by Marcia DM
I hear giggles turn into laughter, hysterical laughter. It’s Life; she’s rolling on the floor, and she can hardly breathe because of it.
Suffering light green eyes are watching me.
It’s him, in here, with me, in this very room. My stomach twists in fear, my eyes burst in tears. Just when hope was slowly growing within me, I find myself submitted to his watch, again.
I squirm on the bed, trying to figure out where to run. This can’t be! God is laughing at me once more. I yank the cables out of my body, I want to get to the window and cry for help.
“Help! Help!” I yell with my withering voice towards the parking lot, filled with cars waiting for their respective owners. Nobody seems to have heard, no one is coming. There’s no help on the way. I turn around, he’s on top of me.
“Cassandra, wait! Stay still! I’m not here to take you back! You’re safe here. Jesus! Stay still, dammit!” He grabs my waist while yelling at me. He puts me back in bed. There’s no way I can fight those big arms of his, which he used to pick me up as if I was made of air. My eyes are burning, and my vision is blurred by the tears. “Please, hear me out,” he covers my mouth with his hand; I try to remove it by burying my fingernails. It’s no use, I only get to hear my breath hitting the leather glove. “Let me explain, then I’ll walk away, and you don’t have to see me again. You’ve got to calm down. Can you do that for me?” I nod, but he still doesn’t trust my answer, and keeps pressing on my mouth. “You promise not to scream?” I nod again and slowly steady my breath. He finds that reassuring and starts to remove his hand slowly.
Life stands up, goes to her armchair and sits, waiting to see this unfold.
“I don’t know how to explain this and not sound crazy. In all fairness, this should come from a professional, but I just can’t… I won’t let you find out from others. I need you to hear it from me. This is my last selfish act, I swear it.” I’m paying attention, but I have absolutely no clue as to what’s going on. This is another man, it can’t be the same. And yet his voice is the same, but his tone used to be… different. “I know I can’t make you forgive me, I’ve earned your hatred for life. There are no words that can heal or comfort you, after all we’ve been through… together. But at least I want you to know that every time I had to work on you, every bit of pain I inflicted on you felt like a dagger going through my heart. I made sure I felt it even deeper than you did.”
He feels like shit about this, you can almost feel it in his eyes. This is the absolute opposite of what I’m used to feel from him. Each and every encounter we had in that cell, he expressed nothing —no words, no body language—, and yet right now his face is filled with torment, shame, anguish, fear. He’s overwhelming me, he’s no longer the prideful king who came with a trampling attitude for me. This is a completely different man, maybe even human.
“Cassandra, everything has an explanation, everything has a purpose. You see, to hunt wolves, you need wolves. And I had to become one, or at the very least, I had to act like one so that they believed I was one of them. I’m a double agent. I did things I can’t take back, and I will regret them forever. One of them is having worked on you…” He walks around me, looking for the right words to continue his story. What he doesn’t know is that there are no right words to talk about this. “I had to tape it all, the motherfuckers wanted video footage of every session!” His tone rises with each word, the sole memory outrages him. “Cassandra, I had to, they gave me no choice. We needed to complete the op and end their rule on American soil once and for all.” He circles back to my right.
He’s waiting for an answer, staring at me like a madman. Nothing comes out of my mouth. I feel like I have a snake around my throat, blocking it. I’m dumbstruck, unable to process what he just told me.
“Talk to me, please. Just say something, anything… Yell at me, spit on me, but do something!” He desperately begs for a reaction. I thought I was suppressing the words, but then I hear myself speak.
“You tortured me? You tortured me! All that pain and suffering!” I don’t really know if I’m saying this to him or myself. I’m trying to understand, to figure something out. “How could you!? I’m hollow, empty. Can’t you see that?” I’m using my hands to show him my damaged body. “Because of you! I don’t feel anything anymore! This is all your fault!” I exclaim again and again, until I notice no air is reaching my lungs. I can’t breathe, I need air. I gasp hopelessly for it but can’t seem to get any. Is this how I die, after all I’ve endured?
He immediately comes to my help. I push him back just as fast, he’s breathing the air around me. He understands what’s happening to me and starts giving me instructions.
“You’re having a panic attack. Focus on your breathing, breathe slowly, that’s all that matters right now. In and out. Come on, follow my lead.” He inhales deeply and exhales slowly. I try to follow his rhythm. “That’s it, nice and easy.” I’m slowly getting back to my body, almost not hyperventilating anymore. I can feel the air inside my lungs; my mind doesn’t want to explode. I don’t think he blinked once; his beautiful and yet horrendous look studies me just to make sure I’m… ok? When he’s certain I’m doing better, he resumes his side of the story.
“I’m your worst nightmare, I know that now. But it was all for the greater good. If I hadn’t been there, maybe we would have never pulled that rescue off. We saved hundreds of people, many of them in a much worse condition than yours. Believe me when I tell you THIS was not easy, not by a long shot. Every day I thought about quitting, but the very thought of leaving you with those monsters made me feel sick to my stomach. I’ve seen a lot of people die for different reasons —torture, starvation, rape injuries. I tried to take care of you as much as I could. You have no idea what these people are capable of. I don’t ever want you to see that again, Cassandra. I want you to be happy. I don’t care if you have to hate me to get there. Just be free.” His familiar hands are on my shoulders, his body is bent on me, trying to catch my undivided attention. How do I move on? What should I say?
