disgusted me. It was like a thousand ants crawling and nipping at my flesh. “Hold me, Anna.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and fixed my gaze on the door: the dark imperfections of the knots that twisted and curled inside themselves, then the wavy grain of the wood, like rows of sand after the tide held my attention. I concentrated hard on the wood, trying desperately to ignore the feel of his touch, the smell of his skin, and the way he kissed my hair. I couldn’t though and, as his lips moved down the side of my face, I jumped and squirmed. Cheat. He said he just wanted to hold me, not kiss me.

  “What’s wrong? Am I not gentle?” He held me tightly again. No, he was cruel, uncaring and unfeeling. “Do I not take care of you? Stop them from touching you?” I continued to struggle and he held me tighter. I couldn’t breathe. Where were my tears? Those betraying tears that usually fell when I didn’t want them – I wanted them now, but my eyes were dry. “Anna?”

  “You said you wanted to hold me.” I leaned away as far from his face as I could, but he pulled me in tighter. I was still holding him, I didn’t stop, what was the point?

  “I just want to show you that I care.”

  “Let me go.” I squirmed again, it was too hot being held this way. I needed air. “Please, let me go, I need the bathroom.” His embrace loosened but he continued to stroke my back.

  “Still hurts?”

  Why did he have to sound like he cared? And why did he make me feel like a liar? A fraud and a cheat, like I was the one who should feel bad? “Yes, it still hurts. I need a moment’s privacy.” I swallowed. “Please, Will.”

  He paused for a moment, and then released me. I lowered my arms, grateful for the space between us as the cool air dried my skin. And then I covered my chest again, but this time I looked up at him and mirrored his expressionless face.

  “Please Will, I just need a few moments.” Carefully I reached into my jeans pocket and withdrew the now battered cardboard box. “Please?”

  He nodded and I grabbed my top from the floor, turning my back to him, and pulling it down in relief.

  Nodding to the bucket, he turned his back and stared at the wall. I swallowed quickly, excuses failing to come. Instead I winced at the dryness as I pushed a tampon in with a tiny gasp.

  “Anna?”

  I cleared my throat and pulled my trousers up.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, sorry.”

  He turned around. His backpack was in the corner of the room. I still itched to go through it, see what he carried.

  He interrupted my thoughts and sat me on the bed, removing my boots and socks.

  “I can do it.” I grabbed his arms. “Please, I can do it.” Helpless, Anna was so very helpless, but surely I could give her some strength? Some small amount of independence? That wasn’t cheating. He nodded, watching me as he removed his hands from me and crossed his arms. I worked quickly, the quicker I went the shorter the amount of time he would spend staring at me. I stuffed my socks into my boots and kicked them under the bed. He leant forward, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of my jeans. I grabbed his wrists and shook my head.

  He ignored me this time and pulled down my jeans, running his hands over my skin. The hairs on my legs prickled as my skin pimpled. I was powerless, there was no strength to give. Time, that was all there was. What was the point in fighting? I wouldn’t, couldn’t win. These two weeks I’d spent wishing I was free, wishing that there was a way for me to remain me, was a farce, and it was pathetic.

  Staring at the artex ceiling I traced shapes; animals and clouds in my mind. A cat, an elephant and a rabbit. As he removed my top again and touched my skin I lay there and let go. It was futile fighting, pointless. Another cloud, and a sheep. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my breast. My legs continued to dangle over the bed as he knelt between them. I was with the clouds, I was a cloud, floating, carefree and light, weightless, wandering. He removed his own jeans. Wordsworth: I remembered the poem and repeated it over and over in my mind as he continued to possess me.

  He interrupted my dream, my wandering, and as he stood he blocked my view of the ceiling and my blessed world. The dance ended. All I could see now was his face and I blinked repeatedly, hoping that he would disappear. Pushing me further on the bed he wrapped his body around mine, pulling me into his chest. I stared at the wall this time, creating roads and paths on the flowery wallpaper. I was a cloud, wandering above the roads and paths, I was weightless.

  I woke often that night to find him staring at me in the dark, and following the curves of my body with his fingers, his touch light and hesitant – but I felt it, of course I did. When he caught me watching he pulled me closer and pushed his lips against mine, hauling me onto him and forcing his tongue in my mouth. I could feel his body under mine and the way it responded to our kiss. I was grateful for my underwear, so grateful that I didn’t resist. I was pliable and submissive, like a good girl, how he wanted me. He was sickeningly tender, I wanted him to hurt me, cause me pain, beat me, but he didn’t. He kissed my face, my eyes, my neck, and my hands. I let him. I could have fought, scratched his eyes, beaten him. But what would have been the point? I wasn’t leaving. I was his, like Kat was Olly’s.

  He curled his body on his side around me: spooning. How had that phrase come about? Who had looked at spoons and thought of lovers?

  Lovers. Why had I used that word? He wasn’t my lover, he was my captor, my puppet-master and abuser. How had he worn me down and brainwashed me into accepting this hell? I stared at the wallpaper again, following the stems and petals of the flowers. The hatred that burnt inside me was enough to comfort me. No, definitely not brainwashed. The morning came and I woke to find him dressed and wrapping me up in the sheet.

  “I’ll be back shortly. Do you need anything?”

  Perplexed, I shook my head and he continued to tuck me in. Was I now a child? I was glad though, as the light streamed through the window I didn’t want him to see me half naked.

  “I won’t be long.” He stood, and pointed to the chain and shackles. “I’m going to lock the door, but I won’t put these on. Can I trust you, Anna?” He glanced at me and I nodded again. “Good.” Picking up his backpack he pulled out fresh clothes and underwear for me and left them on the drawers. “I’ve taken you
r dirty clothes. Ben will wash them.”

  “I can do it.” The thought of Ben washing my clothes upset me. I sat up, dragging the sheet around my body and he smiled at me, that warm smile which didn’t reach his eyes. Sitting on the bed he tucked my hair behind my ear.

  “It’s Ben’s job, Olly will be angry with him if he doesn’t do his chores.” His hand lingered and slowly he touched my arm, trailing it down and across my body, tugging at the sheet. I closed my eyes as it dropped and he put his hands on me again. I tried to picture the clouds but it wouldn’t work, the brightness of the day and lack of shadows turned this into a harsh reality. “I do care for you, Anna. I watched you for three days. I had to be sure, but you were the one, you needed me.”

  That worked. I opened my eyes in confusion: watched me? He was the hunter, I was the prey. How long would it be before he killed me? Skinned and gutted me?

  “We get on so much better when we don’t fight.” He walked from the room, locking the door behind him and leaving me shaking. I dressed in the new clothes he’d left and laced up my boots.

  I made the bed, pulling the sheets tightly, the evidence of the night smoothed away with each tug and pat of the cotton. I lay down and stared at the ceiling, searching for my clouds and animals. I found them, all bar the rabbit. He had gone, escaped perhaps. I couldn’t help but smile. The rabbit had escaped.

  I don’t know how long it was – it could have been minutes or it might have been hours – but eventually the door clicked. I could smell the food, soup, hot soup and… coffee? I watched as he carried the tray, balancing it on one hand while he locked the door behind him; of course.

  “I’ve brought you something.” He smiled and placed the tray on my lap. I was right about the food, but there was also a perfect yellow rose. My favourite, but he didn’t know that. How could he?

  “Thank you.” I touched the soft petals and picked it up. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Just like you.”

  I wasn’t beautiful. I was too scarred, too wretched, too dirty and with badly cut hair. No, I wasn’t beautiful.