Page 28 of Haze of Obedience
6
Zoe
Thirteen Months Prior
Ten days pass.I fight my demons of addiction, cold turkey. The entire time, I obsess over how to get my hands on some cocaine or kill myself.
Penelope is the only person in the room except when they bring food or make her leave.
My withdrawal symptoms create the most pain I've ever experienced and cycle through intense and tolerable all day and night.
Penelope has become my crutch, and when the man comes to take her away, the mental battle begins.
When she's there, my mind is occupied by her words or actions. By myself, the loneliness and guilt of decisions I've made or things I've done haunt me. There is no escaping them.
The room we are held prisoner in has bare white walls, no windows, a bed, and a full bathroom. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, and shaving cream are in the restroom. Our guard brings Penelope a razor every day, but as soon as she finishes shaving, she has to give it back to him.
We have toothbrushes and toothpaste, but when I arrived, they took away the mouth wash so I wouldn't drink it for the alcohol.
The closet is full of designer gowns and cocktail dresses in Penelope's size. Expensive shoes fill the floor. Every night, she gets dressed up and leaves.
I'm so consumed by my withdrawal issues, I never ask her where she goes until after day ten when I wake up, and the muscle cramps I've had are gone. It's also the first day I haven't woken up craving a hit of coke.
Penelope runs her hand through her hair. "Santiago makes me have dinner with him, attend smaller functions, and tell him my secrets."
"What are your secrets?"
She turns to the wall. "I can't tell you anything. Please don't ask again."
"Okay. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Thank you for understanding."
"You're from the U.K.?"
"Yes."
"How did you get over here?"
"I worked at the British Embassy in Panama."
"Really? I played there a few months ago. I'm surprised we never met. I would remember you. You look like a model."
She smiles. "Thanks. I was sick the night you played, or we would have. Speaking of sick, you look a lot better."
"I feel better. I'm sure this has been horrible for you...having to deal with me."
She snorts. "I'm glad you're better, but being with you is better than being by myself."
"How long have you been here?"
Her face falls. "I think three or four months since before you came. I'm not sure anymore."
"You've been here all on your own for that long?"
"No." She places her hand over her face and breaks down crying.
I scoot over on the bed and put my arm around her. "Are you okay?"