The repulsion is way too strong, but I can understand what he’s telling me. I just can’t —or won’t— process it right now. I need to get out of this place… I need to see the sun.
“How long until sunrise?” I’m still shaking a bit. He looks shocked as he analyzes and observes my brows, eyes, mouth and jaw. He doesn’t get why I ask about the sun instead of what he just told me. He zones out for a second. When he comes back, he glances at his watch.
“It’s ten p.m. We’re eight hours away from sunrise…”
“Ten p.m.?” I cut in. “But everything happened just moments ago…”
“Cassandra, you’ve slept an entire day. The rescue was yesterday before sunrise...”
What?
“You stayed all this time?” What for? “What about my parents?” His body shifts. He’s about to tell me something bad about them —I know it. I knew it all along.
“Cassandra, your father… died a year ago. I’m sorry.” Dad… “And we haven’t been able to track your mother just yet. But we have our best people on it, don’t worry…”
My dad is dead?
The emptiness echoes inside me, it doesn’t change at all. For what it’s worth, I always knew this would happen. He was always struggling with a heart condition, so I guess the stress of my kidnapping and the shit that followed ended up doing it.
“It’s my fault…” I mumble, immersed in my thoughts. If only I had been more careful and more aware of my surroundings, all of this could have been prevented. What a stupid girl.
“What? No, Cassandra, don’t say that. None of this is your fault. It doesn’t matter how you look at it.”
“If only I had been more careful and more aware of my surroundings, all of this could have been prevented…” I sound like a broken record.
“Cassandra, look at me, please.” I comply, just because it’s an order and I must obey. “You’re free now, do you understand? Free.” I can’t look at hi
m for more than a few seconds. I guess old habits die hard. “If you don’t want to look at me, don’t. Just listen to my voice,” he whispers right into my ears. “Your life just took a huge turn, this time for the better. Don’t delay that turn by thinking about the past and the things you couldn’t prevent from happening. Focus on your new and only destiny, Cassandra. You must look forward, I know you can. You are strong. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” I hear his words and feel his warm breath on my skin. That slight touch makes my skin crawl. Am I really that needy for affection right now? Am I really that desperate for it that his touch feels reassuring? It’s impossible to process all this right now. Tears wash my face non-stop. I only want the world to stop for a second.
He watches me painfully. He doesn’t know how to help me this time. I hate him, but seeing this sensitive, caring, understanding side makes it all too difficult, it confuses me. Where is the monster? I can easily hate the monster.
“The night before the rescue you tried to tell me, right?” Now everything makes sense.
His reaction is a mix of regret and embarrassment.
“I don’t know what I did, but I know it was wrong. I confused you. It was selfish of me, to tell you all that. You weren’t ready for it, I— am so sorry.” I’m trying to stay focused, but my brain is too tired, my eyelids are heavy, my eyes are swollen. I think all those years of unrest finally came to an end. Now I can sleep for all those years I could never really do it, without having to stay alert and worry about him barging in, waking me up with a bucket of cold water, dragging me to the torture chamber and working on me for hours. Yes, the same man who’s standing in front of me right now, showing his pain… But what if this is a farce? If he was able to play terrorist, he most certainly can fake this as well.
“Do you want to lie down? I’ll call for the nurse.” He reaches for a button behind me.
“Just let her sleep and skip the torturing part, asshole,” says Life. Exactly.
“No!” I stop him, grabbing his hand to prevent him from pushing the button. “Just promise me that if I go to sleep I won’t wake up in that cell again,” I beg staring into his eyes.
He just looks at me and says, “I promise you. You will never have to go through that again. I won’t let that happen.” I remember the first time I saw him. I even thought he was an attractive man. He didn’t seem like someone willing to hurt me. But then, the horror. Right now, he seems shattered. His eyes look tired, they even have bags. He no longer resembles that intense and cunning man from before, who owned my cell. He’s now a man who lost a battle.
Or finished a mission.
“Rest, Cassandra. Sleep all you need to…” He turns around, walks towards the door, removes the chair from the knob and puts it back where it was.
“You don’t have to stay anymore, you’ve already done your part. You can go back to your life.” For a second, his face shows in a flash that my words hurt him; I can see it. But his shield is back up, he’s back to his former self —neat, cold eyes, showing nothing again.
“I will leave as soon as you go back to sleep…” He claims without looking at me. He grabs a magazine and pretends to go through it.
I lay my head on the pillow and feel how I drift away slowly; my eyes are losing focus and begin to shut. I can’t stop the urge to spy on him from the corner of my eye. I experience a confusing sensation: I hate that he’s here with me —I’d hate it even more not knowing where he is—, but at least this way I can be ready. At least this way I’ve got him in sight, just in case ‘he’ returns.
