time the thunder falls silent, a lock of my hair
rests on the couch next to me. I look up from my hands and find the darkness lifting
outside the window. The lightning flickers once or twice more before the storm
is over.
In shock, I stand up and wobble
to the window. The world feels too quiet now, but I can finally take a deep
breath. I think I even smile. Touching the glass, I stare out at the woods and
think they’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Turning around, I spot Quill
and realize the trees are nowhere as beautiful as this man. Through the rest of
the storm, he refused to speak to me. Rather than showing pity at my begging
and tears, he viewed my hysterics as a sign of treachery.
Now with the world quiet, Quill
pretends I don’t exist at all. He walks outside and checks the cabin. When I
follow him, he says nothing. He doesn’t even glance in my direction when I
stumble over bones left behind by one of the woods’ predators.
Long after the storm passes, my
mind swims with voices and memories. I’m unable to think straight. Not about
Quill or the woods beckoning me to walk through them. They promise to soothe my
angst. I don’t fall for their lie, knowing only Quill can comfort me.
Demanding his attention, I step
in front of him. His face reveals no emotion. He simply steps to his side to
move past me, but I again block him. He stares at me with expressionless eyes,
and something snaps inside me.
I want him to acknowledge me.
No, more than recognition, I want him to care for me. I need him to fall apart
when I die like I will if I ever lose him.
Pressing my hand on his chest,
I shove him. Quill is a wall studded to the ground. He doesn’t budge at all.
Frustrated by his lack of reaction, I press my second hand to his chest and
shove with all of my strength.
“What are you attempting to
do?” he asks, unfazed by my aggression.
“I’m trying to push you to the
ground, so I can ravage you.”
Quill takes my right wrist and
raises my arm. “You have no strength in your upper body. You seemed stronger
the day you locked me in the room. Are you ill?”
“Don’t you have any reaction to
my desire to shove you down and rip off your clothes?”
“I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”
“Sex, Quill,” I mock. “Now that
you’re free from your robot factory, don’t you desire sexual relief?”
Sighing full of annoyance, he
shakes his head. “Sex is a distraction.”
“From what? There’s nothing to
do here!”
“I meant from my training.”
“You’re no longer a robot in
the old world where you took orders. You said the rules are different here. Why
can’t you be different too?”
“I don’t want to be touched.”
“You’re letting me touch you
now,” I say, poking him with both hands.
“Your behavior is curious to
me.”
I roll my eyes and walk to the
kitchen. “I think the others went insane from boredom. The only food is the
stale bread in the fridge. There’s nothing to read or watch. There’s nothing to
do period. There’s only you and me, but you won’t talk or fuck or do anything.”
“Do you feel you’re losing your
sanity?”
I flip him off and sit on the
couch. “I want to run away. I think I might take my chances out there. Death is
preferable to dying of boredom.”
“Is torture preferable?” he
asks, walking to the front door.
“Why are you so rational?
Weren’t you ever bored here?”
“I was trained to deal with
long periods of silence.”
Glancing back at him, I imagine
his old life. Silence, waiting for his assignment, no desire, no choices.
“In all seriousness, are you a
robot?”
“I don’t think you’re serious.
I think you’re insulting me in your Odessa-way.”
“How can you not want more?”
“I just don’t.”
I stand up and walk to him.
Quill doesn’t look at me. His gaze is on the woods where nothing moves.
“It’s too quiet,” I say to ease
the tension in my gut.
“Yes.”
“Is someone
rests on the couch next to me. I look up from my hands and find the darkness lifting
outside the window. The lightning flickers once or twice more before the storm
is over.
In shock, I stand up and wobble
to the window. The world feels too quiet now, but I can finally take a deep
breath. I think I even smile. Touching the glass, I stare out at the woods and
think they’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Turning around, I spot Quill
and realize the trees are nowhere as beautiful as this man. Through the rest of
the storm, he refused to speak to me. Rather than showing pity at my begging
and tears, he viewed my hysterics as a sign of treachery.
Now with the world quiet, Quill
pretends I don’t exist at all. He walks outside and checks the cabin. When I
follow him, he says nothing. He doesn’t even glance in my direction when I
stumble over bones left behind by one of the woods’ predators.
Long after the storm passes, my
mind swims with voices and memories. I’m unable to think straight. Not about
Quill or the woods beckoning me to walk through them. They promise to soothe my
angst. I don’t fall for their lie, knowing only Quill can comfort me.
Demanding his attention, I step
in front of him. His face reveals no emotion. He simply steps to his side to
move past me, but I again block him. He stares at me with expressionless eyes,
and something snaps inside me.
I want him to acknowledge me.
No, more than recognition, I want him to care for me. I need him to fall apart
when I die like I will if I ever lose him.
Pressing my hand on his chest,
I shove him. Quill is a wall studded to the ground. He doesn’t budge at all.
Frustrated by his lack of reaction, I press my second hand to his chest and
shove with all of my strength.
“What are you attempting to
do?” he asks, unfazed by my aggression.
“I’m trying to push you to the
ground, so I can ravage you.”
Quill takes my right wrist and
raises my arm. “You have no strength in your upper body. You seemed stronger
the day you locked me in the room. Are you ill?”
“Don’t you have any reaction to
my desire to shove you down and rip off your clothes?”
“I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”
“Sex, Quill,” I mock. “Now that
you’re free from your robot factory, don’t you desire sexual relief?”
Sighing full of annoyance, he
shakes his head. “Sex is a distraction.”
“From what? There’s nothing to
do here!”
“I meant from my training.”
“You’re no longer a robot in
the old world where you took orders. You said the rules are different here. Why
can’t you be different too?”
“I don’t want to be touched.”
“You’re letting me touch you
now,” I say, poking him with both hands.
“Your behavior is curious to
me.”
I roll my eyes and walk to the
kitchen. “I think the others went insane from boredom. The only food is the
stale bread in the fridge. There’s nothing to read or watch. There’s nothing to
do period. There’s only you and me, but you won’t talk or fuck or do anything.”
“Do you feel you’re losing your
sanity?”
I flip him off and sit on the
couch. “I want to run away. I think I might take my chances out there. Death is
preferable to dying of boredom.”
“Is torture preferable?” he
asks, walking to the front door.
“Why are you so rational?
Weren’t you ever bored here?”
“I was trained to deal with
long periods of silence.”
Glancing back at him, I imagine
his old life. Silence, waiting for his assignment, no desire, no choices.
“In all seriousness, are you a
robot?”
“I don’t think you’re serious.
I think you’re insulting me in your Odessa-way.”
“How can you not want more?”
“I just don’t.”
I stand up and walk to him.
Quill doesn’t look at me. His gaze is on the woods where nothing moves.
“It’s too quiet,” I say to ease
the tension in my gut.
“Yes.”
“Is someone
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