Vivian's POV:

Ever felt so hopelessly trapped in your own skin, that the mere thought of existing pains.

Well, that's exactly how I feel at this particular moment. I'm allowed no movement. No stretch of my aching legs, no flexing my flimsy arms. Nothing. I simply remain laying in this bed; breathing, thinking, consumed by my emotions. Being alone in this room with my feelings is the absolute worst. I have nowhere to run, no one to turn to. They're here, dancing in my mind, taunting my thoughts and all I can do is handle them with a delicate touch. At least as delicate as I am mentally able to. 

"Do you remember a while back I wanted to ask you something?" a disembodied voice announces. But of course, me being caught up in my own little world of thought pay very little attention to it. Unintentionally that is.

Who the fuck-... not now Jess.

I have come to learn a very valuable lesson in life. Only a few people truly care. The rest are just curious. So what on God's green earth, ravaged by man's doing, were Steven's intentions when he came to see me? If I'd known any better, I'm pretty sure he'd be the first one to celebrate my tormenting ordeal. So why the act of good will, of thoughtfulness, gentleness, and understanding. It baffles my perspective on him. 

Maybe I shouldn't over-analyze the situation. What good could I possibly obtain from doing so in any case? I guess it's time to snap back to a racking reality. As my head refuses to contribute a rotary motion, my eyeballs drift from one corner to the next trying to locate the source. A minuscule realization soon hits me as I am made aware of the camera in my room.

It's just 'mystery man'... I soon inform her. 

You aren't seriously going to call him that are you?... Jess queries. To which I have to admit, now that I think about it, it's a rather important question. 

Of course not. Either he tells me his name, or I pick one of my own... I respond and soon realize that another awaits my response.

"Y-yeah," I breathe out. 

Well I mean, I guess I remember. Besides, I'm sure he'll end up telling me anyway.

"I wanted to ask if you mind to tell me more about yourself."

My face sets out a deadpan display. Eye's uninterested, mouth sealed shut in a thin straight line. Silence soon engulfs the room like a heavy cloud waiting to burst. I sigh, realizing that he won't speak any further until I do.

"E- ex- excuse me?" I decided to dumb myself down a bit, just enough for him to further elaborate on his peculiar request.

"Do. You. Mind. Telling-" He begins by spacing out each syllable, allowing them to drip from his mouth as if speaking to some undeveloped newborn. I think it's downright obvious he takes me for some backward halfwit.

Okay, maybe I should have expected such an obnoxiously bad-mannered and cheeky response, but this is just outrageous. I don't care who he is, he will not taunt me or treat me poorly. I decide to cut him off before any form of anger arises in me.

Just take a deep breath, don't lose your cool... I collectively calm myself.

"I h-heard you, I just f-found... find it w-weird." I begin, already accepting my awful speech capability. "But then a-again, it's not l-like I have much t-to lose an-any-anyway. So s-sure. On one con-condition though."

I seem to have plenty of one condition schemes today. If I should even call it that, seeing as this is only the second one being made. Either which way, a condition remains a condition and I do hope he follows through. Nothing is stopping him from doing otherwise, but I look forward to discovering who he is. 

Yep, I have officially made it my new mission. I call it, 'Unmasking The Mask Of Mystery Man'. No, that's way too long. 'Unmasking Mystery Man'? Oh goodness no. Jess is right, I do need to change his name.

"Which is?" he questions, causing me to snap out of my thoughts.

Which is- what the hell was my condition again?... I need to stop doing this. Getting so lost in thought, I completely lose my original train of thought. It's crazy.

Oh right, of course...

"You have t-to do the s-same in return. Besides, it's n-not like I have anyone else t-to talk to. So wh-whatever you tell me will re-remain st-strictly c-con-confidential." I inform him. Yes, that's my condition. A simple exchange of knowledge. 

"So insight for insight?" he says sounding more intrigued than confused.

"E-exactly."

I'm glad to see the taunting has come to an end. Now we can discuss things like civilized individuals. Although, nothing about this arrangement seems civilized or humane in any way. But it's an arrangement I have forced myself to become uncomfortably comfortable with. Odd, I know. I happen to be fully aware of that fact, but sadly am able to do very little about it.

"Okay. I don't see why not. But on a condition of course." If a smirk had audio, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how it would sound.

So he seems to have conditions too. This should be rather interesting as I don't have much to offer or do regarding my current state. I guess it's my turn to ask, "W-which is?"

"Stop getting into trouble. You've experienced enough of those punishments."

What the- Boy come again? I don't believe we heard correctly. Repeat-... Jess enough. Although I have to admit that I am thrown off track here with my emotions. Everything feels like it's come to stop. It's the second bit of his statement that has me all muddled up.

"I c-can't make any promises," I respond. It's only the decent thing to do. Besides, I much rather prefer to move on from my flabbergasted state. "but h-how do y-you know-"

"I'm the eyes and ears in this place. I know and see everything. And where there aren't cameras, there are people."