CHAPTER 5
Cassandra pretends to be asleep, but I know she’s watching me; that’s okay, she can’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me, either.
I wasn’t expecting her to understand, to tell me everything was okay, to run to me and throw herself into my arms, to hug me with those bony arms of hers and whisper that she forgives me; and then we’d live happily ever after. No, that’s only possible in my fantasies, the ones I have when I’m at home, by myself.
If we had met under different circumstances, maybe I could consider having a woman like her. But a man like me can never have that kind of life. I can’t even think about having a family. That’s not right for me, not with this fucking life— too many enemies, a shitty rep and the darkness that comes with it. I’ll have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. A woman like her… well, Cassandra’s damaged, I did that to her, I broke her. I took her body and carved those markings with my tools; it will take a lot for her to heal, but even when the body is completely healed, the mind will still be broken. One day someone else will enter her life and light the candles that others have blown out; and when I say ‘others,’ I mean me, the asshole. She will probably get married and surround herself with kids that will love her and give her existence a new meaning. I’ll watch her from afar, as a reminder of the good things I’ve done. All those years of enduring were necessary— for her, for her freedom… for Dante…
The mission was just a tiny piece in a bigger puzzle that sprawled like a spider web around us. There’s still plenty of evil to fight against and plenty of good to fight for, but my mind is spent, my body refuses to move. This was my last mission, my last contribution and effort to the cause.
I should get out of here as soon as possible, but I can’t. I’ve been awake for two straight days and I really can’t feel my body. Plus, I don’t give a shit anymore. I just want to sit on this chair and dare to watch her relax at last, after a long time.
Knock, knock.
Someone knocks on the door and then enters the room. A nurse, over forty. She looks at me with a friendly smile. She’s carrying a tray with food. Even though Cassandra isn’t sleeping, I don’t think that ‘waking her up’ in her current state will be a good idea. And if she’s falling asleep, I know how she will react, if she thinks I’m about to work on her.
“Nurse, let’s not wake her up. She had trouble falling asleep. If you can leave the tray on that table, I’ll appreciate it.” I point at the table with my lady-killer smile.
“Oh, this poor girl. She hasn’t eaten anything in two days. Look how skinny she is.” Yes, I know that, I’m the reason she’s that skinny. Thank you for the reminder, by the way.
I always tried to give Cassandra extra food. I could see her body withering away. When I raised the subject to the organization, my bosses said they’d rather let her die before spending another dime in food, so I started smuggling food in my pockets. I even crushed vitamin pills at home, because sometimes I managed to intercept her breakfast tray, so I sprinkled the vitamins on her bowl when no one was looking. Just because I could see that my work was taking its toll on her.
“You can leave it there; I will personally feed her when she wakes up.” Hearing myself embarrassed me. I’m her protector now? After everything I did to her? Yeah, way to go, bravo!
“Please, make sure that she does. Otherwise, we’ll have to force-feed her…” The stubborn woman finally obeys and leaves the tray on the table. “On behalf of the entire staff, I wanted to thank you and your unit for your service and dedication. You saved a lot of lives, my nephew included. We are treating him as well in this facility. He’s in a much worse condition than she is, but alive. And that’s what matters. Thank you, sir! You brought joy back to our lives. Thank you very much!” She claims while holding my hands before walking out of the room, without expecting an answer. Thank God, I’m out of cliché answers. I could never get used to people thanking me.
Through the corner of my eye, I spy on Cassandra. I know she heard the whole thing: her stirred breathing gives her away. Her fingers are pressed hard against the pillow, as if she’s trying to prevent someone from taking it away from her. But she doesn’t say anything. She keeps on playing the game of pretending to be asleep.
“You brought joy back to our lives.” Those words shocked me. They left a heavy pounding sensation on my chest. Could Cassandra feel that way, too? Or is she experiencing hatred, instead of joy?
The least I can do for her, before I become a ghost for good, is to buy her some new clothes. I always hated seeing her dressed in that smelly rag. They wouldn’t let me change it, or even wash it. I’m sure she was cold after being completely wet for hours, that must have been hard for her.
God bless America and the 24/7 stores. It wouldn’t have been my first choice —had I had any— but at this hour there’s no way around it. It’s late as shit and I need to buy crap for her. For the first time in my life, I’m walking around a women’s clothing department, actually looking to buy something instead of just pretending to shop. To my surprise, I don’t understand jack shit about women’s sizes or styles, so I grab what I think would be convenient for her to wear. Cassandra needs a fresh start; maybe this will help ease the transition from where she was to where she needs to be. The cashier looks at me with distrust. Who can blame her? I mean, who goes and buy this many clothes at this time of night? And why? People who feel guilty, that’s who and why.
On my way back to the hospital, I start remembering that during the mission, I used to wonder, What would Cassandra want to do after she gets discharged from the hospital? My guess is as good as any. Maybe look for her mother. She’ll be under custody for a long time, at the very least until the debriefs are completed, all the bodies are identified and the next of kin are notified. The government will provide her with housing until she can get back on her feet, but that will take some time as well.