It looked magical, the lights twinkling their tiny star shapes lighting up either side of the romantically set rope bridge.
The evening expanding its darkness adding to the atmosphere, it was so still, the quiet almost cemetery like, yet if you listened then deep below could be heard the lapping of gentle waves. The smell of honeysuckle flowers fragranced the evening and this could all be a wonderful setting for a loving couples honeymoon.
She felt the sharp jab of cold metal against her ribs and winced, the menacing prompt was enough to propel her forward.
Don't cry, she repeated in her mind, don't make a sound
The tall quiet man behind her made sure his steps directly shadowed hers. The romantic scene was surreal, unsettling, how could she be walking to her death through such beautiful views of paradise.
She remembered being taken, her mind had tried wiping it out, blanking everything, it didn't work, every time she was kicked awake the memory of that day would flood over her.
The sudden crashing of her previous world smashed apart as two men had bundled her into a van on the way to school, as so many hundreds of times before she wished she had called for Rosie that day, wished she hadn't walked on her own.
They reached the end of the bridge and she hesitated, who wants to take that final step towards death? A moment was all that was afforded her, the man once again jabbed the gun roughly in her ribs and she stumbled forward unable to contain the cry of pain.
No one would be able to see her because the place was surrounded by tall dark trees, no one would hear her because the miles seperating her and any help having been accented by the longest rope bridge in history all giving a decidely remote impression to the small island they were now on.
The short walk lead along a stone covered path and out to a clearing within the trees and a beautiful home was in front of them.
Luxurious, large, expensive, all these words fit well when faced with the opulent home. A large garden area was filled with exotic blooms to one side, to the other lay a small lake; looking closer it was obviously man made, though it had been lovingly constructed and devotion to detail was impressive, it looked as near natural as was possible and she was struck by how beautiful and serene it all looked.
Well at least she was going to die in a beautiful setting she thought to herself.
Her gallows humour was not enough to quell the fear turning her stomach sick. The tall man opened the door to the opulent home and they entered a hallway that took the breath away.
The floor covered in marble, pristeen and cool, the walls covered in works of art, the grand staircase centered and sweeping around in two large wings made of carved mahogany and featuring details gilded with real gold. The sheer size of the 'hallway' was enough to hold a grand ball and she could imagine women in expensive silk gowns, men in tuxedos, fancy food and champagne, she could only guess at how rich whoever owned this place was.
They stood, the tall quiet man and her ,for what felt like a long time, the silence was oppressive and accentuated the waiting.
The gun was kept in her ribs throughout, she became aware she was shaking, her jacket though functional in keeping her warm was no good at stopping her shaking with fright. Her ordeal so far having included rape and torture constant deprivation, she was amazed that shaking was all she suffered. Her mind was working over time though with scrutinising every part of this vast gold encrusted art work adorned space and if at any moment she could see any kind of escape , her thoughts interupted by the opening of very large double doors, again ornately and richly decorated, they glided smoothly open.
The man walking towards her was disappointingly average looking, she wasn't sure what she expected to see, do evil filthy rich tycoons have a look to them? Perhaps it was all the hugely, almost embarassingly, expensive decor that had lead to her expecting perhaps a man looking like an overly tanned, silk pyjama clad, millionaire, but the man that approached them across the vast checkerboard floor looked like someone's dad, or even grandad.
He was no more than say five foot four and had a slight paunch, his face looked kind , his grey hair receding a little, his clothes also looked like he had a cosy afternoon watching movies planned.
He smiled at her and stretched his hand toward her.
Her face blank she stood mute and she had no idea what he was doing, his light laugh wasn't mocking; the kindness was evident in his voice.
He said "My name is Mark I am pleased to meet you, it is customary to shake hands when meeting" his soft smile matching the caring look in his eyes.
She limply shook his hand.
It was warm and soft, the touch of his hands on hers, and his grip was light and he shook her hand in what could only be described as a gentle way.
"So whats your name?" he asked.
"Lily"
Her voice sounded so small.
She was thrown off guard; if this was to be her murderer then she felt no fear, surely she should be afraid?
With a sharp nod of his head he dismissed the tall quiet man and placing an arm gently round her as he guided her to the room behind the large double doors.
Her heart was thumping, her gut wrenched and doubled, she felt so sick and now she knew the tears would come hot and heavy, she felt them build in pressure behind her eyelids desperately waiting to be released her mind, stuck in what felt like an eternal loop of, she did not want to die.
She hoped that he wouldn't torture her before killing her.
She couldn't take any more pain.
Perhaps if he was as kind as he looked he would do it quickly, no pain, maybe just shoot her.
She couldn't believe she was praying to be shot.
He motioned to the chair for her to sit down and she tentatively sat on the very edge of a huge red velvet covered, gold detailed winged armchair.
A fire was burning, welcoming her to relax, the fireplace itself was both taller than she was and it was wide enough it took logs the size of half a tree it seemed, this fireplace should be the star in some disney christmas movie, it was flanked by marble columns, it was topped with a mirror worthy of being in Alice through the looking glass, it was the epitomy of over the top luxuriant fireplaces. Rich hangings and tapestries covered the walls and graced the large windows, everywhere in this place was fit for a king.
"Would you like something to eat?" he enquired.
She stared at him incredulous.
"or drink maybe?"
Again her mouth could not function, her brain was trying desperately to fit into place this man, this palace occupied by what appears to be the richest man in the world, and the idea she had been kept in a cage, not fed, beaten constantly and had endured what they like to term 'experiments' on her, she had suffered beyond all imagination, she had thought she would surely die so many times and many more she had prayed she could die.
Yet she was sat in a plush velvet armchair opposite a roaring fire, with a friendly man asking if she would like a drink, it was too much to comprehend.
"I'm sorry" he said.
"I know you have been through a lot"
He paused, he seemed aware it was all to difficult for her to take in.
"I know it will take some time for you to adjust, we will feed you and arrange for your return"
She continued to stare at him.
She refused to believe this was real, or if it was then it was surely a ploy and when she fell for it he would turn horrible and the pain would begin again, and she didnt want to care anymore, she just wanted it all to stop.
The door quietly opened and a tray was soon placed next to her, a fine silver tray and on it were many small dishes, all filled with fruit and candies, so many types on offer her eyes couldnt really comprehend that it was real. She waited for the illusion to fade.
A glass of water was offered to her and she automatically took a sip.
Her hand also worked on automatic as it took one of the small biscuits offered to her, and her mouth chewed mechanically.
"You will be ok" he said softly.
He paused, he took a deep breath.
"You will be ok now, at the moment all I can tell you is you will be returned to your parents, you will go back to your home and hopefully you will be able to carry on with your life, though no doubt therapy will be featured heavily. Please eat some more" through his softly spoken words he offered another little dish of delicious looking food and she continued to operate in an automatic style as she nibbled at the edge of wafer that probably cost more than a weeks rent to buy.
Her eyes stung with tiredness, her body felt drained, she fought hard to remain conscious.
It didnt work.
thank you for reading
written as a flash fiction, timed conscious flow writing of one hour, for the 365 days of writing found here https://steemit.com/fiction/@mydivathings/day-242-365-days-of-writing-challenge