Where there aren't cameras, there are people? What the hell?... Heaven alone knows curiosity kills me. It's better for me just to know things. Especially things of importance. 

"The n-nurses a-and guards?" I decide to question.

"Bingo. Try at least not to get yourself in sticky situations. Do what you're told and return to your room." he demands. His tone shifts, becoming more stern, sending an alarming signal to mind.

"Why a-are you so bo-bothered with the pun-punishments?"

This is something I need to know. For someone who watches a bunch of kidnapped teenage girls all day long, knowing what they're going through and what they have yet to face, he does very little to stop or prevent any of it. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he chooses not to. 

I mean, I should probably be very honest with myself right now. He's part of this, of everything happening to us. It's not to say he's kept in the dark about this human trafficking scheme. We're the victims here, forced to live a life we don't want. Us retaliating and not wanting to cooperate are episodes of events bound to happen. So why does he bother warning me to stay out of trouble? To stay away from the punishments? It makes no sense.

"Because I can't get you out of them."

Ohh...

Wow, I was not expecting that as a response at all. 

Why would he- does he care about me? That's ridiculous. But what if- No, nope, nadda. Not doing it. Not going to over-analyse, not going to over-think... My head is throbbing.

I remember our first conversation like it was yesterday. Not much was exchanged then and even during that little session, there were so many plot holes. So many questions and very few answers. Honestly, with everything that has happened so far, I'm surprised my memory has stayed intact at all. Especially with this coma. I have heard stories of people who come out of comas completely losing their ability to function. Some physically, others psychologically. My eyes widen as awareness springs to mind.

Oh good Lord, please don't let that happen to me. I don't want to be wheel-bounded for the rest of my life.

"And I wanted to- are you okay?" he questions. Ah great, I probably look like some anemic corpse, frightened to death by a wandering spirit. "You look a shade paler."

Called it.

'A shade paler', well he sure knows how to make a girl feel special... Jess, quiet, please. He's being polite about it.

"Y-yeah. I'm f-fine," I respond halfheartedly. 

Dammit, will this stuttering ever end? I feel like a broken vessel. Even I'm not convinced of that statement. Hopefully, it's enough to convince him.

"You're fine?", oh boy, here we go, "If I knew you on a far more personal level, I'll tell you that that's a load of bull. You're not fine, you're worried. Probably stressed out of your mind, but I won't force you to speak to me. You forget you wear your heart on your sleeve. I've watched you enough to know this. You pretend not to care or that things don't faze you, but honestly it kills you inside. And believe me when I say that I know. I know how it feels all too damn well. So no. You're not fine, you're coping," he says all in one go.

My eyes nearly pop from their very sockets at his words. I've never had a guy speak to me in such a manner before. Normally they let it go, even when knowing I'm not okay. But he straight out displays his analysis of both me and the situation. My perplexity doesn't even begin to comprehend just how deeply touched and rattled I am right now.

"And I'm sure that even if you wanted to tell me, you couldn't right now. I noticed you're having difficulty with your speech. Therefore I'll give it a pass. But only for now," he finishes. 

I can't seem to find the words to continue the conversation.

My dry mouth hangs agape, unsure of which motion to settle in. I find myself staring intensely at the lens of that inanimate camera with the taunting blinking red light.

A thousand questions flood to the center point of my mind. Why does he speak to me? Why is he worried about me? What did he mean he knows how it feels? What does he look like? What's his name? How old is he? Although judging from his modulated yet throaty voice, I'd guess between 20 and 29.

"W-why am... A-are you here?" is the only question bold enough to flee my mind after a solid two minutes. I feel the urging need to voice every other question eating away at me. But not being able to trust my own vocabulary or speech ability at this point in time, I refrain from making a fool out of myself.

"I'm gonna go ahead and assume that that question has a deeper meaning behind it." I hastily nod my head, my eyes not daring to shift from the lens. A heavy burdened sigh can be heard before he decides to speak, "It's my dad."

I must not have heard him correctly. Either that or are my ears malfunctioning.

"C-come again?"

There has to be an explanation for what he just said. His dad? I can't imagine any parent wanting their offspring to witness, let alone experience such hell. There's no way his dad placed him in this... this... shit hole. Then again, I should know by now that there are some pretty sick individuals lurking about in the world who couldn't give damn about the next person. Let alone their own child. What a foul reality.

"Last time you thought I was the one who ran this place simply because I'm behind the monitors, but truthfully, it's my dad." he responds and my thought processor does a triple take. 

I saw none of this coming.
 

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A/N:

And that's a merry jolly wrap for chapter 48. I'd love to know what you think about it. Both positive and negative comments are openly welcomed🌷. 

I'd just like to give a massive thank you to everyone that's been supporting me and staying by my side since the very beginning of this book🌷. And to those who have recently discovered my book, welcome fam. Thank you for all your feedback and inspiring comments. It's your keen spirits that kept me going and I am forever grateful🎄🎁.

I love you all so much, it's insane. Thank you once again❤❤❤.

Love
-AmberLee